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The muscles in my back clenched, pulling me upright, ready for battle.
I looked to my husband. He watched me—studied me. Waiting for me to react. His gaze holding a challenge to try.
I left behind the Olivia who was always in control—the woman who always had the answer and dominated every task she set her mind to. In her place was Kent’s wife. No. Alexander’s wife. The woman who fell to her husband’s feet and gave him all the power.
“But I need this job,” I pleaded, falling into the role.
“I understand that,” Kent responded, on the verge of gloating. “But this job doesn’t need you.”
“Please, Alexander. I can take on more tasks. Please.”
He sucked in a deep breath as if inhaling my begging and tasting it.
Cane leaned toward Kent, talking quietly but loud enough for me to hear. “We did discuss alternatives, Alexander.” His blond hair stood out against the other two men’s dark hair, but his eyes gleamed with the blackest sin.
“What alternatives? I have computer experience and can stay late. Just let me try.”
“I’m not sure, Miss Witt,” Kent hedged.
“You’d have to earn the position, and the interview process is rigorous,” Cane explained.
“I’m willing to put in the work.”
“Fine,” Kent conceded. “We’ll give you one chance.”
“Thank you, Alexander,” I beamed. “When should I plan for the interview?”
“Right now.”
“Oh. Umm, okay,” I said, more aware than ever that we were in a restaurant full of guests behind me. “What do you need from me?”
“We need to see what you’re capable of,” he explained.
“Okay,” I answered slowly, trying to keep up. Would he take me to one of the rooms? Would the other men perform while Kent and I watched? The options were endless. I balanced on the edge of a precipice, unsure of which way I’d fall.
I stood up, preparing to leave with them to the next location. Except no one else joined me. Instead, Kent scooted his chair back, creating a gap between him and the table’s edge. He patted the dark wood and eyed me expectantly.
I looked from man to man for clues about what to do but remained frozen.
“Hop on up, Miss Witt,” Cane explained.
“I—I don’t underst—”
“You don’t need to. Now…” Kent’s eyes hardened with his command. “Hop. Up.”
Swallowing, I stumbled the few steps to his side of the table. I carefully scooted as far as I could until the table hit the backs of my knees. The more I moved back, the closer Kent leaned forward until I’d have to climb over his lap to get off.
“Good girl,” Ryan praised.
I attempted to look over my shoulder to see how many people watched us. Surely, not everyone could be performers. There were too many. Did they watch me? Did they know what was going on? How could they when I didn’t even know what was happening?
Before I could assess anything, fingertips grazed along my calves. I jerked around, pulling my legs back and squeezing them tight. Ryan and Cane had shifted their chairs to be beside Kent, three sets of eyes watching me.
“What exactly is the position?” My voice shook with nerves.
“Make us happy, of course. We are the owners.”
“Oh. Okay. Um, how do I do that?”
Kent’s smile was slow and dark. “Lots of ways.”
“But first, we need to see that you’re the right person for the job,” Ryan explained, issuing his own challenging stare.
“What do you need to see?”
“All of you,” Cane said just as Kent’s fingers returned to my calves.
This time when I pulled back, I couldn’t. Hands shackled around my ankles and held me in place as they worked their way up.
“Listen, Miss Witt. If you want this job, be a good girl and do as we tell you.”
My heart raced, sending waves of fire and ice through my veins. Excitement bled into nerves. Kent and I had never had anyone with us before, and I didn’t know how far he planned on going now. Not that it mattered because I trusted him and knew I could stop at any moment. But I didn’t want to.
I liked the tinge of fear that came with playing the role. I liked the dominance pouring off these men that pulled me down beneath them. I liked the adrenaline and anticipation.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Good. Now, we’re just going to take a look,” Kent said.
The hum of the restaurant ceased to exist, and all I heard was my own panting breaths. I closed my eyes, focusing on the strong hands shifting to press between my knees and pull them apart despite my resistance.
“Look at those white panties,” Cane muttered.
“I think we need to see what’s under them,” Ryan suggested.
“Definitely,” Kent agreed. His hands traveled further under my skirt to my hips, where he hooked my underwear. “Lift up for me, Miss Witt.”
I squirmed, trying to find a way to raise my hips, when Ryan stood, his large body towering over me. Without saying a word, he reached under my arms and lifted me enough for Kent to drag my underwear down my legs and off. Before releasing me, he leaned close and sucked in a deep breath against my hair, smiling as he sat back down.