I try to take slower, deeper breaths. I can do this. I’m a professional.
A professional what, exactly? asks an inner voice.
Yeah. I tell the inner voice to shut the fuck up. Get through this hour, then I’m free.
“Forgive me,” Bryce says, “I’ve been completely neglecting to introduce my associate, Miss Calliope Cruise. She’ll be helping me present the next in our proposed product line.”
Bryce holds out a hand to me, gesturing me forward. I’m glad to finally have some indication of my role here, but the butterflies in my stomach start swarming as I step forward. Butterflies is probably the wrong word. They bring to mind a nice image. I should say moths. Yes. It’s definitely creepy fuzzy closet moths swarming my innards that I feel as I shake the first man’s hand.
He’s old enough to be my grandfather and then some. There are wrinkles to his wrinkles. I’d have thought his skin would be dry and crackly, but no, his palms are sweaty. “Happy to meet you, little lady.” His filmy blue eyes never leave the vicinity of my chest.
“Richard,” Bryce claps him on the back, “don’t monopolize my lovely associate’s time. I’d like her to meet everyone before we get started. Besides, as I told you earlier,” a look passes between the two men, “there’ll be plenty of time in the question-and-answer portion later.”
“Ah,” Richard gives my hand one last sweaty squeeze before stepping away.
After that, it’s a parade of men. I can tell by the thread count of their suits that they are all very wealthy. None of them are younger than forty. Several have heavy foreign accents, one who sounds English and a couple from Asia.
“It’s good to meet you, Miss Cruise,” says the last man, a Carl something-or-other from Atlantic Dynamics. His gaze never once trays below my chin. “There’s been a lot of chatter about Gentry Tech’s new drone line and I’m excited to hear your presentation.”
“Thank you,” I respond. He seems friendly and genuine. I can’t help the paranoia that’s been clawing at me ever since Bryce maneuvered me into this meeting, but as I see everyone settling into their chairs at what looks like a very ordinary conference meeting, the winged creatures in my stomach start to settle.
This was all just another one of Bryce’s mind games. He was setting this all up like it was going to be something sleazy or bizarre. But it’s all above board. I want to laugh at myself for building it up in my head. Well, that, and I want to punch Bryce in the nuts, the bastard, screwing with me like that.
I turn away from Carl feeling much lighter and go to click on the projection screen. I get my laptop out of my bag and glance at Bryce. He gives me a nod and opens the meeting.
“Gentlemen, I’m excited to welcome you to the future of unmanned aerial systems. What I’m going to show you today is a design that’s light years ahead of the current technology.”
Bryce goes on to detail the idea behind his design and then he nods at me again while simultaneously pressing a remote to dim the lights.
I switch on the projector and begin to go through my presentation. Since I’ve done it several times at this point, my voice comes out strong and clear. I don’t flub a single point.
There are questions throughout the presentation. To my surprise, Bryce lets me field most of them, only jumping in when it’s a question that’s too technical in nature for me to answer.
I finish the slide that describes the software that will drive the drones—the part that so upset Jackson as incomplete. The men in the room merely look satisfied and, dare I say, impressed. Either they accept Bryce’s promises at face value or don’t know any better? But these are men in the industry, surely they know the right questions to ask. Maybe it’s just because Bryce’s reputation precedes him and they trust he can do what he says he will.
Bryce brings the lights in the room back to full power. There’s quiet chatter in the room as a few of the men talk amongst themselves. A couple are still jotting notes on tablets. The physical notepads all sit untouched.
Fine with me. I glance down at my own laptop. I can’t believe that I got through that with no hiccups. A flare of relief rushes through me. My time at Gentry Tech is all but officially done. I can’t help the smile that sneaks across my face. I even managed to do a good job in my last task here. I actually feel proud of myself.
“And now let’s settle in for some refreshments since the first half of our business has been concluded.”
Or not. The excitement I just felt fizzles, but only slightly. Okay, I can get through refreshment hour. No biggie.
Bryce nods at me without ever looking my way. Way to remind me of the indentured servant that I am. I raise my chin. I only have to make it through this last meeting. I can handle anything for an hour.
“Get our esteemed guests whatever they would like to drink.”
“Of course.” I try to keep the tightness out of my voice.
I stand up and move toward the back of the room and—
My ass is pinched.
What the—?
I look back at Bryce in astonishment. Did he just pinch my—?
Bryce reaches out and unabashedly gropes my other ass cheek.
“What are you—?” The words barely come out in a gasp, though.
Because this is not happening. This is a public place. These are respectable businessmen. I just delivered a presentation to them as an equal—
“Unbutton your shirt, Miss Cruise.” Bryce’s voice is as conversational as it’s been all throughout the meeting.
I stare at him, balking.
His affable eyes harden the slightest bit. He leans in and whispers so that just I can hear, “Do you want out of the contract or not? You only get out if you fulfill the obligations of this meeting.”
Bastard. My heart sinks and I huff out in frustration and humiliation, Still, I hesitate only a second before my hands go to the top button of my blouse. This is more of what I was expecting all along, isn’t it? The consequences I knew were coming for quitting?
From the beginning in my office, I decided I could be strong enough to get through this and still walk away with my head held high.
I will not let Bryce Gentry get the best of me.
So the bastard wants to put me on display. Fine. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before. I glare at Bryce the entire time I snap the buttons from their holes. I’m not going to simper or be cowed by him, but it just seems to amuse him more. Fucking cunt bastard.
Bryce holds out an arm toward me while looking at the rest of the table. “I’ve told you what an asset Miss Cruise is to the company. What I neglected to say is what lovely assets she has.”
His lame joke gets a hearty chuckle from the room. I don’t look around the table, but I’m stunned. Being in a room with these professionals made me feel safe earlier. Bryce is really going to do this in front of all of them? In what world is this acceptable?
“But what about her ass?” This from Richard, the old man. I don’t fight the shudder of disgust that wracks my body. He’s staring hungrily at my chest.
“Oh, we’ll get to that, don’t worry,” Bryce says, looking me right in the eye. There’s some kind of dark promise there.
I have the impulse to run from the room, right now. I tamp it down just in time.
I’ll owe over three-quarters of a million dollars if I don’t put up with this show and tell, or else I can’t work where I want for five years. I swallow. Although, I’m quickly getting the idea that it’s not just going to be a show and tell, but a show and touch. Christ.
But I can put up with anything for an hour… can’t I?
I don’t have another second to think about it, though, before Bryce has pulled the shirt off my back. The next second he unclasps my bra and jerks it from my frame.
There’s a noise of masculine reaction throughout the room as my breasts are exposed. Grunts and low groans.
“Up,” Bryce demands.
I don’t understand at first, but then he grasps my hips and pushes m
e toward the table. “Up on your knees. Like a dog.”
Humiliation colors my face. What the hell? No. No way did I agree to this.
One of the men in the corner with red hair and a slight gut licks his lips and then reaches out, grabbing my breast and squeezing. I yank back even as his eyes flare at the contact.
Bryce smacks at my thigh again, like he’s chastising me. I turn on him, furious.
That’s it. I’m out.
“I’m not doing this,” I hiss at him. My eyes search out the door behind him. It’s maybe ten feet away. I knew Bryce was disgusting, but this is pushing it way too far. He said I could have an out if I wanted it and I’m taking it.
But Bryce moves far quicker than I expect and his voice is in my ear. “Remember how much you have to lose. All I’m asking is to let them touch you a little. That’s all they’ll do. I promise. Half an hour and you’re free.”
I scoff and pull away, hating the feel of his breath on my ear. It feels wrong for him to be so close after what Jackson and I did last weekend.
Shame floods me in spite of my determination to be strong. Jackson. I was with Jackson and here I am, naked, letting other men touch me. We never talked about being exclusive and I don’t even know if I’m willing to try it with him, but still… This is just so wrong on so many levels. My stomach churns and I want to be sick all over the table. All over the men who are getting off on my humiliation.
“Yeah, right,” I whisper through gritted teeth, backing up several inches away from him. “These men are expecting a lot more than just touching.”
Bryce puts a hand around my waist to hold me still. I stiffen.
Just as I’m calculating how close it is to the nearest coffee mug and whether or not I can grab it to smash it over Bryce’s head, he says. “You’re right.”
He’s close, still way too close as he whispers in my ear. “They’re expecting a show. I give them a little live porno of my super-hot personal assistant blowing me, they’ll get their rocks off and I make the deals I need.”
I struggle against his hold. “I’m not giving you a blow job.”
He slides his hand more around my waist and presses up against me, nuzzling his face in my hair. “It was always going to come to this, Calliope. You knew that from day one.”
My heartbeat picks up until I feel like a small animal caught in a trap. “Fulfill your end of the bargain, and you’re free. Walk out of this room and you owe me eight-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars if you try to get a job in the tech industry. Otherwise you’ll be stuck waitressing for the next five years. You think you’re really going to be able to win back your little boy by working minimum-wage jobs?”
I wrench away from him. How the hell does he even know about my court troubles?
But he continues, his voice cajoling. “This is such a little thing.” He strokes my shoulder and I want to scream and then kick him until his balls are purple. “I’m willing to bargain. Just fifteen minutes and then it’s over. You never have to see me again.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as his words reverberate in my head.
Fifteen minutes.
Damn it. I could be done with Bryce forever. If I don’t, he gets to determine how I live the next five YEARS of my life.
No. Fuck no.
He’s toxic and evil and I’ll never be the person I want to be if I’m stuck under his sociopathic thumb.
Goddamn him. He’s the devil. If I do this, I’m walking into a deal with him with my eyes wide open. My chest squeezes in pain. I swore I was going to be different. That I was going to stop repeating old mistakes.
But damn it, this is not hearts and flowers land. My body is once again the bargaining tool on the table here. Fucking literally, if Bryce has his way.
There are no knights in shining armor, I’ve known that for a while. Jackson wanted to step into the role for a little while and maybe I wanted to let him, but this will kill it. I’m not sure he’ll even want me to work for him after this.
And that’s fine. I try to harden myself from the inside out.
Jackson was always a dream never meant to be mine. He’s a good man and I’m— I’m—
You’re the girl Dad’s boss likes to diddle in the dark. You’re the girl who climbs up on tables in front of a room of men like a whore.
This is who you are.
Who you always were.
It’s not like Bryce is asking for anything I haven’t done before. So many, many times before. Powerful men wanting my body. My mouth.
Open up, Little Barbie. You want your Dad to lose his job? Or I could give him that promotion he wants so badly. It’s all up to you. I’m only asking for this one little thing.
“Fine,” I hiss.
“Good girl.” Bryce’s voice goes back to all business. “Now. Up on the table on all fours.”
No! Everything screams against it.
I swallow back the bile threatening to choke me. Without opening my eyes, I crawl onto the table. I fucking do it and my humiliation is complete.
Hoots and whistles come from every direction. Being humiliated is part of the point, right? It’s what these sorts of men get off on. Power.
Bryce slaps me on the back of the thigh like one might a horse to position me closer to one corner of the table. Without a bra, my breasts swing free like low-hanging fruit with each movement. I keep my eyes squeezed shut.
Fifteen minutes.
Just fifteen minutes and then you can leave and never look back.
Never ever look back.
I feel movement beside me as Bryce stands up and addresses the table. “Our naughty girl was thinking about running away. What does a naughty girl get?”
Bryce grabs my skirt and with several rough jerks, has it yanked up around my waist. His hand follows, smoothing up the crack of my ass where my thong disappears.
“Tell us, whore, how much you want it.”
My jaw clenches, but Bryce grabs my ass and squeezes it hard.
I squeeze my eyes shut even harder and duck my head. But no, fuck that. I will not cower. You will survive this, Callie Cruise. In fifteen minutes, I’ll walk away from this building with my future in my own motherfucking hands.
“I want it,” I say, hating the words as they come from my mouth.
Just think of that sidewalk. I’m already there. I’m already walking away. Look at that blue sky. That blue, blue sky.
“What was that?” Bryce asks. I can imagine the asshole putting a hand up to his ear like a fucking clown does at a circus. I don’t open my eyes though as I repeat louder, “I want it.”
“And what do you want, whore?”
My eyes do pop open at this. This fucking son of a bitch. What the fuck does he want me to say? It’s not like he gave me a script for this.
He’s grinning mercilessly at me. “Are you hungry for my cock?”
My teeth grind together so hard I feel the stirrings of a headache. “Yes.”
“Ah ah ah,” he chides, waving a finger in the air. “I want to hear you say it. Are you hungry for my cock?”
I bite down on my cheek so hard I taste blood. I close my eyes again and try to remember why only moments ago this seemed like the best course of action.
Get through this and then I’m free. You can put up with anything in the world for just fifteen short minutes, Calliope Marie Cruise. Then it’s blue, blue sky. Blue motherfucking sky.
I choke out the phrase Bryce wants in a stilted, monotone voice. “I’m hungry for your cock.”
“That’s right,” Bryce croons, “you nasty fucking cum bucket. All you can think about is choking on my monster cock.”
If I try hard enough, I can just pretend I’m not here, right? There are not nine pairs of eyes on my body and I am not splayed out like a Christmas ham on the table.
“Richard, would you like to do the honors of initiating play?”
My head whips up at that. The fuck?
I see Richard moving way faster than a man of his age should aro
und the table. He’s rubbing his hands together. There’s a huge grin on his face and his eyes are glued to my ass. The front of his pants jut out obscenely.
My head swings back to Bryce. “I’m only blowing you,” I whisper through gritted teeth. “That’s the only way I do this.”
I might be a cheap piece of ass but I am not a goddamned whore. No matter what Bryce fucking Gentry might think.
Bryce laughs and grabs my chin in between his fingers. For most people, this would be a sweet gesture, but Bryce puts enough strength behind it so that he’s forcing my jaw to make my lips open in an O. “So eager, are we?”
“Only you,” I growl through his grip on my jaw.
He nods, sobering for just a moment. “Only me.”
I breathe out in relief until the old man’s nasty damp hand grabs my ass.
“But the others get to touch,” Bryce finishes, shoving his thumb in my mouth. He shoves it in so far I cough. He just looks amused before pulling it out and stepping back.
The old man grabs and slaps my ass like I’m some kind of mare. Unlike Jackson’s expert spanking in the limo, Richard doesn’t seem to know what the hell he’s doing. His hits are too hard and land in the same place over and over. Just thinking of this dirty old man and Jackson in the same thought makes a tide of shame swarm me.
“Look at how she’s jiggling, she likes it,” Richard pants after the eighth slap.
All right, fucker—
But Bryce must see I’m about to turn and lose it on the old bastard because Bryce grabs my wrists like he’s constraining me and chuckles at Richard. “Okay, Rich, time to give everyone else a go.”
Richard grunts in dissatisfaction, but from how hard he’s breathing, it’s obvious he couldn’t keep it up for much longer anyway. He lands one last hard smack anyway and I yelp in protest. This time when Bryce holds me back, it’s not all for show.
He leans over and whispers in my ear, “Act like you’re resisting me now, they love it.”
“You can’t handle a real man putting you in your place,” Bryce says louder. Now we’re making fucking theater out of it? These rich, twisted fucks. I can’t believe I’m going along with this.
Cut So Deep: Break So Soft Duet Page 26