A shiver stole over the pretty boy’s body and I got the feeling he was going to be my biggest challenge yet.
“I want you on your knees.”
With a masculine grace that made my dick hard, they both lowered themselves to their knees. All bronzed skin and defined muscle. It was obvious they took care of themselves.
“Do not sit on your heels,” I said. “I want you up on your knees, hands behind your back, heads down, shoulders square. I want to see how hard your dicks are. Do not move until I tell you to.”
“Yes, Zeke,” they said in unison.
My eyes shifted to the door that separated our cabin from Trent’s. I was tempted to find that fucker and beat him within an inch of his life.
What the fuck was he thinking putting me here with these two? He had to know they couldn’t handle me. No one could handle me. That had been proven day in and day out. Never had I found a single submissive—masochist or otherwise—who could deal with my sadistic tendencies. I had the ability to make grown men cry like babies. Why would Trent think either of them was any different, much less both of them?
“Pretty boy? Do you like dogs?”
“Yes, Zeke,” he said dutifully, his eyes never lifting, every line of his body perfectly straight.
“And you, cowboy?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
For fuck’s sake.
What the hell was I supposed to do with them now?
ELEVEN
Clarissa
I HAD NO IDEA WHAT to expect when we stepped out of the elevator on the thirty-third floor of the lavish building set in the heart of downtown Chicago.
I was informed this was the headquarters of Chatter PR Global and it was every bit as extravagant as I’d expected. Lots of marble and stone, detailed finishes along with chrome accents. The portion of the building that I’d seen was modern and expensive. Quite impressive.
When Trent happened to toss the name out there, I’d thought he was kidding. Chatter PR Global just happened to be one of the top three public relations firms in the world and they had an impeccable reputation. The only reason I knew this was through the gossip mill at Devotion. Ashleigh McDermott happened to be an author who was represented by the high-class firm. When they’d agreed to take her on, it had apparently been a big deal. Most authors who were represented by them evidently did very well for themselves.
“Welcome,” the dark-haired receptionist greeted as he pushed to his feet and moved around the desk. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Ramsey. How was your flight?”
“Rather uneventful,” Trent said with a grin. “Which, as you know, is a good thing. How are you, Dale?” His tone reflected his comfort with the man. It was obvious they knew each other well.
“I’m fantastic, as always.” The two men shook hands.
“How’s Jordan?”
Dale grinned widely. “My Knight is doing very well, thank you.” He turned to Troy. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Shelton.”
Troy shook his hand. “Likewise. And please call me Troy.”
“Dale, I’d like you to meet Clarissa Tinsley,” Trent prompted, stepping back and sliding his hand to my lower back as he eased me forward. “Clarissa, meet Dale Cooper. He’s Chatter’s receptionist.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dale said with a mischievous grin.
“Nice to meet you as well,” I noted, shaking his hand quickly.
Dale let his gaze stray behind me, likely curious as to who the rest of Trent’s entourage was. A second later, when he acknowledged them all by name, I realized no introductions were necessary.
Once the small talk was out of the way, Dale motioned toward a long hallway. “We’ve recently undergone a redesign, but I’m happy to say the construction is completely finished. You should not encounter any stray workers.”
“Is Langston in his office?” Trent asked.
“He is. He said to send you back as soon as you arrived.”
“Thanks,” Trent said, motioning for me and Troy to precede him down the wide hallway.
“I’ll show the boys to Justin’s office,” Zeke said from somewhere behind me. Evidently, they were here for a job interview as well.
We passed what appeared to be a large conference room before we walked through a set of opaque glass doors, where the space opened up. Three offices outlined the space with a cozy lounge area in front of them. I could hear several voices coming from below. My attention turned to the stairs briefly as Zeke led the way for the others. Deductive reasoning said Justin’s office was down there.
Before we made it three feet past the first office, a bubbly woman with long hair, light blue eyes, and skyscraper heels stepped out.
“Master Ramsey!” she squealed. “You’re here.” The woman’s eyes darted over to me and Troy. “And you brought company.” She quickly reached for my hand before I could offer. “You must be Clarissa. I’m Luci. I work for Master and Sir.”
