This is Who I Am (Masters of the Shadowlands #7)(57)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

She simply stood, staring at him.

He put a low snap in his voice. “Move, girl.”

* * * *

Wow, she really felt like a secretary. As she crossed the club and walked down the theme-room hallway, a few members grinned, recognizing the stereotypical look. Her black skirt hugged her butt more closely than she liked, but the white silk blouse she might have bought for herself. Without a bra, her nipples made dark points under the thin material. But the black reading glasses—without lenses—were great.

The hall contained people observing scenes through the large windows. The medical room was across from the office room, and she glanced in, then winced. A Domme was inserting needles in a straight line down one side of her submissive’s muscular back. The man flinched with each puncture, but from his expression, he was in a happy place.

Linda felt envious. Not of the piercing—heavens, no. But the subspace. She felt as if centuries had passed since she’d played with Sam.

As she opened the door, she saw him and felt that inexplicable bounce of her heart. He waited beside a fancy oak desk in a room fashioned to look like an office. A tall filing cabinet stood against one wall. A chair sat in front of the desk. A couch and coffee table were near the far wall.

After donning the suit coat she’d fetched, he gave her an approving smile. “Miss Madison, I’m Sam Davies, the CEO of Pain International.” He held his hand out.

“Ah.” Right. Get with the program. She shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Take a seat. We’ll get right to the interview.”

Interview? She blinked, then shrugged and took the hardwood chair in front of the massive oak desk. At least she wouldn’t have to pretend to take notes in shorthand.

After seating himself behind the desk, Sam opened a red folder and actually donned his reading glasses to peruse the contents. He was so, so sexy with glasses.

He nodded to himself as he read. When he frowned at another paper, her hands turned clammy as if she were really applying for a job. Finally he looked up and pinned her with a keen gaze over the top of his glasses. “A widow. Children in college. How much trouble do they give you?”

Huh. He really meant to keep this interviewlike. “Not much. They’re quite good children, aside from being at that rebellious age.”

His gaze chilled. “How nice to meet an honest and polite applicant.” The compliment was at definite odds with his annoyed look. Why? He knocked the pencil holder off the desk. “Oops. Pick those up while I read the rest of this report.”

Pushing her glasses up, she obediently knelt on the gleaming hardwood floor, righted the holder, and put the first pencil in.

He sighed. “So goddamned well behaved. Use your teeth then.”

She stared at him and caught his direct look. Realized why. He’d told her to be rude. Honest, but rude. If she were “quiet or well-behaved,” he’d choose things she didn’t like. Well, he was sure on target with picking up pencils with her teeth. Ew.

Must be rude. “You’re pretty clumsy, Davies. You should pick them up yourself.” She felt…odd…saying that. “Don’t be impertinent, honey. It’s important that you’re always polite.” Her mama’s voice distorted and slid into the Overseer’s. “Sluts don’t speak.”

“Miss Madison, are you applying for a job or taking a nap down there?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry.” As she reached for a pencil, his frown stopped her. Rude. Be rude. Not knowing what to say, she picked up a pencil and threw it onto the desk. Everything inside her cringed at the action. “There’s one.”

She caught the glint of approval and threw two more. “Almost done, Mr. Dumb Davies.”

His lips quirked. “Enough of that. Come here.”

She rose, took a step forward, and realized she was doing it again. Blind passive obedience. “No.” She dropped into her chair. “Get on with the interview before I get bored.”

His eyebrows went up. “Bored?” He flipped a page. “Small-town girl. Your father was pastor of a church? Pretty straitlaced, I bet.”

“That’s right.” Why is it so hard to be rude? “What’s it to you?” She sprawled out, her legs extended.

“You’re just racking up punishments, Miss Madison. Behave yourself.”

Before she could stop, she sat upright, knees together, hands in lap. “My daughter is a good girl. Did you see how well she sat and listened to the sermon?”

“Nicely obedient.” Sam sounded disgusted. “Bend over and let me see your ass.”

Her face flushed. “That isn’t fair. I…” Obeyed you. I was good. He didn’t want her to be good. To be polite. Her brain felt as if it were playing a song with dissonant chords.

“Now. Not next week.”

She rose and turned and—dummy. She spun back around. “What kind of a CEO are you? That’s just disgusting.”

He snorted. “Gabi should give you some pointers on how to be insulting.” He rose and walked around the desk. “Come here.”

The look in his eyes had her backing toward the door. “Uh-uh.”

Taking a step forward, he caught her shirt by the front and yanked her to the desk, then bent her facedown over it. Still holding her shirt, keeping her bent over, Sam lifted her skirt and ran his hand over her bottom. “I like the way you just give in. An excellent robot.”

Robot? “Let me go, you bastard!” She was learning. She started to struggle.

“Nope.” His hand slapped her bottom with a brief sting; then he gave her three more that transformed into lovely sharp pleasure. “Those were for the sassy talk, and so is this.” When he ran his finger between her folds, she squirmed uncontrollably as need sizzled through her. He made a hum of approval at her wetness. His big finger circled her clit in a burst of sensation as he teased her.

She was just letting him. She tried to push herself up, but he held her mercilessly in place. And his touch grew more insistent. Her clit swelled as he pressed harder.

When he finally let her up, she was flushed and panting and so, so turned on. With a final hard slap of her bare bottom, he nudged her toward her chair. “I have some more questions, Miss Madison.”

She sat in the chair, knees together, back straight. At his raised eyebrows, she flushed. She really was an idiot. “So far your questions haven’t shown any intelligence on your part.”

He nodded as if in appreciation of the crappy insult. “Church daughter. Raised to be a good girl. Bet you never question if you should obey the person giving orders. You just do what they say, don’t you, little girl?”

“I—” She did. “You arrogant bastard, what would you know about being respectable?”

“Bet your husband was real respectable. Conservative. Wanted you to be the same. Answer me, Miss Madison.”

“He—” Her mouth snapped shut, and she glared. “You can take this job and feed it to your ugly pigs.” She rose.

His grin came and went so fast she almost didn’t see it. “No, the interview isn’t over. Do you even know what you’re interviewing for?”

“I… No.”

He walked around the desk and grabbed her by the nape of her neck. “Neither do I. Let’s see if you have any skills I’d enjoy.”

After pushing her into the knee space under the desk, he took his seat, lowered the chair, then moved it forward until his legs bracketed her. With sure hands, he opened his leathers. His cock rose, and she gaped at him. “You want me to suck your—”

“Yep.” He slid her glasses off and tossed them on the desk. “A nice blowjob…and quietly, please.”

Be rude. Obey, but be rude. He wanted rude, then fine. “Are you sure I can find it? I might get it confused with one of those pencils on the floor.”

He choked, even as he pushed a button on the front of the desk.

Obey. Resting a forearm on his knee to steady herself, she licked around the top of his cock before taking it into her mouth. At the taste and feel of his hard erection, desire set up a steady pulse between her legs. The velvety skin was stretched tight, the veins bulging. Mmmm. Want more. She lifted her head. “See, tiny dick. Maybe—”

He shoved her head down, forcing her to take it all, effectively muffling her. And he wasn’t little at all. She almost gagged as he went deep, but when his hand fisted in her hair and pulled her head up and down, the feeling of being controlled made her insides go smooshie.

“Suck harder.”

She did, then defiantly scraped him—gently—with her teeth. Under her forearms, his thigh muscles tightened. Heavens, she’d missed being with him. She inhaled his musky, wonderful scent.

He pulled her hair just enough to give her goose bumps.

Relaxing her jaw, she took him deeper, enjoying the rumble of satisfaction he gave. She could climax just listening to him.

The door creaked open, letting in the noise of people in the hallway. A man said, “You rang, boss?”

Linda froze and tried to pull back farther under the desk. Sam’s hand in her hair kept her head bobbing, the wet sounds far, far too loud.

“Yes, would you tell the next candidate that I’m detained,” Sam said. “I won’t get to her for another hour.”