Executive Engagement

Holy fuck. No wonder he calls himself the Cunning Linguist. I wouldn’t be surprised if this guy could make a girl come with nothing but his words.

“That is the general consensus,” I toss back as he hands me the steaming mug of coffee. Thank God I have something to do with my hands now. At the rate things are going, I’m likely to reach down and pull his cock out.

“You say this as if there’s a question.”

Laughing, I shake my head, hoping to clear out some of the lust-induced haze that’s making me want to behave like a fucking nympho. “All I’m saying is that I adhere to the principle of innocent until proven guilty.”

Jake’s eyelids drop to half-mast in what has to be the cockiest look I’ve seen on him yet. “I plead guilty, baby. Every single time. It’s way more fun that way.”

Someone clears their throat from across the office, and that’s when I realize for the first time that Toby’s already here.

“Have you started already?” I ask, looking between the two men.

“Waiting for you,” Jake says, his hand resuming the position on my back as he leads me toward one of the two chairs facing his desk. Toby’s taken up residence behind the desk, and Jake pulls the other chair closer to the desk, and closer to mine, ready to get to work.

I clear my throat and pull a tablet from my handbag. “Sorry to keep you waiting then, Mr. Kent.” Jake gives me a look. “I mean Jacob.”

He narrows his eyes. “My friends call me Jake, remember?”

“Sure thing, Jacob.”

Toby busts out laughing. “I like you, Layla.”

Grinning, I sit back in my chair. “Why don’t you two just pretend I’m not here, and I’ll try to get a completely objective idea of how this goes?”

“Objective?” Toby scoffs. “If you say so.”

“Okay,” Jake rubs his hands together, “let’s dive in.”

“Nice one,” I laugh.

Jake catches my eye and winks, and my blood starts to simmer as I imagine him diving in—right in between my legs.

Luckily, the two men get to work and I’m soon able to push most of my dirty thoughts aside.

Toby’s clicking through email after email on the computer while Jake tears open envelopes and scans the contents one by one. Yeah. Letters. Women are sending actual physical letters to Jake. After a while it’s almost as if they forget I’m here. Both men sum up each applicant—that’s how I’m thinking of the women who want to be on Jake’s show—as they work their way through them, categorizing them into yes, no, and maybes.

“So how are you determining who goes into which category?” I can’t stop myself from asking after thirty minutes of this. I’m not quite sure what I expected, but it’s not what I’m seeing. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand?” Jake says simply. “We’re finding who I can help the most.”

“Yeah, but…” I don’t know how to say what I’m thinking, and I fumble through it. “There hasn’t been a single picture. None of these women have talked about what they like or don’t like when it comes to sex. I guess I just don’t get what you’re looking for.”

If I had to guess based on what I’ve gathered, I’d say the women ending up in the yes pile are ones who seem smart, funny, interesting. Women I might like to hang out with. And then there are the ones who fit the bill of what Jake said—ones who really need help.

Because some of these applicants? Holy shit. I can’t even imagine being so miserable with my sex life. I love sex. I see it as a vital and vibrant part of my life—something to appreciate and revel in. But some of these women look at it completely differently for a variety of reasons. It’s something they’re embarrassed about, or insecure. Some even sound ashamed. Then there are those that desperately hope there’s more to sex than what they’ve known because their experiences can hardly be called great.

I thought most people in the world are happy with their sex lives, but it looks like I was dead wrong. Are there really that many people this uptight about sex? I mean, Lori is, obviously, but I thought she was the exception rather than the rule. If what I’m seeing and hearing while Toby and Jake go through these letters and emails is par for the course, well, maybe a show like this really can help.

Fucking hell, Layla. What am I supposed to do with that? I tuck it away as something to think about later and listen as Toby and Jake tell me more about their process.

“Have you ever watched the show, Layla?” Toby asks.

I shake my head. “Not really. Just the one last week. But I think everyone’s seen that one by now.”

He grins. “Fucking awesome, wasn’t it?”

“Or awesome fucking?”