by Dark Angel
What a dick move, trying to intimidate me by acting like he holds all the cards. He’s dead ass wrong. I want to jump up and tell him to get the fuck out of my office, but I know it wouldn’t go over well with the studio heads, and as much as I may not like it, they’re the ones who make the final calls at the end of the day. Well, them and the FCC, apparently.
Finally, the other lawyer, Adam Wolff Jr., speaks up. “On behalf of your employers,” he says snidely, “we’re here to tell you that they’re not happy about the possibility of a fine.”
Like I fucking am? Who do they think is paying the fucking money if we do get fined? I decided to take on that liability when Toby and I made the choice to show it all for the cameras. I want to tell them to get the fuck out of my office, but instead I bare my teeth in some semblance of a smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” He starts to speak up again, but I cut him off before he can. “I mean I’ll pay the fine. If it comes to that, which it won’t.”
“Mr. Kent,” the lint plucker says, apparently deciding he'll speak to me after all, “we’re more concerned about the bad publicity. The network just doesn’t need that right now. The network has requested you tone it down.”
Seriously? They think my show will bring bad publicity?
Toby guffaws at that, then seeing the lawyers’ expressions, tries to cover it up as a cough. Yeah. Really. People actually do that shit.
He gives the suits an incredulous look. “You really think that’s bad publicity? You’re crazy if you do. And you can go straight to the network heads and tell them I said it. This is exactly the kind of publicity that gets better ratings. And I know that’s all they care about. As soon as people heard about that episode, it went viral. More views on YouTube than any other shows in network history. The amount of people tuning in live the next night was twice what it was any other night for the entire run of the show.”
I nod. “Toby’s right. And I’ll remind you that my show is the top rated talk show on TV. Not just for this network. Across all networks.”
“Yes, but that won’t matter when—”
“Let me ask you this? What’s more important? Pleasing a few prudes who probably just need a good hard fucking, or giving our viewers what they tune in for night after night? The viewers are the ones who really matter. If the network knows what’s good for them, they won’t try to censor the show. Because the viewers won’t stand for being treated like children who are being told that ACL is too naughty for them.”
The lawyers exchange a glance, then Adam leans forward. “Look, I get that your viewers watch your show for a reason. But don’t you think it might have gone a little too far this time? You could put the network in jeopardy. Like my colleague said, you need to consider toning things down. At least until this blows over.”
I shake my head. At first I was almost amused, but now I’m starting to get pissed. “They’re missing the point. The whole purpose of my show is to liberate people from the sexual restraints society has put on them. You think censoring the show is going to further that purpose? Fuck no. It goes against everything I represent. How am I supposed to help people break free of the shame and discomfort society places on sex when the very network the show is on is okay with censorship?”
How does no one get this? Well, except Toby. My man has my back.
“What Jake is trying to say,” he says calmly, “is that what you’re proposing will have the opposite effect from what you want. You risk alienating the very viewers our show appeals to.”
I jump back in, unable to point out the obvious. “Besides, don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourselves? We haven’t even been fined yet. It’s very possible we won’t be. Layla happens to be reasonable and forward thinking. She might end up seeing the value of the show and decide not to fine us after all.”
“It’s a possibility,” Adam concedes, “but her boss Lori is one of the higher-ups with the FCC. She has a reputation for being relentless. It may not even matter what Layla concludes if Lori really wants to push the issue.”
I just stare at him. Do they really think I’m going to go along with their suggestion? That I’m going to be a total hypocrite and defy everything I stand for by allowing censorship?
“I’m just telling you,” Adam continues,” that if this goes to court and we have to deal with Lori, I’m billing extra.”
I don’t even blink. Who the fuck do they think they’re talking to? I’m Jacob fucking Kent, the fucking Cunning Linguist for fuck’s sake. Whatever they can throw at me, all I have to say is bring it.
Because I know what I stand for, and there’s no way in hell I’m backing down.
Layla
Walking into the reception area of Jake’s office, I pass two official looking dudes who don’t look very happy. They grimace at me as they walk by, not even saying hello.
I knock on the door that’s still open and walk in. Jake and Toby are sitting at the desk, and they don’t look too pleased either. Something’s up for sure.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my eyebrows drawing together.
“Hey,” Jake says, the rough expression on his face melting into a welcoming smile the minute he looks over and sees me. He’s out of his chair and standing in front of me the next instant, taking my hands and pulling me inside the office before shutting the door behind me. “Haven’t seen you in a few days,” he adds teasingly. “Thought you might have already made up your mind about me.”
Yeah. I sure have. My mind is one hundred percent certain that a few days are way too long without him. But there’s obviously something going on, and I want to know what it is.
“What’s the deal? Why do those guys—and both of you, for that matter—look like you were just told you can’t have sex for the next six weeks?”
Jake laughs. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess our problems are nothing, isn’t that right, Toby?”
Toby snorts, and amused grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. This is next to nothing in that context.”
“Seriously, though. What’s up?”
Jake sighs. “Those were the corporate lawyers coming to talk to us about the FCC fine. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m fully prepared to fight the FCC if I have to. Though I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
I shake my head, surprised. “I haven’t made my decision yet.”
I don’t say it, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t want to get into a court battle any more than Jake does. I especially don’t want to have to fight this out with him. What I really want is to just get him back in my bed.
He smiles at me. “Then why don’t we get some work done and see if that helps you along?”
We sit down at his desk, much like we did the other day, and Jake and Toby start going through more letters and emails.
“Are there even more today than there were before?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah.” Jake nods. “They’ve been pouring in after the increased popularity of the show. It’s pretty awesome that our reach is spreading. Just think how many people out there are realizing what they’ve been missing out on. All these women are desperate to have the sex they deserve. With us reaching more people, we could change society’s entire worldview when it comes to sex.”
I just stare at him for a minute. That’s a pretty lofty goal. It’s also kind of inspiring. Now that I’ve seen just how many people out there aren’t reaching their best potential, I kind of want to get behind Jake’s mission. I’ve taken my awesome sex life for granted it seems.
“Do you mind if I help you guys?” I ask, gesturing toward the pile of letters.
Jake grins. “That would be awesome. You know what you’re looking for?”
I nod. I actually do. Now that I’m seeing the value of A Cunning Linguist, I’m looking at these applicants in a whole new light. I start reading through the letters, and soon I’m totally consumed in the process. It’s kind of exciting thinking about helping all these women g
et the sex they crave and deserve.
Jake and Toby do much as they did the last time, throwing out comments about the applicants and sorting them into categories. At one point Toby starts laughing.
“What?” I ask, looking up.
“It’s just funny how all these women like to overanalyze everything. Totally dissect the situation. If they’d just learn to go with the flow, half the world’s problems would disappear.”
My eyebrows fly up. “Oh my god, Toby. Just when I thought you two might actually be some of the most enlightened men I’ve ever met, you go and make some sweeping generalization like that.”
“Are you saying you disagree?” Jake chimes in, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms with an amused smirk on his lips.
“Um, yeah! Hello. That’s like saying that men can’t be rational because they only think with their dicks.”
They both just smile at me.
“What?”
“Well, it’s true.” Jake laughs.
Rolling my eyes, I reach over and make like I’m about to flick him in the head, but he catches my wrist and wiggles his eyebrows at me.
I giggle. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But still. Women don’t all overanalyze everything. Some of us know how to ‘go with the flow,’ as Toby put it.” I look at him pointedly, not able to fight the flirty grin. “You should know that, Mr. Kent.”
“All too well.” He takes my wrist and flips my hand over, tracing circles on the inside of my arm. It sends a shiver through my body and my pussy starts to pulse and ache with need. It’s just that fast with him. I don’t know if any other man has ever made me so horny this easily. When he lifts my hand to his lips and draws a finger into his mouth, I let out a little moan, and then almost immediately clamp my other hand over my mouth, my eyes flying to Toby.
Jake smirks when he releases me. “See? What did I say? Overanalyzing.”
“Wait, what?” I’m trying to follow his train of thought, but I’m also hyper aware of my aching nipples and dripping pussy.
“You can’t just let go and enjoy yourself because you were thinking about Toby being here. Overthinking is a real problem with some women when it comes to sex. I see it every day.”
“But I don’t...I mean…”
Jake smiles wider, and part of me wants to slug him. A bigger part of me wants to climb in his lap and see where this might go.
“You do. You just don’t realize it. You’re uninhibited enough to let yourself enjoy sex—fucking hot sex, by the way. But part of you still thinks too much.”
I want to argue with him. But he’s kind of right. If Toby weren’t here right now, I’d probably already be naked.
As if he can read my mind, Toby pushes back from the desk and gives me a wink. “On that note, I think I’m going to take a little break and leave you two to take care of the rest of this business.”
If by business, he means sex, I can totally get down with that. I watch Toby leave the room, thinking about what both of them just said.
When it’s just Jake and me, he gives me a knowing look. “What are you thinking about?”
This time I do reach over and slug him, and he just fucking laughs. I’ve been schooled by a fucking love doctor, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
Layla
We continue working for the rest of the afternoon and the time seems to fly by as we make our way through the huge stack of letters. It’s amazing how comfortable I feel around Jake. It’s like he just gets me. We talk a little about everything.
He tells me about why he switched from being an art major and moved into psychology. I tell him all about what it’s like working for a government agency.
“You don’t strike me as the type to be a rule-following paper-pusher,” he muses. “Or someone who’s into telling people what is and isn’t okay for them.”
“Oh really? You think you’ve got my number already?”
Shrugging, Jake sets down the letter he’s currently reviewing. “Yeah. You do what you want. You make your own life, play by your own rules. Am I wrong?”
“No,” I say slowly, thinking about it. “But how do you know that?”
“You’re a strong woman. You’ve made a career for yourself. You live on your own terms. You aren’t reliant on a man to make you complete, even though you’re more than willing to make your needs known.”
“Here we go again. Are you going to tell me all about my childhood next, doctor?” I tease.
He laughs. “Not quite. I’m more into finding out how to give you a mind-blowing orgasm than psychoanalyzing you.”
“I think that’s a cause I can fully get behind.” Then, because I can’t keep my curiosity at bay any longer, I ask, “Is it hard to have a relationship in your line of work?”
Which is really my way of secretly prying into his dating history.
“Are you asking me if there’s been someone special in my life?”
Well, so much for being sneaky.
“Honestly,” he says, “yes, but not in the way you mean. My job keeps me busy. I work all the time. I’ve put my career first forever. So no serious relationships, no. But I’m not a monk or anything.”
“Obviously.” I roll my eyes. “You probably hold the world record for hours spent between a woman’s legs.”
Jake laughs. “What about you?”
“Pretty much the same. I’ve spent so much time building my career that I just don’t have time to put into anything serious. I’ve dated plenty of guys, but never for more than a few weeks. It hasn’t been a priority.”
We look at each other for several moments. Finally, I ask the burning question. “Have you ever thought that you might be missing out? I mean, maybe you like being a player and having different women to keep things interesting…” But maybe he doesn’t. “Do you ever wish you had time for more?”
Jake just shrugs, his eyes fixed on mine. I don’t say anything else, wondering if I’ve said too much. If my questions make it obvious that it’s exactly how I feel. I don’t regret putting my career first, but it does get lonely sometimes. It would be nice to have a warm body to come home to at night. One that was good for more than just helping me get off. Though that would have to be a given as well. Obviously.
I clear my throat and look at the stack of letters. We’ve barely made a dent. Probably because we spent more time talking than working.
I can’t get the idea of a warm body in my bed out of my head now that I’ve had the thought, and I glance back up at Jake, my lips curving up slyly. “You hungry?”
He takes the bait, his eyes glittering with naughty intentions. “You offering?”
“Well, I do know how much you enjoy something tasty to eat…”
“I do have quite the voracious appetite.”
“I think I might just be able to help you out with that,” I say. “If I remember correctly, I have some whipped cream at home. I’ve been saving it for a special dessert.”
“Sounds delicious.” Jake looks like he could devour me this second.
“Want to come over to my place for dinner? If you’re an extra good boy, maybe afterward you can have some of that dessert.”
Jake
“This was such a good idea,” Layla says as she chops some peppers.
“Glad you had it,” I tease, pouring two glasses of wine from the bottle she set out.
Her lips curve up, and I can't take my eyes from them. Those lips belong on my cock, but I’m trying my best to restrain myself. I really don’t want Layla thinking I’m only interested in her for the sex. Though she’s just as aware as I am that things are so damn hot between us, it’s only a matter of time before we combust.
“It’s been forever since I’ve really cooked a good meal. And even longer since I’ve done it with someone.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” I say, coming around the island in her kitchen and leaning against it as I offer her a glass of wine. She sets the knife down and turns to face me, clinking her glass ag
ainst mine. “But hasn’t it only been a few days?”
“You know what I mean.” She laughs and swats at my chest, but I grab her wrist and pull, throwing her off balance so that she stumbles against my chest. A chuckle rumbles up my throat, and the way she bites her lip as she looks up at me, her eyes full of naughty intention. “Keep that up and we might not make it to dinner.”
“That’s the idea.”
Rolling her eyes playfully, she takes a sip of her wine, and then turns back to the cutting board. “Grab that pan, will you?” She nods her head toward the rack full of pots and pans hanging above the island.
Reaching over her head, I make sure my entire body presses against her from behind. Layla sucks in a breath when she feels my thick cock press against her ass. It’s been so fucking hard since the minute we got here and I stepped foot inside her apartment.
The knife clatters to the floor, and she turns her head to look at me, her eyes wide with mock-innocence. She lifts her fingers to her mouth. “Oops. Look at me being so clumsy.”
When she bends to retrieve it, her ass pushing back against my cock, I groan, setting the pan aside and gripping her hips.
“Fuck, Layla. I could fuck you so hard right now,” I bite out through gritted teeth. She’s certainly not making it easy on me to show her that I don’t only think about fucking her. Just ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent it’s still there in the back of my head, but I’m able to function somewhat normally.
Pulling away with a giggle, she grabs the pan and puts it on the stove, then turns on the burner to sauté the veggies we’re putting in the pasta. I figure I should probably attend to my job in the kitchen. Layla’s been doing most of the work because I’ve been too busy watching her and thinking about all the places we could fuck in her apartment. The few days since our date have been a few too many.
I grab a pot and fill it with water, then set it on the stove next to Layla’s sauce pan. My job is to boil the water. What can I say? Cooking isn’t exactly my favorite pastime. After I wipe the counter with a towel, I tuck it into my back pocket and settle in behind Layla again, brushing her hair aside to give me better access to her neck.
