| Author: | S M Partlowe | ISBN: | 9781310493140 |
| Publisher: | S M Partlowe | Publication: | June 19, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | S M Partlowe |
| ISBN: | 9781310493140 |
| Publisher: | S M Partlowe |
| Publication: | June 19, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
For years Clay Phillips has been working nights and weekends to get his start-up off the ground, but when long overdue success begins to turn heads, it attracts the attentions of heavy hitters that Clay is not prepared to contend with. Such a one is Jackson Rivers, handsome CEO of the Rosemont Group, who has come to meet with Clay personally about the prospect of a buyout. What begins as a bit of simple maneuver and professional strong-arming soon becomes much more as Jackson turns to more elaborate means of bringing Clay around to his point of view. Threats, physical dominance, and sexual manipulation Clay never knew he was susceptible to will all come into play before Jackson has gotten his way and left Clay gasping on his office desk and hungry for more.
Excerpt:
He drew another folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket and laid it in front of me. "First, you sign this contract, finalizing the sale for the amount I've offered you. It will make you a very rich man."
I managed to shake my head. "This is all happening too fast."
"Too fast?" he repeated. "I thought I had been very generous with my time. I have given you months to withdraw from my markets."
"I can't," I stammered.
He nodded, as though deciding something for himself. "Do you know what it is like when a little startup like yours wanders in and starts trying to underbid companies like mine? It is like a child that insists on sitting at the grown-ups' table. The child refuses to acknowledge objective reality. It only understands one thing."
He pushed the stacks of paper which remained in the center of my desk off to the side. One of them wobbled, tipped, and cascaded to the floor, but he did not notice. "The only thing they understand, Clay, is a firm hand."
He was standing over me, now, and I had shrunk back into the chair, feeling very small and physically intimidated.
"I can make you regret your stubbornness in any number of ways. I can underbid every contract you receive, headhunt every name you hire, and grind your company into the dirt until every last investor you have is serving you papers. Is that what you want?"
I stared up at him, mute.
"Stand up," he said.
I stayed frozen in place.
"Stand up," he repeated. "You call yourself the owner of this company. You can't even stand and look me in the eye in your own office? You have to cower in your chair?"
Shakily, I complied.
No sooner was I standing than he had put his hand to the small of my back, pushing me over and pinning me down upon my desk.
"I'm going to do something much less permanent than all of that," he said. There was not so much as a single note of strain in his voice as he held me completely helpless against the smooth oak of my desk. "Because I'm beginning to like you, because in a certain way I can admire stubbornness, I'm going to teach you very simply and here, in private, just how out of your depth you are."
I tried to say something, but his hand against my back was compressing my chest against the desk too forcefully to draw full breath. Instead, all that emerged was a whimper.
For years Clay Phillips has been working nights and weekends to get his start-up off the ground, but when long overdue success begins to turn heads, it attracts the attentions of heavy hitters that Clay is not prepared to contend with. Such a one is Jackson Rivers, handsome CEO of the Rosemont Group, who has come to meet with Clay personally about the prospect of a buyout. What begins as a bit of simple maneuver and professional strong-arming soon becomes much more as Jackson turns to more elaborate means of bringing Clay around to his point of view. Threats, physical dominance, and sexual manipulation Clay never knew he was susceptible to will all come into play before Jackson has gotten his way and left Clay gasping on his office desk and hungry for more.
Excerpt:
He drew another folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket and laid it in front of me. "First, you sign this contract, finalizing the sale for the amount I've offered you. It will make you a very rich man."
I managed to shake my head. "This is all happening too fast."
"Too fast?" he repeated. "I thought I had been very generous with my time. I have given you months to withdraw from my markets."
"I can't," I stammered.
He nodded, as though deciding something for himself. "Do you know what it is like when a little startup like yours wanders in and starts trying to underbid companies like mine? It is like a child that insists on sitting at the grown-ups' table. The child refuses to acknowledge objective reality. It only understands one thing."
He pushed the stacks of paper which remained in the center of my desk off to the side. One of them wobbled, tipped, and cascaded to the floor, but he did not notice. "The only thing they understand, Clay, is a firm hand."
He was standing over me, now, and I had shrunk back into the chair, feeling very small and physically intimidated.
"I can make you regret your stubbornness in any number of ways. I can underbid every contract you receive, headhunt every name you hire, and grind your company into the dirt until every last investor you have is serving you papers. Is that what you want?"
I stared up at him, mute.
"Stand up," he said.
I stayed frozen in place.
"Stand up," he repeated. "You call yourself the owner of this company. You can't even stand and look me in the eye in your own office? You have to cower in your chair?"
Shakily, I complied.
No sooner was I standing than he had put his hand to the small of my back, pushing me over and pinning me down upon my desk.
"I'm going to do something much less permanent than all of that," he said. There was not so much as a single note of strain in his voice as he held me completely helpless against the smooth oak of my desk. "Because I'm beginning to like you, because in a certain way I can admire stubbornness, I'm going to teach you very simply and here, in private, just how out of your depth you are."
I tried to say something, but his hand against my back was compressing my chest against the desk too forcefully to draw full breath. Instead, all that emerged was a whimper.
