Free Soft Skills by Cleo Peitsche Page A

caught lying to them, Jonathan hadn’t shut her out.
    He’d never acted like that. She wouldn’t have thought him capable of it. If she’d been wrong about him, she could be wrong about everything.
    If she lost the job, she’d lose her lovers. Her closest friends. Cunningham, Jonathan and Nolan… she belonged to them. She belonged with them, too. The unconventional relationship just worked.
    They had lent her out to friends, blindfolded her and forced her to submit to five other strangers. They recognized her need to be fucked by numerous men, and they indulged every one of her late-night fantasies. In return, she forced them to admit that their own feelings were more than casual.
    Whatever she had inadvertently done to compromise all that, she didn’t know. But she would do anything to fix it. Anything.
    Elle suddenly stopped walking. Was this possibly about meeting her mother? Cunningham had given her until the end of the month to set something up, but she still had a few days before that deadline.  
    He couldn’t possibly know she hadn’t even asked yet. Could he?
    Her heart heavy, she continued on her path. She was on the verge of tears by the time she stood in front of Cunningham’s closed door. Hands shaking, she applied a fresh layer of lip gloss, then fluffed her hair. She couldn’t put it off a second longer—making Cunningham wait wasn’t a smart strategy on a good day. And today was no longer a good day.
    She knocked, a lump in her throat.
    “Enter.”
    Her palms were so wet that she couldn’t turn the handle until she wiped her hand on her skirt.
    Cunningham sat behind his desk, fiddling with a puzzle box. He wore a dark suit and a somber tie. He didn’t look at Elle as his large fingers pushed and prodded the box.
    “Come in and have a seat,” he said, his low voice rumbling.
    Cunningham was frightening. Elle suspected she’d always be a little scared of him. He was massive in a way that businessmen rarely were. He worked hard and played harder—his idea of a relaxing weekend was to fly to a foreign country, strap on a parachute-glider hybrid, and jump off a building. He raced cars, he climbed mountains. He silenced other alpha men with a mere tilt of his head. He fucked her with authority, knowing from the first time he laid eyes on her that he would have her, that she would yield to him and that she would beg for the privilege.
    She couldn’t think about that now. She ignored the signs that her body was aching for his reassurance—either with his palm on her bare ass or his cock in her throat—that he wasn’t going to end this.
    “The client is happy,” Elle said tentatively as she slid into a chair. “Very happy.” She winced; she sounded like a little girl.
    Cunningham nodded, his brow furrowed. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. He was so upset that he couldn’t look at her?
    “What did I do?”
    He twisted the box and the bottom popped open. Nothing fell out. “My cousin’s nephew brought this during a science museum class trip,” Cunningham said in a tone as casual as if he were making idle conversation while waiting to board a plane.
    Elle knew better than to repeat her question; Cunningham would interpret it as her exerting control. Instead, she said, “I’m going to email Mama tonight about meeting you. I swear.”  
    She uncrossed her legs because her entire body was trembling so lightly that she needed to plant both feet on the floor. She stared down at her lap. She was wearing sheer, black thigh-highs, held up with a simple but alluring garter belt, just the way Cunningham liked. Her shoes were sexy black stilettos, surprisingly comfortable.  
    The tight skirt she wore was a dark gray, and it was paired with a pink, slinky shell with a knot between her breasts. Nolan had chosen and purchased the outfit, so she knew it was approved.
    She crossed her arms. The ends of her auburn hair were still perfectly curled. She knew her makeup was perfect because she’d