Jennifer's Surrender Read Online Free

was
grinning ear to ear. I wanted to jump up and down and run around the conference
table to give Bill a hug. I wasn’t crazy. It wasn’t just all the smut I’d been
reading! I was right!

 
      “Jen, our Creative Director, will walk
you through the concept.” Bill said as if offering up a tiny mouse to a hungry
python. I knew the product and our pitch well enough, but all I knew about the
client, Stephen London, aside from what I had read online, was that he and Bill
went way back. There was something about him that was so intimidating, so
overwhelmingly powerful that I felt like everyone in the room must be able to
hear my heart beating, it was pounding so hard. It didn’t help that he was stunningly
handsome. He had to be around Bill’s age, so it was a combination of looks,
charisma, raw masculinity and confidence. Basically, it was the whole package.
    Even before I
opened my mouth, I knew that what I was about to say would make me blush. The
way he looked at me, just his look, I felt deep down in my belly. And now, here
I was, about to explain the concept behind the campaign. It was just a look,
but I guess that’s all it took for me to feel like I was the tiny mouse for him to toy with and eventually consume.
    I cleared my
throat and started to speak, much meeker than usual, but I couldn’t help it. “Our
overall concept is, ‘Surrender’” I paused, I knew I was bright red, but his
expression was implacable. I glanced over to Bill and his look was one of
support, encouragement, which helped. I straightened my shoulders and
continued, trying to sound more secure and forceful. “In today’s busy world,
many women feel the constant pressure of work, family, home and friends. They
have no time to themselves, and they have to take care of everyone and
everything in their lives. The notion of giving in, surrendering is foreign,
even laughable to many,” I paused and looked down to take a breath. From the
minute I started speaking his eyes did not leave mine and I felt as though
somehow just his glance was literally taking my breath away.
    Before I
started speaking again, I took a deep breath and consciously or subconsciously,
I don’t know which, I licked my lips. I’d like to think it was because my mouth
was dry, but I had lip gloss on and my lips were just fine. I don’t know what
made me do it. I’ve never been overtly sexual before with a client. But he
liked it as a small, almost imperceptible smile crept across his face. It
vanished almost as soon as it had appeared, but I knew I saw it. He approved.
He liked what he saw. And that tiny assent lifted my spirits, and I continued,
bolstered now by his validation.
      “But if the promise to your guests that
all they have to do is surrender, and your hotel will take care of the rest, that
it will tend to their needs, keep them safe and warm, pamper them and offer
them all of the pleasures that daily life does not, then the notion of
surrender is no longer seen as weak, but rather it becomes their key to
happiness.” I paused, “for at least a night.” I smiled and paused.
    There was
silence. This was the part where he either loved the idea or hated it.
      “Jennifer, is that right?” he asked,
confirming my name, though somehow I very much doubted this man ever forgot a
name, much less anything else. I don’t know where my reply came from. I’m not
from the South and I’ve never called a client ‘sir’ before, so maybe it was
from all the books I had been reading, but from somewhere I replied what would
be the first of many times,
      “Yes, Sir.” And I briefly looked down as
I said it. Again, this wasn’t a performance, I wasn’t purposely acting out a
role. There was something about his presence that compelled me. I don’t know if
it was that moment, or some other, that he knew he had me. But he clearly liked
the way I addressed him as he smiled slowly, never taking his eyes off of mine.
      “Jennifer, let me ask you a