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Ben didn’t bother changing out of his dark colored suit and indigo dress shirt. His morning meetings had run longer than anticipated, and he didn’t want to arrive much later than Jason would. He needed to be there to make sure his cousin didn’t do anything stupid with Jake and Derek.

Ben’s jet landed at Weaverville Airport, where his rental was waiting for him. After putting his bags in the Jeep rental, he drove himself to the cabin. With its rugged landscape of heavy forestry and the Klamath Mountains, the area was beautiful. Unlike most years, the terrain was verdant with flora as a result of the heavier-than-usual rain in the spring months. Ben had put down the top of the Jeep to bask in the early summer sun, glad to be in dry and temperate Northern California instead of muggy and hot Beijing, where his parents lived.

At the cabin, a stocky man named Vince opened the door. At 6’2”, Ben stood taller than most of his friends, save for the ones playing in the CBA, but Vince was easily a head taller than Ben. He didn’t know why, but the first thought Ben had on meeting Vince was whether or not he could take the guy out. He was confident he could. Men with Vince’s build tended to be slower and less agile.

Jake appeared in the foyer. “Benji, glad you could make it.”

The hairs on Ben’s neck curled. Had Jake just called him Benji?

“Only my mom and sisters ever call me Benji.”

“Oh, hey, no problem, brah.”

“Where’s Jason?”

“He and Derek are coming up together, and their driver got lost. You like bourbon? I was about to open up a bottle of Kentucky straight. It’s uncut and unfiltered.”

Vince offered to take Ben’s bags up to his room, the last one on the left upstairs, so Ben followed Jake into the great room with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the lake. Jake walked over to the bar, but Ben stopped at the threshold.

At the left end of the room before the fireplace knelt two women. One was a blond in a tight pink faux leather dress. The other was completely naked. Both of them looked disheveled.

“What the fuck?” Ben let drop.

“I see you found my acquisitions,” Jake drawled as he opened the bottle of whiskey.

Ben met the eyes of the blond. She glanced down as if not wanting to be caught looking. The other woman stared at him with what seemed like defiance and suspicion. His gaze did a quick sweep of her figure, and his groin tightened of its own accord. She had nice B-cup breasts with dark chocolate areolas, a smooth stomach that led to swollen hips and a cute patch of curls between shapely thighs.

Her left cheek appeared a little discolored and swollen. Her hair was partially and unevenly straightened, and her mascara had spread below her eyes as if she had slept without taking her makeup off.

Jake handed him a glass of bourbon. “You missed out, man. There were prime pickings last night.”

Ben glanced at the women again. For women who wanted this shit, they didn’t look too happy at the moment.

“Do you have the portfolios I requested?” Ben asked Jake.

“Yeah, but you really want to talk business right now? You just got here.”

“Now’s as good a time as any. Better. We don’t have to bore Jason and Derek.”

“Fine, fine.”

Jake went to sit at a table before the window. He gestured to the manila folders. “They’re all right here. You’ll want this guy, though. Jamaal Dixon. He’s playing in the EuroLeague right now.”

Ben set his bourbon down on the table and leafed through the portfolios. When transacting business, he preferred not to drink. It was hard enough keeping his mind on business with two women, one of them naked, kneeling just yards from where he sat.

“They just going to kneel there the whole time?” he asked, trying to keep his gaze off the naked one—especially her tits and pelvis.

“That’s what slaves do,” Jake replied as he poured himself more bourbon. “Whatever I tell them to do.”

“Why is one of them naked?”

“Oh, that was her preference.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the young woman stiffen.

“What about the one from UCLA?” Ben asked. “Coach saw him at an exhibition game and likes the way he plays.”

“You’ll have to pay good money for Tyrell Jenkins. He could have been a second-round draft pick if he didn’t have that sprain late last year.”


Tags: Em Brown Erotic