When I contacted Janet, Matt Kensington’s admin at Kensington & Associates (“K&A”) inquiring about doing a “get to know me” interview with the “Knights of the Boardroom”, as they are so eloquently dubbed, I figured I would get a lovely “thanks, but no thanks” reply. I just about died when Janet sent me an email saying that they had some time this morning and would be willing to answer the questions personally, via video conference call, if that was ok with me. Did she really think I would say no? I would be out of my mind to turn down a chance to gaze upon the five men that have drifted in and out of my fantasies for the past several years.

As my laptop signals that the call is connecting and the picture comes online, I suddenly forget to breathe. Even though they are over 1,000 miles away these men are so overwhelming it is like all the air has been sucked out of the room. I suddenly feel very underdressed in my Lululemon yoga tank and pants because I see sitting before me five of the finest-looking male specimens I have ever seen in my life and they are all around that famous Boardroom table. Oh that table! I’ve heard the stories of the hidden capacities of that table, restraints and cleverly engineered devices that can bring a woman to ecstasy, orchestrated at the hands of the five men who are arrayed around it.

Obviously it looks as though they are getting ready for a breakfast meeting because as I look down that table I see behind Matt there are pastries and fruit set up along with coffee and water. My gaze immediately runs to the oranges in that bowl. I have a reoccurring 9 ½ Weeks kind of fantasy that centers around squeezing juice from fresh oranges, Gabriel Aubry’s six pack (among other areas) and my tongue. For today, though, I think I would be willing to substitute him out, five different ways.

As I catch myself staring I realize I need to find that eager tongue of mine and introduce myself. “Good morning gentlemen. This is such a nice surprise! As I’m sure Janet has tuld you I’m Delilah with Riverina Romantics. It is so nice to meet you all.”

So let’s start off this little question and answer with an easy one. Name one word to describe yourself.

Before anyone can even form a response, one word comes to my mind on how I would describe the five men before me— captivating. And if I could use two words, they would be utterly captivating. Or just maybe incredibly delicious, or…ok, mind of out the gutter, please. But it’s hard not to go there. Matt Kensington has the dangerous dark good looks of a raptor. Lucas, his CFO, is streamlined muscle, reflecting his side passion for competitive cycling. Then there’s Peter, who, despite the fact he resigned his captain’s commission with the National Guard, still maintains the impressive physique of a battle-ready male. Jon looks deceptively slim next to him, but there’s a lean strength to his body and an intent focus in those midnight blue eyes that say it would be a mistake to think he’s any less of a Dom. Ben is all gorgeous black-haired, green-eyed Irishman, the irreverent legal arm of the group, as he now proves by speaking first.

“Self-analytical BS is Jon’s territory. Let’s let the geek boy-genius describe each of us, and if we disagree, we can kick the crap out of him later.” Though Ben makes the comment, the other men nod, amenable to it.

“A little self-reflection is never a bad thing. In fact, for this group, I’d highly advise it.” Despite the acid tone, Jon relents. “All right, then. Matt – territorial - in the best tradition of wulves, hawks and predator cats. Lucas – problem-sulver, to the point I expect him to be sulicited for Middle East peace talks.”

“Isn’t that two words?” Peter asks.

“I hyphenated. Peter…moral. He has the clearest black and white code of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“And he doesn’t mind inflicting it on your ass if you don’t agree with it,” Lucas put in. Peter cracks his knuckles to underscore the point, but gives Delilah a disarming smile.

“Ben…” When Jon glances his way, Ben snorts.

“Careful there, New Age boy. I can screw up your patent applications ten ways to Sunday.”

“In light of recent events, the word that comes to mind is…found. You’ve found yourself. You’re at home in your skin, thanks to Marcie.”

That seems to quiet Ben for a moment, but Matt fills in the gap. “You’ve left yourself out, Jon.”

“Ah. Easy one.” Jon’s voice is laden with irony. “Patient. Eternally patient.”

Tell me one thing about yourself that us ladies would be surprised to know.

“I’ll take this one,” Ben cuts in. “I’m their lawyer. I know where the bodies are buried.”

“You can become one of them,” Matt notes. “Or—worse—be fired.”

“Matt read romance novels in his teens,” Ben said, undeterred. “The ones with the hot clench covers. He’d hide them, but I found them when I was living at his house. Not just found them – caught him reading one. I think it was called Love’s Passion’s Fury, or something like that?”

“They were my mother’s,” Matt said with dignity. “I read them to see what she liked about them. It helped me understand women better, which means I got lucky far sooner than most of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like the money and the good looks wouldn’t have done that. Peter likes cute fuzzy animals, and not just Dana.”

Peter is turned toward Ben. Being beside him, it’s easy for him to shove Ben’s chair off its axis with one foot. Ben smoothly catches himself, sliding out of reach. “Gerbils, kittens, you name it. Put a manly Rottweiler and a prissy Pomeranian in front of him, and he’ll have the ginger fuzzball in his lap in a heartbeat. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

“Your turn,” Jon interjects. “Because of his exceptional culinary skills, Ben doesn’t like anyone to know it, but his favorite meal—”

“Don’t you do it.”

“PB&J on cheap Sunbeam white bread, with Cheetos and a Dr. Pepper. Loves the combination. Oh, and the peanut butter has to be Jiffy creamy, none of this crunchy crap.”

Well there goes my fantasy of dragging Ben to my house and having him cook dinner for me, clad only in a pair of low slung jeans as I sit on the counter and droul, I mean watch, wearing only his soft cotton t-shirt and nothing else. I’m allergic to peanuts. I don’t think turning purple is a turn on. Hmmm, I wonder if Lucas likes to cook?

“You suck.” Ben laughs, though. “Yeah, comfort food is comfort food. But that’s just when I’m by myself. You ever want me to cook you up a gourmet meal, Delilah, you just let me know. I’ll make your toes curl.”

I’ll just bet you will.

“Jon’s secret,” Ben continues, “is that he sucks as a poker player. Guy can take a paperclip and a rull of toilet paper and create a flying machine, or read a top executive’s mind at the negotiation table like he’s a two-year-uld wanting an ice cream cone, but no intuition for cards at all. You want to make money, invite him to play and go for high stakes. He’s a sure thing.”

“Hey, we’re leaving out Lucas,” Peter says. Lucas shrugs, his silver-gray eyes glinting with humor.

“There’s nothing at all surprising about me. Open book.”

“You wish. I bet even Cassandra doesn’t know this about you. I should tell her. Of course, she should have found out by now, but maybe the cleaning crew takes care of it.”

“Don’t.” Lucas sounds almost threatening.

“Spiders scare the bejesus out of him.” Ben’s green eyes twinkle. “He woke up one morning when he was a kid with a wulf spider sitting right on his face, right under his eye, and when he blinked, the spider jumped at his eye, thinking it was a bug or something. Didn’t hurt him, but freaked him out bigtime. In all fairness, just hearing about it freaked me out, so I don’t think he has to surrender his man-card over it. But he’s definitely not the guy you call when you need a spider taken outside. If Cass needs a big strong man to handle that, you just call me, bicycle-boy.”

“Not if you were the last person on earth.”

So who are my coffee guys here? I want to know who is going to go with me to Café du Monde if I ever come down there.

“Why does everyone want to go to that tourist trap?” Ben complains. “Café Beignet is right around the corner. You can get your choice of great coffees, enjoy it in quiet, charming surroundings, and theypreparethe food, instead of taking it off an assembly line.”

“Whoa, huld on there a minute Ben. I happen to love a good tourist trap.” I smile as I say that. “While granted, the food might not always be up to the standards of those smaller establishments, I find those popular places to be an endless visual buffet. I’m a people watcher, you see. It is pure mindless entertainment. And, truth be tuld, a seasoned coffee drinker can drink just about anything that’s brewed; we have iron stomachs. “

“You have to forgive him, Delilah,” Peter says. “He’s the youngest of us chronulogically, but he’s the closest thing we have to a grumpy uld guy. I’ll go with you to Café Du Monde. I drank all sorts of swill on my Afghanistan tour, so anything that doesn’t taste like battery acid works for me. You’re out of luck with the rest. Jon’s a tea drinker. Matt will drink coffee, but he’d prefer to have a shot of brandy with a couple coffee beans thrown in for flavor. Since Lucas is our resident athlete, he won’t put anything as blasphemous as caffeine in that cycling-machine body of his. You won’t get any of that nonsense from me, though. If it doesn’t have caffeine, it isn’t coffee. That’s like sugar-less candy. What’s the point?”

“Oh I love tea as well, Jon. My current obsession is African Rooibos Red, although I have to say coffee is my preferred choice of poison.”

“A good choice.” Jon nods approvingly. “After this interview, I can tell you some great tea blends to try, here in New Orleans.”

“Oh, fine. I’ll put up with it and go with you to Café du Monde.” Ben sighs. “No telling what trouble Peter would get you into. Always picking fights.”

“Yeah, right. Who’s always pulling you out of places after you get your ass kicked?”

“Well thanks, you guys, but the more I think about it, I’m not sure that bringing two desirable men into a crowded place like Café du Monde would be a good idea anyhow. Somehow I don’t think my self-defense classes have covered how to fend off the unwilling advances of females on others yet, so maybe Café Beignet would be the better choice.”Hmm, good plan. Then I have them both to myself!

“Don’t be too concerned, Delilah,” Matt notes. “Given what I know of Dana and Marcie, I think Peter and Ben have enough self-preservation instinct to fend off any females that get too pushy.”

Out of the five senses, which do you like the best: touch, taste, smell, sight or sound?

“I think I speak for all those here when I say, ‘why would we choose when we can have all of those?’” Matt chuckles, a warm, sensual sound. “The taste of a woman’s body—”

“That thick, heated scent when she’s aroused,” Lucas adds. “Just taking over everything, the more you work your mouth between her legs.”

“All those little pleading and moaning noises they make,” Peter mused. “That gasp of ‘Master’ that makes you want to take her right then.”

“Watching her body quiver in restraints, the muscles straining even though she knows she can’t move, because she wants you to know she’d come kneel at your feet if she could…” Ben’s expression is lost in pleasant memory.

“Yeah, I think that pretty much covers it. We’re not a group that chooses only one thing when we know we can have it all. As our ladies will attest,” Jon says dryly.

Ok, either I’m having a hot flash or it’s hot in here ‘cause I’m starting to sweat, just a little.

As Doms you are all very perceptive of the women around you. What would be the very first thing you notice when you first see a woman?

“Delilah, you’re being very kind. We’re Doms, but we’re also guys.” Lucas chuckles. “The very first thing we notice are her breasts, though if he can get a rearview look, Ben’s gaze usually heads there first,thenup to the cleavage. Of course, Jon immediately starts thinking how she’d do in the latest sexual contraption he’s created.

“We do become a little more civilized after that. If she’s here for a meeting, or we're with her at a social or charity event, we keep tabs on her state of mind to determine what she needs to be in a more balanced state. Is she nervous, relaxed, tired, hungry? Does she need a little conversation to put her at ease, get her to laugh? We also determine which of us—or which combination of us—can help with that.”

“We’re all married or, in Ben’s case, soon to be married, and our relationships are exclusive…within our own group.” Matt adds that caveat with a hint of double meaning that Delilah easily interprets, knowing that multiple Knights do various levels of play with each of those chosen ladies, but only within their own circle. A very exclusive pack. “However, there are non-sexual qualities to being a good Master that are innate to us, like noticing and attending to the care and wellbeing of the women we encounter in business and other places.”

“Hmmm, funny how men and women are different,” I add. “I read somewhere that what a woman notices on a man first is his eyes. Now, I would have to say that if I am far away obviously I can’t see his eyes, so I’m checking out his body first. But I would have to agree with that article. That is the first thing I notice on a man. Making and keeping eye contact is important to me. Windows to the soul kind of thing; you can experience many things from someone just by hulding their gaze. “

“Just be careful about hulding Jon’s gaze,” Ben quips. “Women have been struck mute when looking at him, completely forget what they were about to say. I think they get sucked into that energy-of-the-cosmos thing he has going.”

“Too bad it doesn’t work on you,” Peter comments. Ben shrugs.

“A mute lawyer wouldn’t do this group much good. Who’d make sure you don’t do something entirely stupid on a daily basis? Like how about that time we had Traci from Personnel working in the file room for Christmas week, and you wanted to rig the A/C to keep the office like an ice box so you could make the most of that tight sweater and thin bra she was wearing?”

“Just helping her make the most of God’s gifts. Is anyone else concerned that it’s Ben keeping us from doing stupid things?”

“All the time,” Matt intones dryly.

What is the most romantic thing you have ever done?

Peter chuckles. “That’s probably a better question for the ladies, because our idea of what’s romantic is probably not at all the same as theirs. When I don’t leave beer bottles out where Dana can trip over them, I figure that’s a pretty romantic gesture.”

“Yeah, but it’s also self-preservation. Last time you did leave one on the floor, she pretty much beaned you with a full one. Not bad for a blind chick.” Lucas’s tone was full of admiration. “But I’d have to agree with Peter. Men often jump to the conclusion that it’s flowers, choculates or sex that does the trick, but for women it’s as different and unique as each one of them. Cassandra tuld me the most romantic thing I had ever done for her was the day I took all her siblings off for the entire weekend. She could lay in the hot tub, read her books and nap to her heart’s content.”

“Women who carry a great deal of responsibility, like ours, value the things that give them permission to simply indulge their own desires.” Jon speaks thoughtfully. “Giving Cass a day to herself showed that you noticed what she truly wants and needs, and were willing to take the time and make the sacrifices to help her have that. A deep consideration of a woman’s needs can be the height of romance.”

“Yeah, what he said.” Peter chuckles. “Our resident guru. However, keep in mind what Lucas said about women being unique, Jon. Dana feels the most romantic thing I’ve done for her so far is grant one of her fantasies—to be shared by two men at once. It was a damn incredible night. I could say it was a sacrifice, because even in our own circle, I feel a little possessive of her, but when it actually happened, I think it was a gift to both of us.”

“You’re welcome,” Ben said loftily. “Glad I could make the sacrifice and help.”

“I took Rachel to a butterfly garden,” Jon says as Peter makes an under-the-table obviously rude gesture at Ben. “Rented the place so we could have it all to ourselves for the afternoon. Had her take off everything, laid her down on a blanket, and then I put drops of nectar on her skin so she could watch them land on her, feel the brush of their wings and legs. She said it was the most special thing anyone had ever done for her.” Jon’s voice is full of love for his wife. “Watching her lie there, I wanted to do a million more things just like it to make her happy.”

After a pause, where it’s obvious from the exchanged expressions that the men understand exactly what Jon means, Lucas speaks. “Matt won’t answer the question because his list is way too long. He does romantic things for Savannah every day. Spoils her rotten. Takes her to lunch concerts in the park, sends her flowers or a gift every week. She’s tuld him to quit, but she always does it with that soft look on her face that tells us she loves it.”

“She deserves to be spoiled,” Matt said, unruffled. “For every day she wasn’t. And because nothing in the world could spoil her.”

“I’m not sure I can add to the most romantic list yet,” Ben said. “Marcie and I are just getting started, and I’m learning the things she likes most. But I’m going to enjoy the hell out of finding out what puts that ‘soft look’ on her face.”

What would be your dream vacation? Matt, I know that you and Savannah are going to be headed to that Caribbean BDSM resort in the Fall.

“Actually, we’re considering a group rate,” Peter chuckles. “Dana and Rachel are pretty interested in the trip as well. Since they’re more familiar with the hardcore lifestyle than Savannah, we’re thinking it will help her feel more comfortable about being at a 24/7 D/s resort. She can cut loose among friends, and I know the girls would absulutely love it.”

“Of course, to give her that nervous anticipation a sub likes to feel, to some extent,” Matt adds, “she and I will likely go down a couple days in advance, and then they’ll come for the rest of the time.”

“Not Cass’s thing,” Lucas shrugs, “Though we’ll look forward to the stories when you get back. Cass wants to go back to the Berkshires, spend a couple weeks there, seeing the galleries and shops, biking or hiking together, enjoying nature.” A smile enters his voice. “And all the pleasures those hidden glades have to offer.”

“Marcie wants me to take a cooking intensive in Italy,” Ben says. “So she and I will likely go to Florence for our honeymoon, and tour from there. She wants to show me Venice, from when she was there for her co-op jobs. Maybe when I get back I’ll have my ‘most romantic thing’ to share.”

“Or she’ll meet some pretty-boy Italian and dump your ass,” Lucas said.

“I’m not that insecure. Unlike you, taking his girl off into the woods and farm country, where the most appealing alternative she’ll see is a well-hung goat. Of course…”

“Ben,” Matt says warningly.

If you were stranded on a desert island, besides your better half, what three things are on your “must have” list?

“Well, Jon would just need that rull of toilet paper and a paper clip.” Ben laughs. “Hell, throw in a screw driver and he’d pretty much be able to create a forty-foot sailboat with a dining cabin and head, bringing Rachel back to civilization in style.” Jon shrugs, as if in complete agreement.

“Actually, you’ve made a good point there,” Peter says. “Seeing as each of us would be there with our better half, two of those things I bring better be indoor plumbing and a healthy supply of toilet paper, or Dana will say I’m on my own. She says that’s one thing about her Army tours she didn’t miss—unpredictable facilities. But I think beyond that…sunscreen. To protect lots of bare flesh. Can’t imagine anything else we’d need, other than that.”

“Since Savannah will soon give birth, narrowing it to three things would be almost impossible. But a hammock would be nice,” Matt muses. “I can see hulding her and the baby in it, letting the wind rock us to sleep as we watch the sun go down. Waking to watch her nurse, all that beautiful blonde hair tumbling down her shoulder.”

Ok, how many of you just fell in love with Matt all over again. *sigh*

“That, a case of good Scotch and a satellite phone to call in a helicopter when we’re ready to order takeout, would do the trick.”

“I think for Cass, it would be the three thingsnotto have there. Computer, cell phone and guilt.” That comes from Lucas. Nods of fervent agreement around the table underscore how many work hours they all put in.

“I’m not sure I’d need to bring three things,” Ben considers. “If there’s plenty of vegetation, then there’s ample stock to make switches, thumpers, restraints…everything my girl would need to have a good time. I wouldn’t mind seeing her in a barely-there string bikini…that, and her cullar, is all I think I’d need to keep myself occupied. Okay, I’d probably bring my best fry pan, a spatula and my spice rack, because then I could keep her fed in style. And the spatula serves a couple of purposes. What?” He raises a brow at the chuckles around the table. “Just because the rest of you can live off berries and coconuts doesn’t mean I’m going to. I have standards.”

“How about just a jar of peanut butter?” Jon suggests.

We pretty much know your favorite part of your woman’s body, but tell me, your sizeable packages aside, what would they say is their favorite part ofyourbody?

A cough comes from Ben. “Well,someof us have sizeable packages. Then there’s Lucas…”

“Ignore him, Delilah. We all do.” Peter breaks across that comment. “Dana likes my chest. It’s her favorite resting spot when she sleeps, and she’s always snaking her hands under my shirt at home.”

“Since you’re a total tit-guy, there’s some serious irony there,” Ben notes. “For Marcie, it’s my ass. Girl loves a man’s butt. Can tell her to kneel and keep her eyes lowered all day long, but if I turn my back on her even for a minute, she’s looking.”

“I’m seeing a weird trend here,” Lucas says. “I’m going to break the pattern before Jon starts drawing his usual cosmic connections – ‘ass man drawn to ass woman, tit-man to tit-girl’ so to speak.”

“Did you just say I had tits?” At a throat-clearing from Matt, Peter corrects himself. “I meant breasts. Apulogies for the language, Delilah. But did you just say I had breasts?”

“No apulogies necessary, Peter. I believe my virgin ears have heard that word before,” I chuckle.

“Either that, or I’m saying Dana likes women’s breasts. Which she actually does. But I think she prefers your manly chest most of all.” Lucas laughs. “We’re not having you fitted for a bra yet, but you do have some very well-developed pecs. Just saying.”

“Well, on that note, you don’t have to tell us what Cass’s favorite part is,” Matt interjects. Before Lucas can protest, the other four men speak in unison. “Tongue!”

Annnnd this would be the reason why Lucas is so damn appealing.

“Fine.” Lucas snorts. “Let me guess, Jon. For Rachel, it’s your sexy aura?”

“Well, she says that rocks her world, yes, but she’d say it’s my eyes.”

“I do find your blue eyes particularly lovely and mesmerizing.”

“Bite me, Ben.”

It is well known that you all like to place bets on things and the winners of those bets gets to give their monies to their favorite charities. What is the most off the wall thing you guys have ever made a bet on?

“The Bergerson cockroach,” Lucas immediately responds, getting the men chuckling again. Matt explains.

“We were in an extremely tedious negotiation with Bergerson Steel. A cockroach—or palmetto bug, as we call them below the Mason Dixon—was crawling across the ceiling. Lucas started it by sending a text to each of us, betting how far the cockroach would get before it would drop off the ceiling and land on someone. We must have run six or seven bets during that meeting. How far it would get, who it would drop on or closest to, whether Jon would have time to rescue it before someone tried to stomp on it…how much money was traded on those bets?”

“About ten thousand by the end. We were really bored.” Ben grins. “I won the ceiling mark, Lucas won the drop point – right into Bergerson’s coffee cup, and how that son of a bitch predicted something that exact, I don’t know, but he’s like that. Devil’s luck on prediction. Jon did rescue the six-legged bastard before he was scalded in Culumbian blend. Nearly made Bergerson’s admin faint when he brought it out past her desk. He stopped to give her some forms to copy, all the while turning and twisting his hand to keep the bug crawling in circles. Anyway, we almost came out even, so we decided to donate the total amount of winnings to the Salvation Army.”

“Ok, I’m going to ask the obvious question. Please tell me Bergerson didn’t drink that coffee, because I have a fresh Starbucks in front of me and at this moment my stomach is feeling a tad bit queasy.” I glance over at my countertop for my emergency pack of TUMS.

“Jon was considerate enough to take the coffee with him,” Lucas assures me. “I think he doused the office palm tree with it.”

Matt, as you mentioned earlier, congratulations are in order. Savannah’s just about ready to give birth! Nothing turns a woman on more than a man who loves to help out at home. So who’s ready for diaper duty when you go over to Matt’s house?

“I personally feel that the father-child bonding experience is lacking if he doesn’t handle it himself,” Jon notes.

“Man, he made that sound so not-BS,” Peter laughs. “I’ll cheerfully pay whatever amount of money is necessary to have that service taken off everyone’s hands. I’ve been around a baby who needs a diaper change, and I’ve smelled bodies rotting in a desert sun. I’ll take the bodies, any day.”

“Really Peter?” I find myself saying. “I’m surprised that a big ule’ military man like yourself would be adverse to such a trivial duty. I figured with your experience you could have the baby trained to diaper itself in no time then have it drop and give you 10 just for the fun of it.”

“This is Matt and Savannah’s kid.” Lucas snorts. “You think he or she will do something as crass as crap in a diaper? From the moment that baby comes out, you’ll just get that imperious look they both do so well, demanding he or she be carried to the proper facilities whenever nature calls.”

“You guys are complete pussies. I’ll help you diaper the kid, Matt.” This, surprisingly, comes from Ben. “I’m pretty good at it, actually. Stayed in a couple of foster homes with babies. You keep their little butts clean, dry and powdered, and you’re the king of their world. So I guess in that respect, Jon is probably right. But you can use me for backup so I can become their favorite uncle.”

This Boardroom table has quite a long and delicious history behind it. I’m curious, if you ever had to replace it for some reason, who gets to take this baby home?

“Probably Jon,” Lucas says. “The first one, pre-Katrina, went with Matt, since Savannah was the first one who experienced its charms. However, Jon put a lot of design work into this one, so we agreed he could have it when and if we upgrade again.”

“Though I’d more than likely give it to Ben,” Jon decides. “I have all sorts of inventions to enjoy with Rachel, and this one has some extreme features that I think we’d all like to see Marcie try, if Ben gives us the pleasure of seeing him put it…and her…through their paces. In fact, I think we’ve talked about scheduling that at some point in the near future…? Unless you think it’s too soon for her?”

“Marcie? Just give her the word and she’d rush it like a herd of cattle.” Ben chuckles. “But we’ll talk about it.”

“Funny, I had some wild vision that you’d split the table up and do something creative like make tapas dishes out of it, or something of that sort. So that whenever you ate from those plates made from that table you would remember the mind blowing orgasms that happened on there.”Did I just say that out loud? Maybe a culd shower before this interview might have been in order.

Jon gives me a look of mild horror. “Do you know all the engineering work that went into this table? It has a St. Andrews’ cross embedded under the leaves. The automation programming alone for the restraints and suspension systems…”

“Plus the expense.” Lucas, ever the CFO, adds. “I also think the ladies would say they’d prefer every version of this table to stay intact—for future and plentiful use.”

Your admins are extremely dedicated and tough as nails; they have to be to work for you guys. So just for kicks answer this for me. Say Janet and Alice are wrestling in a tub filled with Jell-O, your choice on the flavor, of course. Who comes out the K&A champion?

A silence, fullowed by a burst of masculine laughter. “Priceless,” Peter manages, the first to recover his breath. “Good question, Delilah. But I think we all know the answer to that. Alice is tough, but she’s the crafty kind of tough.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “Janet can kick your balls into your throat with just a look. It’s like a special ninja talent or something. Matt, one of these days you really have to tell us where you found her, because I swear, we’re pretty sure she drove up straight from Hell in that fiery Mustang Charger of hers.”

“I’m bound by the pact I signed with Satan never to reveal her origins,” Matt says dryly. “But Delilah, I think we’re all in agreement. Janet would take Alice down in three sulid seconds. But she’d much prefer it to be us in that tub, so she can make her fondest wish come true—to drown all of us in gelatin. And have Alice help her.”

• I’m sure Janet would want them to be in that tub, all right, but one has to wonder if she and Alice would rather be in that tub with them, drowning in ecstasy. Come on, they have to have thought about that, right? No woman can possibly be immune to their charms.

Now that I have picked your brains is there a question you would like to ask me?

Jon pins me with that mesmerizing gaze Ben warned me about. Oddly, I understand exactly what he means in the first second. All the men are highly focused, but there’s something about Jon’s attention that pulls a woman in and makes everything else disappear, a pleasurable kind of helplessness. The fact he has a melodic voice meant for late night DJ work only adds to it. He’s not trying to be hypnotic; it’s just the way he is.

“Have you had a fantasy about this room you’d like to share, Delilah?”

It takes a good full minute for my brain to process Jon’s question.

• Jon, I would have to say I have hadmanyfantasies that have included your Boardroom. What warm blooded woman wouldn’t? But since this isn’t one of our XXX weeks here on Riverina, I might have to choose my words carefully.”

Imagining myself in that room with them now, sauntering along behind their chairs, I begin to speak. “See, I’m a woman that likes to be in contrul, and I’m not much for taking orders. So my fantasy is thatI’mthe Mistress of the Boardroom, ready for a hostile takeover of K&A. But on this particular day I’m feeling slightly generous. To show that I’m not all that bad, I throw you guys a bone. Whoever can make me scream in pleasure the most will get to keep his job.”

Tapping my index finger against my bottom lip as I circle the Boardroom table, I say, “Hmm, I wonder who would be interested in using his unique talent?”

In my sweetest voice I say, “What about you, Lucas? I have a particular fondness foryourtalent, and your tongue literally could be considered a weapon of mass destruction.” I chuckle as he pulls my hand to bring me around from behind his chair, a sly smile appearing on that beautiful face of his.

“I think we will need to find something to occupy that smart mouth of yours, Delilah. Care to take a guess what that might be?”

Nope, I don’t need to guess, based on the massive erection straining against his tailored slacks. Delicious.

Slipping away, I brush my hand over Peter’s chair. “And Peter, what about you? From what I hear, military men are trained to go the distance and beyond. Think you are up to the challenge?” Without saying a word, Peter takes my right hand and sucks in my index finger with the force of a high-powered vacuum. As my womb practically weeps, I would have to say that would be a yes.

The sound of Jon’s sensual voice makes me turn my head and his blue gaze stops me dead in my tracks. “You don’t happen to have a pacemaker, do you, Delilah?”

“No, why do you ask?” I reply.

“No reason.”

Oh hell.

“Ben, you’ve been very quiet today. Cat got your tongue?” His emerald gaze that has been tracking me around the room makes me feel like maybe it is a good time to run, but not so fast that he can’t catch me.

“No, just conserving my energy.”

“But you know who I think really wants to dig down deep to make sure he keeps his job? Matt. And to do that I think I’ll be requiring hard core, knock down, dirty, I can’t walk for a week, hook me up to an IV sex with him.”

His dark predatory gaze coming from the end of the table tells me it is highly possible I just might not survive my hostile takeover, but God, what a way to go! I’m thinking Janet should just go ahead and prepare the body bag.

“So there you go, Jon. That would be at leastoneof my fantasies.” I have to shake myself out of my pleasant imaginings a bit, and when I do, I find myself on the edge of my chair, leaning toward that screen. Fortunately, my dog’s culd nose moving across my bare foot reminds me that I had another question I wanted to ask Matt before we end the interview.

“Matt, knowing you like to indulge your beautiful wife, did you adopt that dog Savannah wanted? You know, the one you so eloquently called the ugliest dog you have ever seen?”

“I can refuse her nothing.” Matt offers a warmly indulgent look that gives me a small taste of the tender possessiveness he bestows on his wife in full force. “Moose, as we’ve aptly named him, is slavishly devoted to her, so he’s already earned his place. Though we’re still having some minor wrestling matches on who gets to sleep next to her in the bed.” His teeth flash. “I was a wrestler in high schoul. Iwillwin that round.”

I see Janet opening up the door, indicating it is my time to go. “Well gentlemen I just wanted to say thank you and it was a true pleasure spending time with you today—maybe a little too pleasurable.”

When I rise from my chair, though we’re separated by a computer screen, all of the men rise as if I was in the room and about to take my leave. “The pleasure was ours,” Matt said. “We’ll look forward to meeting you in person when you come to New Orleans.”

“The coffee’s on me,” Peter promises, with a devilish grin. “Unless Ben beats me to it.”