Chapter 29 - Ensnared.

Ensnared: To be caught; to have been lured into a trap or snare.

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Brian's POV

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"We got the incorporation papers filed with the Secretary of State this morning, Bri. You are now the sole shareholder of TelePhonix, a lovely shell corporation with no assets, no other shareholders and no actual business opportunities," Ted informs me. "Now, what exactly are we doing with this useless company?"

"We are going to be the sole North American wholesaler for the brand new Hikaroshi Smart Phone," I inform him.

"What? Hikaroshi? Isn't that the company that came to us last month? Didn't you send them packing? The due diligence I did showed they were going to be sued by Apple any day now for multiple patent violations. If you refused to do their advertising, why the hell would you want to invest in the company?"

"I'm not going to invest a penny in the company. I'm just going to drum up a retailer who will agree to invest big bucks for the exclusive North American marketing rights to the new Hikaroshi 'Cyborg' smartphone. Of course, if I'm right about this particular retailer, he's too greedy to bother with any due diligence. As long as we move fast enough, we should be able to get a signed commitment before the patent infringement suit is filed. Then . . . well, if all goes as I hope, one particular retailer will be SOL."

"Oh. I get it. That's . . . that's fucking brilliant, Brian. But, aren't you setting yourself up for some significant liability when the shit hits the fan? I mean, we both know this phone is just a cheap knockoff and Apple will eventually win their suit. You don't want to be in the middle of that firestorm when it hits, Brian."

"That's why I'm trusting in you, Theodore, to make sure you and my lawyers got all the paperwork done right," I'm adamant with my accountant, friend and employee. "If you did your jobs right, TelePhonix should have no overt connections to Kinnetik or me and when the whole deal goes belly up, well, the only entity with any assets in the U.S. will be the poor retailer."

"Well, the incorporation documents are pretty standard. From a financial standpoint you should be fine. All your personal assets have been protected for a long time prior to this, so no one can claim fraudulent transfers of assets at this point. And Kinnetik is definitely solid. I can't speak to the legal side of things, but I'm fairly confident on the financial side, Bri," Ted reassures me.

"As long as you've done what you were supposed to do, Theodore, I know we'll be fine. Now, get back to your real work and send in Cynthia," I shoo Ted out so I can proceed with my next step. 

"You've got a meeting at three thirty today with Craig Taylor, owner and CEO of Taylor Electronics, dba, Big Boyz Stores," Cynthia says as she bustles into my office. "By the way, that was way too easy. His secretary is useless. I'm guessing she's skinny, blonde and has a bigger bra size than her IQ. If you do get to meet her you have to text me her photo so I can see what this trollop looks like, Brian," Cynthia opines as she bounces into my office with the piles of papers I have to sign this morning - fuck, I love her overly competent soul.

"Excellent. Cynthia, remind me again, next week, to give you another raise. You've definitely earned it."

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Justin's POV

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Jessica and I have been working on our new proposal all morning. We're pretty much done now and we just have to run it by the head of the art department first before we take the idea to Brian. I hope he likes it. It's been fun working with Jessica. I enjoyed exchanging ideas with her and then doing the actual work together. This 'job' thing isn't half bad. It hasn't even been two full weeks and I already feel like I kind of fit in here. Weird, huh?

Brian doesn't have time to stop for lunch today, he says. I'm just starting to feel strange about it and wonder what I'll do for that whole hour alone, when Ted comes downstairs and asks if I want to join him and Emmett for lunch at the Diner. 

I've never gone to lunch with anyone except Brian before so I'm a little hesitant. I put my hands in the pockets of my pants and start to withdraw as I normally would, but then I feel my new bank card in my pants' pocket. That little piece of plastic gives me just enough confidence that I actually change my mind and tell Ted yes, that I'd love to join him and Emmett for lunch.

And it goes really, really well, too. Deb is working and just asks if I want my usual - to which I nod - so I don't have to actually even try to order. Em and Ted spend most of the time gossiping about people I don't even know, so I don't feel obligated to join in the conversation. When they do ask me questions or include me in the conversation, I'm able to answer and it feels almost natural. 

Then, about halfway through lunch I get a text from Daphne telling me to check my email. So I do and that email gets me a little concerned. 

'Jus. I think I just screwed up. Sorry. Your mother just called me to give me the great news that you'd surfaced again and were okay. I let slip that I'd seen you. I didn't know you hadn't talked to her yet. She knows now that I know where and how to find you. I DIDN'T tell her where you are, but I got the impression she's going to try to find you herself, soon. I'm really, really sorry if I messed things up for you. Call me later, please, and let me know you're okay. Daph.'

Shit. I'd been putting off thinking about whether or not to talk to my mother. But now it looks like I'm going to have to make that decision. Only, I don't yet know what I want. I wish Brian weren't so busy - I would really like to talk to him about this. Maybe I should call him?

While I'm still contemplating what to do about my mother, the bell over the entrance door of the Diner dings and several people come in at once. I'm not really paying attention - I'm trying to figure out where I tap on my phone to forward a copy of Daphne's email on to Brian, which I know can be done, but I can't remember how. Then I hear a familiar voice which causes me to freeze. 

"Hi there. Remember me?," the voice says from the counter area. "I'm Jennifer Taylor. I was here the other day with your son, Brian Kinney? I know he said he'd tell Justin I wanted to see him, but I still haven't heard from my son. I was hoping that you might know something and would help me. Please. Mother to mother? I just want a chance to talk to Justin and to make sure he's alright."

From my seat in the last booth with my back to the door, I look surreptitiously over at the counter and see a petite, well-dressed blonde woman seated at the counter talking to Debbie. Deb doesn't look directly at me, but I know she sees me looking at her. I shake my head, telling her that 'no', I'm not ready for this yet. She gives me a very small, almost unnoticeable nod. She quickly writes something on her order pad and hands it to Kiki telling the other waitress to 'take care of this' for her. Then, Deb turns to address my mother.

"Jennifer, I thought Brian was clear that it was Justin's decision whether or not he wanted to contact you. I understand that as his mother you are concerned about him. I'm a mother too and I'd feel the same way about my son. But, not only is Justin an adult now, who has the right to choose for himself, from what I understand about the situation, he also has a lot of reasons not to trust you. So I think you're gonna have to just back the fuck off and let your son make his decision in peace," Debbie is saying to the woman seated with her back to the booth where I'm sitting.

Meanwhile, Kiki comes over to our booth and sets the sheet Deb tore out of her order pad on the table top. It says, 'Kiki, take this to Ted and Em's table.' Then there's a horizontal line and below the line it reads, 'Justin, Go out the back through the kitchen door. I'll keep her attention on me. Deb.'

I don't think either Ted or Emmett know what's going on. But to their credit, they follow Deb's advice perfectly - ushering me ahead of them out through the back, with the very tall and robust Kiki further shielding our retreat with her person. We're out the back door in no time and halfway down the block before they stop me to ask what that was all about. 

"That was my mother," I explain to Ted and Em. "She's looking for me - you know, the missing person flyers? But I don't know if I want to . . ."

"Oh, Sweetie," Emmett gushes, enveloping me in a huge hug. "Say no more. We understand, don't we Teddy. That was quick thinking on Deb's part. Come on, Baby. We'll get you back to work safe and sound. If you want to talk about it later, though, I'm here for you."

Fuck. Now what do I do?

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Brian's POV

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I hope Justin's okay. Ted told me what happened at the Diner today. But I've been so busy with one meeting right after another that I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet. Fuck, I shouldn't have met Jennifer at the Diner in the first place. I didn't expect her to come back there. Shit. Well, thank Debbie for her quick thinking. I really need to talk to Justin though and make sure he's dealing with this alright. This meeting is too important though to put off, so Justin will have to wait till later. 

When I show up at the brand new flagship store for Big Boyz I'm utterly unimpressed. First of all, this place is way the hell out in the burbs. Then there's the fact that it's in the ugliest kind of strip mall - random different sized big box stores all smashed together with no architectural design whatsoever in the middle of acres of barren asphalt parking lot. And, probably the worst sin of all, their advertising sucks - its dull, uninspired, utilitarian and everything else I hate about crappy advertising. It's no wonder Ted's info showed the business was on the edge of ruin. 

I walk in and ask the first clerk I see to take me to the office. I'm directed through a small, unmarked door in the rear of the store. The offices themselves are just as ugly as the rest of the building. So, I guess it's pretty clear that Craig Taylor has no fucking taste whatsoever. I can definitely use that info to my advantage.

Just then I see a petite blond woman with absolutely huge knockers - obviously surgically enhanced - scuttling my direction. I pretend to be looking at something on my phone while I snap a quick photo for Cynthia. She's gonna love how right she was about this 'trollop'. Then the trollop is upon me and it's time to put on my 'Smarmy Salesman' personae and sell these tasteless uneducated suburbanites the metaphorical Brooklyn Bridge.

"Can I help you?" Blondie's voice is high pitched and nasal and secretly makes my skin crawl.

"You already have, beautiful, just by being alive," I say with the Kinney charm on full blast.

"Oh my," Tittsy McGee titters at me, eating up the compliment and fawning all over me - I feel like I need a hot shower already. 

"If you wanted to be extra special wonderful, though, you could point me towards Craig Taylor. I'm supposed to be meeting with him, although I'm not sure I want to leave you alone that long. You promise me that you'll wait for me, sweetheart?" I say, laying it on extra schmoopy.

Rule #1 of sales: Always sell to the secretaries and support staff just as hard as you do the target because they're usually far more influential than you'd think. 

"Craig's office is the big one over there," Tittsy tells me and points the way with her ample chest. "Oh, I guess I'm supposed to have got your name first and asked if you had an appointment. You do, doncha?"

"Yes, I do have an appointment," I answer as I pull out my platinum card case and hand her one of the new TelePhonix cards Cynthia had made in less than an hour for me at Kinko's. "And my name is Brian, but you can call me anything you want just so long as you DO call me."

"I'd love to, Brian," Tittsy says, taking the card, batting her lashes at me and 'accidentally' rubbing one of her huge tits against my arm - I feel so filthy and have to stop myself from visibly shuddering at her touch. "Let me show you to Craig's office, honey. This way."

Titts sways her gargantuan rack across the room towards the closed office door that she'd indicated earlier belonged to my target. Through the glass panel beside the door, I can see a largish dirty blond man sitting behind a big, cluttered desk, his chair tipped back and his feet up, resting on the edge of a partly opened drawer. The secretary knocks on the door then opens it without waiting for a response. She announces me to her boss and then smiles at me while I cross in front of her and walk sideways through the door, all the while trying to avoid touching the fake boobs practically blocking the way. I give her one last wink as I pass, then she closes the door behind me and it's showtime for real.

"Craig Taylor? I'm Brian Kinney, CEO of TelePhonix. Thanks for meeting with me today," I march up to the man at the desk and seize his hand in a power grip handshake - the kind this type of idiot feels is necessary to prove just how manly you really are.

"Mr. Kinney. Nice to meet you. How can I help you?" Taylor responds as he sits back down behind his desk. 

"Well, the first thing you can do is call me Brian. Mr. Kinney was my father and he's dead so you don't want to make that mistake," I tell him, forcing a jovial fake laugh as I speak. "The second thing, Craig - I can call you Craig, can't I, since I already feel like we're going to be friends - the second thing is that you can tell me what you're planning on doing with all the buckets of money you could be making by this time next year if this deal I'm putting together goes through."

Craig Taylor stands up and walks around the desk to 'size me up' at this point. I take the opportunity to do likewise. I estimate that he's just under six feet tall. He's about fifty and looks every year of it. His features are heavier boned than his son's but I can see some of the same lines there - the same jawline, same cheekbones. But, otherwise I see very little resemblance between this bulky middle aged man and my own delicate, slender blond. Justin obviously takes after his mother, thank whatever gods might be out there.

"I'm listening, Mr. Kinney," Craig says, deliberately calling me by my last name in an obvious power play move, as he stands defiantly in front of me. "But you can toss the hard sell tactics. They don't work on me."

'Yeah, right', I think, as I already see the greed glint in his cloudy grey-blue eyes. "No hard sell here, Craig. Just a man who's running out of time to get this deal put together. I mean, can you imagine where you'd be today if you'd been in on the ground floor when the iPhone was introduced? Well, we could be in pretty much the same place right now. This new generation of smartphones is gonna make the iPhone obsolete in five years."

I hand him one of the sample phones I still had from when Kinnetik had been thinking about taking on Hikaroshi as a client. They're actually pretty nice looking, sturdy feeling phones with much larger screens than the iPhone. If you only saw the phones and didn't dig a little deeper into the company, you'd probably think this was a brilliant business move. Cue Craig Taylor.

"I have less than a week to finalize my plans, Craig. This phone is amazing. Its twice as fast as the iPhone with two times the memory and it costs a tenth of the price to manufacture thanks to Hikaroshi's chinese and korean factories. But, TelePhonix will lose its exclusive wholesaling rights if I don't sign some retailers fast. So, what do you say, Craig? Is Taylor Electronics ready to step up into the big leagues and become the exclusive North American retailer for the 'Cyborg'?"

As I watch Craig Taylor looking at the phone in his hands, pushing buttons and checking out all the preloaded apps, I know he's already sold. If I didn't feel like strangling the man every time I look at him, I could even let myself relax a bit. But I know that if I don't keep a tight rein on my anger, instead of shaking this monster's hand to seal the deal, I'll be slamming my fist into his face just like good old Jack taught me. I'm doing this for Justin, though, so I keep my cool, keep the mask in place and try not to let my disgust show when Craig offers to once again shake my hand.

I leave suburbia two hours later with a verbal commitment from Taylor that will give Taylor Electronics exclusive retailing rights for two years. The contract with Hikaroshi will be financed by TelePhonix and secured by practically everything Craig Taylor owns - his business, all business assets, even the couple of pieces of real property he owns. He'll have to take out a second mortgage on his home to swing his cash buy in requirements, but I couldn't care less about that. What I want are his businesses. Once I have those assets all tied up, safe and sound, there'll be plenty of time to go after his personal assets. 

By the time I'm through with him, Craig Taylor should have just as few assets to his name as Justin Taylor had when I first met him.

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Justin's POV

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Brian calls to tell me that he's asked Ted to drive me back to the loft. He says he's stuck in traffic somewhere out in the 'hells of suburbia'. But, in spite of the traffic, Brian sounds like he's in a good mood. He says he wants to go out to celebrate and tells me to put on something to wear to the club because we're going dancing tonight. I don't know if I'm excited or terrified by that idea. But as long as I'm with Brian, I guess it doesn't matter.

I head up to Ted's office as soon as I get off the phone with Brian. Ted is just getting ready to leave. We head out but we have to pick up Emmett on the way, of course. And, unfortunately, Emmett wants to talk about my mother and what happened at lunch. I don't really want to talk about it but how do you stop Emmett from talking? 

In the end I just tell him that I wasn't sure I was ready to see her, is all, and I need a little more time. Em is sympathetic and goes on to tell some story about his childhood that he feels is somehow applicable. I don't really listen but it takes up the rest of the car ride without my having to say much, so that's good.

As I'm getting out of the car at the loft, I make the mistake of telling them that I'm going to have to go figure out what to wear out to the club tonight. Emmett immediately pops out of the car, citing a 'Fashion Emergengy', and follows me upstairs so he can go through my entire wardrobe - which he already knows since he bought it all for me - until he finds the perfect outfit which he says will bring out my eyes. Luckily, Brian shows up after I've had to try on only about five outfits and shoos Em and Ted out telling them we'll meet them at Woody's later.

Then, Brian engulfs me in his arms and makes up for the fact that I haven't seen him in almost nine hours by kissing me thoroughly until we're both a little breathless. I guess missing Brian all day isn't so bad if I get this reaction when I finally do get to see him. He seems a little needy tonight - like he maybe missed me a little today too, which kinda makes me smile. 

"Ick! I stink like those suburban cretin I had to be around all afternoon, Sunshine," he tells me when we finally break apart enough for words. "Let me get a shower and then I was thinking Italian for dinner? How does that sound to you?"

"Okay," I say, as I follow him towards the bathroom, "but, only if I get to join you in the shower."

"I can't think of anything I'd enjoy more, Sunshine," Brian says, waggling his eyebrows at me in an uncharacteristically playful manner. "I'll even wash your back . . . side for you."

And he does. Brian takes the bar of soap as soon as we get in the shower and carefully lathers every millimeter of my skin, moving his hands in small circles starting with my back and shoulders and arms. Then he pulls my back against his chest and moves on to soaping my chest and stomach, then down my sides to my hips and thighs. Next he kneels and keeps going with my legs down my calves and he even carefully washes and rinses my feet. Finally, Brian stands back up and tenderly tips my head back onto his shoulder and washes my hair for me. It seems like such a simple thing, but I've never experienced anything so intimate in my life - the way this man cares for me is the most erotic thing imaginable. 

When I'm satisfactorily clean, and Brian has had sufficient time rutting against my well soaped ass, he fishes a condom out of the basket that is suction cupped to the wall next to the soap dish. He gently pushes me against the glass wall of the shower. I hear the condom packaging ripping. 

"Was one night off enough for your sweet little ass, Sunshine?" Brian murmurs into my ear, his hard cock already rubbing against my crack.

"Yes, Brian. I want you. Please," I manage to moan back.

"Ohhh, Sunshine. You're the perfect cure for a long tedious day of work, you know that?" Brian asks as he slides his dick home into me. "You're all I was thinking about all afternoon. I just wanted to get back home to you and fuck you. You're so damned addictive."

Brian is more than usually talkative tonight. Usually he's all business when it comes to his pleasure - like he's too intent on his task to need or even want conversation. But tonight, he's practically chatty.

"Ohhh. You feel so good, Justin. You're so tight and hot. I always want to be balls deep in you. All the fucking time, Justin," his words act as a counterpoint, matching to the rhythm of his thrusts. "Even now, when I'm inside you, I still want you more. I want all of you. I'll. Never. Get. Enough. Ahhhhh."

Brian obviously needed that pretty badly - he came so fast. I was so distracted by his words that I hadn't even really been concentrating on the sex. But, no worries - Brian doesn't stop even though he's already come. He's still hard and he's still plowing into my ass. He's going to just keep going till I cum, too, it seems. Fuck he's good.

"I know I was too fast, Sunshine," he's still muttering into my ear. "It's your fault though - you're just too fucking hot. But now it's your turn. Tell me how you want it, Justin. What do you want? I want to make you scream it's so good, so tell me what to do. Tell me, Justin."

"Mmmm, Brian," is really all I can think to say at first.

"Tell. Me." Brian demands.

"Harder, Brian. I want it harder," I answer him.

Brian compliantly grabs my hips for leverage and starts slamming into me harder with each thrust. I try to push back using my hands to brace myself against the shower wall. Every time he enters me I can feel him deeper inside me and I want him even more. Each time he pulls out I almost want to cry at my loss. Images of Brian are swimming in my head. He fills me physically as well as suffusing all my senses. And, all the while he keeps slamming into me hard, hard, hard, hard . . . 

Then suddenly it's enough and a wave of pure bliss crashes over me, slamming me against the shower wall as effectively as Brian had been before. "Briannnnn!" I yell out his name. He holds me up when I'm done or I would fall to my knees. All I can do now is pant and shake and wait till my legs work again.

"I've got you," Brian whispers to me. "You're so beautiful, Sunshine. You're fucking perfect. And you're mine. I always want to make you scream my name like that, Justin. Always."