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</div></div><br/><section class="sv-fieldset sv-fieldset--bcenter" style="max-width: 450px;">
<header>SUSHI LUNCH</header>
<div class="sv-fieldset--content">
<div style="text-align: justify"><span style="font-size: 12px">Kirk's intense eyes of hazel hue watched Keira removed -- one might even describe it as an 'extraction' -- herself from the couch, doing as directed. His eyes locked onto her ass as she walked to the door, the sight of her stocking legs perpetually in his vision, the man finding himself unable to push lewd and lustful thoughts from his mind at the sight. He swallowed quietly in a guarded moment of vulnerability, a moment of recovery from the alluring and romantically-oriented conversation they <i>almost</i> had. <br/>
<br/>
Yes, he'd admonished her -- and rightfully so; but his rebuke was simultaneously an invitation -- he provided a roadmap to acceptable seduction that cut through the mysterious haze of mixed signals and second-guessing. Women loved attention -- as a rule -- but somehow men were at fault for initiating the next logical steps. His mandate was clear: don't start what you don't want to finish. Trite, flirty moment would be lost between them, which he had to enforce in order to avoid being a hypocrite. But, that meant that any sexual chemistry that developed would proceed with the understanding that a mutual union with him inside of her would be the outcome. For a man who thrived in clear results, it was the best situation from his perspective. <br/>
<br/>
Still, Kirk came to regard Keira as a woman who harbored conflict; she appeared to not be entirely sure <i>what</i> she wanted. Being engaged normally implied that decisions and inner peace had been attained, and while Kirk knew that he was one debonair and dashing son of a bitch, he was not so arrogant to think that he could dislodge a firm pre-nuptual relationship in only two weeks. <br/>
<br/>
That meant that Keira had brought disappointment in her personal life with her before meeting Kirk. <br/>
<br/>
The CEO found the possibility of internal doubt intriguing, and the question that remained was Kirk's conduct with regard to that suspicion. The rake that Keira had not had the pleasure of familiarizing herself with would have pressed the advantage and brought her to his bed by promising her every dream finding blissful fulfillment. It would hardly be his fault if her pre-marital situation was akin to a house of card, only requiring the faintest of breath that had it collapse from an inherently flawed foundation.<br/>
<br/>
But the old Kirk would have wooed her then dumped her; he couldn't ... do that with Keira. She held some power over him that -- whether through kindness or naivety -- seemed wholly unaware of. Perhaps the leg-rubbing incident under the meeting table was more of  sub-conscious exertion of that power. That and unknowingly sending a signal to save her from an abysmally boring and unfulfilling life. Kirk would never have considered himself to be a 'white knight' but in this instance, he could definitely make an exception.<br/>
<br/>
Keira would find Kirk already standing when she delivered his tray of sushi. His hand took the tray, their fingers grazing as he smiled knowingly ... then turned from her and made his way to his chair. He could only assume with her own batch of sushi aside to physically remove herself from the couch ... from HIM. But, he'd deny her what strategy she employed to shore up the shaky illusion of happiness; Kirk didn't feel that this Simon was necessarily a bad person, simply unworthy of the woman who was far out of his league. <br/>
<br/>
Kirk's path veers with easy poise toward the tray that Keira had set aside for herself. He smiled to himself as he gazed down upon it, clear plastic lid still intact. "These look delicious," he commented. Then, calmly removing the lid, he sampled one -- bringing it up to his mouth and taking it whole, chewing it as he returned to his chair in a statement of work formality. "And, they're as good as they look," he said, words muffled by one eight of Keira's lunch.<br/>
<br/>
Partaking without asking felt right, demonstrating that no matter what she thought or said, she belonged to him. Kirk placed his own order of sushi -- three strips of salmon slices on rice, and an eel maki roll -- near her tray. "Feel free to help yourself," he offered with apparent magnanimity; he took without asking, but asked her to take from a position of 'generosity'. Such was the behavior of an executive to believed in demonstrating superiority rather than droning on about it. <br/>
<br/>
The question she asked only gave Kirk more of an opportunity to impose his will upon her. He listened as he savored his assistant's choice of lunch, speaking only after having swallowed.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a good question, actually," he began. "The short answer is Black Tie, which will require you to be wearing a gown." His eyes narrowed in scrutinizing examination as his gaze met hers, his voice unchanged. "Do you own one? If not, you'll need to buy one. I'll pay for it and write it off as a business expense." He sat back, picking up his bamboo chopsticks and mixing wasabi into a pool of soy sauce. Kirk half smirked at the Japanese <i>faux pas</i> of mixing the two -- <i>wasabi joyu</i> is a violation of etiquette, as both are intended to be enjoyed separately. <i>Much like our professional / personal lives</i>, he mused at the irony. However, Kirk chose to abide by only those decrees and mores he found useful -- that <b>he decided</b> were worth voluntarily confining himself with. The man happened to enjoy the taste of them combined, as his eyes enjoyed the idea of his auburn-haired assistant attending to both his professional and sexual needs on a minute by minute basis.<br/>
<br/>
"The long answer," he proceeded, "is that this gala is not casual in nature. It's a chance for the upper echelon of the company -- along with the board of directors and key shareholders -- to mingle and practice minor brinkmanship," he explained. Kirk leaned forward, his tone gaining an earnest and severe gravity. "There will be drinks and conversation with co-workers, and you can indulge in both to your heart's content. But, I'm going to need you to be my wife while we're there." <br/>
<br/>
He paused to let the impact of his ambiguous statement settle in, continuing with a hint of a smile. "Many of the old duffers we'll encounter have hired escorts as arm-candy, as a statement of their worth based upon the exquisite beauty of their 'date'. You're -- quite frankly -- the most beautiful woman in this entire building and I need you by my side. That means I need you looking your absolute best." <br/>
<br/>
A slight smile formed as his eyes took on a mischievous quality, knowing he would touch upon a subject and bring it front and center, rather than letting it become 'taboo' between them by virtue of relegated silence. "I need you wearing stockings and lingerie under the gown. I need you to feel the confidence that comes from donning lingerie, and I need the confidence knowing that you are wearing those for me."<br/>
<br/>
The unspoken, admitted requirement was that it was not a family Christmas Gala where Simon could some in his miserable excuse of a suit and look like a decrepit moon compared to Keira -- a blazing, auburn sun of sexual potency. <br/>
<br/>
"Any questions?" he asked, dipping his sushi in his concocted sauce before sitting back and listening to her reaction. <br/>
</span><br/>​</div>
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