The Amateurs Read Online Free PDF

Bennett strolled around the edge of the table. “Don’t want to aggravate that shoulder.”
    “You filling in for Cindi?” His eyes narrow, but no fear in them. The kind of guy who saw the whole world as the help.
    “Let’s talk about who you are.”
    “Who I am? I’m sorry, I don’t understand—”
    “You’re a senior chemist at K&S Laboratories. You guys have a couple of steady contracts supplying medium-sized pharmaceutical companies with organofluorine compounds. Word is you’re likely to be running the place in a couple of years. Some folks might say it’s because you married the boss’s daughter, but I don’t credit that. Best I can tell, you’re a talented scientist.”
    The man’s face went through a series of expressions, his eyebrows raising, then lowering, nostrils flaring, mouth falling slightly open. He looked like he’d been trying to tell a joke but at the last second forgot the punch line.
    “You also have a bit of a naughty streak, don’t you?” Bennett squatted to lower himself eye to eye.
    The guy began to push himself up, saying, “I don’t know who you are or what—”
    Bennett broke his nose.
    “Unnuhhuh!” The man’s eyes went wide with shock, hands flying to cup his face, propping himself on his elbows.
    “Hurts, right? They say that in a fight, you should strike with an open hand, aiming the heel of your palm into your opponent’s nose. Disorienting as hell, the world spins, the pain slows them down. Plus, if you keep your hand at the right angle, a lot of times your fingers will go into their eyes. Why I went with a closed fist that time.”
    Blood was flowing between the man’s fingers—another benefit to a good nose punch, it looked dramatic—and the fear was in him now, that arrogant assumption of control gone. He scrambled backward on the table, the towel slipping off to reveal his bare white ass.
    “Sit still, Doc.” Bennett stood and took the Smith from behind his back.
    The man froze halfway up, flaccid penis dangling, looking for all the world like he was about to take it doggy-style.
    “Good boy.” Bennett reached into his pocket with his left hand, pulled out a handful of pages. He tossed the folded stack on the massage table. “Take a look.”
    For a moment, the man just stared, that prey gaze they all got when you put the screws to them. Then he reached out with a trembling hand and unfolded the papers. First a gasp, then a low moan that dragged on as he moved from photograph to photograph.
    “Walking the wild side, huh? Obviously, black-and-white can’t really demonstrate the full-color glory of the originals. But I think you get the point.”
    The man’s hands were shaking and his face had gone pale. “Where did you . . . ?”
    “You’re too smart to ask things you already know the answer to. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten your little adventure. So why don’t you use that big brain of yours and come up with a better question? There’s really only one.”
    The doctor stared at him, then at the pictures. Slowly he eased himself to a seated position, one hand on his nose, the other covering himself. Helpless to stop his whole world slipping away. Bennett had found that a flair for the dramatic was useful in his line of work. The man wouldn’t have been nearly so cowed sitting behind his desk, wearing a cashmere sweater and tailored slacks. There was a moment of silence, and then, staring at his feet, the man said, “How much do you want?”
    “Right neighborhood, wrong address.”
    “Huh?”
    “Don’t want money.”
    “Then what?”
    “Nothing that will take much time or effort. Just want you to cook me up a little something.” Bennett pulled another piece of paper from his pocket and held it out. Did it purposefully, wondering which hand the guy would use to take it. After a second, the doctor let go of his nose to grab the paper. Better to let blood run down his face from a broken nose than to expose his cock. Bennett chuckled.