Frowning, Nate forced himself to stop the boss-watching—he spent way too much time watching Ferrara and obsessing over his moods. Enough.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket just to have something to do.
The silence stretched.
Was it his imagination or was there really a weird sort of tension in the air?
Chewing on his lip, Nate stared unseeingly at his phone. His friend Ben had once told him that after seeing his cold and unapproachable boss with his dick out in a men’s room, that made him seem like a human and made it easier to talk to him. It was total bullshit, as far as Nate was concerned. Or maybe seeing Ferrara take a leak would have really humanized him. Maybe holding his dick just had a different effect.
A laugh bubbled in his throat, inappropriate and silly. He swallowed it with some difficulty. “So, are we not going to talk about it?” His voice came out cockier than he had intended.
Slowly, Ferrara lifted his gaze to him. “About what?”
Shrugging, Nate smiled crookedly. “About the fact that you tried to scare me into quitting just to prove a point? Sorry, but your dick isn’t that scary. Sir.”
Part of him, the part that was still thinking rationally, told him to shut up and to stop playing with fire. But it was too late.
“Is that so?” Ferrara said in a quiet voice, looking at him unblinkingly.
Nate shivered, gripping his phone hard in his hand. “Yep,” he said. “You really thought making me put a condom on your cock would scare me?” He chuckled, but it sounded too loud and fake even to his own ears. Shut up, idiot, he told himself, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Why was he trying to rile his boss up?
His eyes narrowing slightly, Ferrara regarded him for a moment, something contemplative about his expression. It made Nate nervous.
“You were right,” Ferrara said, looking at him with an unreadable gaze.
Nate blinked, taken aback and wary. “What about?”
“I did need a fuck.”
Nate cleared his throat a little, hoping he didn’t look as weirded out as he felt. Hearing the word “fuck” from Ferrara’s lips seemed almost obscene. He didn’t know why. They were both guys. Guys said the word “fuck” all the time, so often that it lost all meaning. And yet. Hearing it from Ferrara… it was weird.
“Wow, so you actually admit that I was right about something?” Nate said, trying not to show how off-balance he felt.
Ferrara shrugged, leaning back in his chair and loosening his tie a little. His gaze was still fixed on Nate in a manner that made him more nervous by the minute.
“You did have a point: I have a high libido, and I’m less tolerant of idiots when I’m physically frustrated.”
Nate looked pointedly at the seat the senior producer had just vacated. “You weren’t very tolerant just now. Do you need to get laid again?”
Ferrara smiled a little, but his eyes remained serious and contemplative. “Maybe I do.”
Sighing, Nate pulled a face. “Do you want me to message one of your booty calls again?” Fuck, this made him feel like a pimp. How was this his life?
“That may not be necessary.”
Blinking, Nate cocked his head in confusion.
“Come here.”
Slowly, Nate got to his feet and approached his boss.
Ferrara was watching him carefully, his gaze too neutral not to make Nate wary.
“I’ve realized that as my assistant, it’s your duty to assist me with everything,” Ferrara said, and there it was, the devilish, amused glint in his eyes, impossible to hide now. “I don’t need to go through the trouble of finding time for meetings with women when I have my assistant right here.”
Nate glared at him. Really? So this was how the dickhead decided to punish him for not quitting at the sight of his cock? They were playing chicken again?
“Sometimes it’s okay to be wrong, you know,” Nate said. “No one can be right all the time, not even you.”
Ferrara’s gaze remained steady on him. “Get on your knees,” he said softly, his eyes very dark and so damn smug Nate wanted to punch him.
No. There were better ways to wipe that smug expression off Ferrara’s face. The bastard expected him to explode. He thought this was something that would finally make Nate angry enough to quit. He didn’t actually expect Nate to follow the order. Raffaele Ferrara was straight. He was the straightest man Nate had ever met. He fucked more women in a month than Nate had fucked in his entire life.
The best way to outplay him was to do exactly as he said.
“Shouldn’t I lock the door first?” Nate said in his most casual tone.
Ferrara stared at him.
Hiding his triumphant smile, Nate locked the door before returning to his boss and dropping to his knees in front of him.
“I hope hands are enough, because I’m not sucking your cock,” Nate said, his confident tone probably at odds with the way his fingers were shaking as they unbuckled Ferrara’s belt and unzipped his dark pants.