Hard For My Boss

I’m drawn completely out of my daze, watching as he moves along the perimeter of the office. He couldn’t be farther from me unless he chose to scale the outer windows of the building with a harness and suction cups.

For a moment, I picture exactly that. And it makes me smile. He’d look sexy in a harness with suction cups on his palms.

But then he rounds a corner and is gone for the day.

Just like that.

I remind myself that we agreed to this secretive arrangement. I lift my chin. He told you he wants this, too. Ben looked you in the eye and said he wanted to pursue this thing between you and him.

Just because he doesn’t look at me or acknowledge me or act like I exist at all doesn’t mean anything bad.

I stare back at the screen, trying not to scowl.

Positive or negative?

I narrow my eyes, then mark the comment as negative.

My back is slapped the next instant, scaring the crap out of me. “Buddy! It’s time to go,” comes Elijah’s loud voice. “No workin’ overtime for you. Dinner awaits at Mi Casa De Pizza!”

I snort. “You mean we’re going back to the apartment and ordering Papa John’s.”

“Hell no. You crazy? Dominos all the way.”

“I just have one more page of comments to sift through,” I tell him, “then I’ll meet you out front.”

Elijah sits on the desk by my keyboard. “Yeah, and then you’ll be kept late for some other ‘extracurricular task’. Sure thing. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—”

“Then shame on your choice of pizza. I’ll see you downstairs.”

He punches me in the arm. “I’d better, bro. See ya.” Then he takes off, leaving me to my last handful of work.

In a matter of minutes, the office is eerily quiet, all the other interns and half the staff having gone home. And then there was one. When I finally complete my numbers and turn them in to an uncharacteristically cheery Rebekah, she thanks me, then says, “See you tomorrow, Trevor. Good work today.”

I hesitate before leaving, then ask her, “Why me?”

She blinks and looks up from her computer. “Excuse me?”

I may be riding a wave of coolness lately, but I still cower a bit in her presence. She’s used to cracking the whip on dozens of interns every summer, anyway; she’s got the icy eyes for the job.

“What I mean is, you compliment my work a lot,” I clarify. “And you chose me to sit in on that meeting. And then there was the errand of dropping off the box of files to Mr. Gage’s—”

“Trevor Woodard.”

I jump, lifting my eyebrows with surprise. “S-Sorry. I just—”

“It’s a good thing,” she cuts me off, lowering her glasses to ensure her eyes are on me completely. “And when you have a good thing going, why question it? Accept it.”

I swallow hard, lick my lips, then give her a short nod. If only she realizes how poignant and relevant her words are to me, in more than just the way she intended.

“Thank you, Rebekah.”

“No need for thanks. Just keep doing the good job, and it’ll keep being a good thing. See you tomorrow.” She returns to the computer and clacks away, her long fingernails scraping the keys.

“Tomorrow,” I agree with another nod, and then I’m off.

Halfway out of the building, my phone buzzes. It’s a text:

B

Dinner. My place. 7 PM tomorrow.

Totally appropriate work meeting.

Attire: business casual, or naked.

I bite my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

21

Benjamin likes secrets, too.

Obviously I’ve thrown all logic out of the damned door.

It’s clear that I don’t care what we swore we’d do, or not do. I clearly have no desire to honor a damned thing tonight.

Except my dick.

And my desire for Trevor, a desire I cannot deny myself a second longer.

I hear the buzz that indicates someone is coming up to my floor. I give myself one last glance in the mirror, fixing a strand of hair that’s fallen onto my forehead. I give my shirt a tug, smooth out my jeans, then quickly check my breath.

Of course, Lance watches all of this from the foot of my bed through his unamused, half-lidded eyes.

I smirk and peer over my shoulder at him. “Don’t judge me. I know what you’re thinking over there with your doggy brain, and it’s not going to stop me from inviting Trevor over.”

Lance slaps his snout with his tongue, chomps down with his jowls, and continues to stare at me.

“You’ll get used to him,” I promise my Lance. “You may even start to like him. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a regular guest over. Not since …” And then I can’t think of the last time I ever had anyone over more than once. Have I ever?

There’s a knock at the door.

“Be good,” I warn Lance before departing the room.