Page 11 of His Boss for Christmas

He was Peter fucking Hayes. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by making stupid decisions that could ruin his career.

Justin was just his associate. And nothing more.

***

In retrospect, Peter had been a tad too optimistic.

Yes, he had managed to keep his dick out of his associate for two years. But keeping the streak was much harder when he knew how good touching him would feel. When he knew how sweetly Justin would moan and suck on his tongue. How good he would feel in his arms.

Peter did manage to keep his attention on the meeting with the Stanford Group—because he was a professional—but his gaze kept straying to his associate far more often than the situation called for. Thankfully, he didn’t need to speak much. Justin did most of the talking, as usual. He really was the best associate in the firm, smart and eloquent; Peter hadn’t been keeping him around for his pretty face.

Though the pretty face didn’t hurt.

Peter grimaced on the inside. Damn it. If he couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive his associate was during a work meeting, he was in trouble.

“You were distracted,” Justin commented as the door closed after their clients.

“Yes,” Peter murmured, already thinking of possible solutions to the problem.

The obvious one—to get rid of Justin—was out of the question. He didn’t want to get rid of him.

But this kind of distraction was unacceptable in a field where the sharpness of his mind and instincts was paramount.

That left only one solution.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Peter said. “I’ll need to fuck you once to get over this useless attraction.”

Justin blinked at him owlishly before flushing. Like that of all redheads, his blush was very obvious. And pretty. His cheeks were almost as red as his mouth now. “Wow,” he choked out. “That was weird, even for you.”

“Was it,” Peter said, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands on his flat stomach. “It’s distracting me, and I can’t afford distractions.”

“I’m a distraction,” Justin said.

You have no idea, Peter thought grimly, barely resisting the urge to grab his associate and shove him on the desk. “You are. Return to your cubicle and stay away from me. After the workday is over, come up to my penthouse.”

Justin opened his pretty mouth and closed it a few times before huffing and storming out of the office.

Peter made a concentrated effort not to look at his ass.

He failed.

Well, it was a good thing he would get over this soon.

Peter looked at his watch and grimaced.

Not soon enough.

Chapter 7

The day dragged on painfully slowly.

Or perhaps it seemed to drag more than usual because Peter wasn’t used to working alone. More than once, he found himself turning toward the empty couch, a sardonic remark on his lips—and no one to share it with.

It made his mood absolutely foul. Not Justin’s absence in itself—how much Justin’s absence was souring his mood. He told himself there was a difference. If there was, it was elusive.

Finally, his last meeting was over, and Peter left his office a little after nine.

Justin wasn’t in his cubicle. He must have already been waiting for him in the penthouse. He had his own keycard.

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