Page 9 of His Boss for Christmas

Fuck. He should stop. He must stop. He was taking it too far. He was the boy’s boss and the managing partner of the firm. He couldn’t possibly risk his sterling reputation and career for the chance to stick his cock in his personal associate’s mouth, no matter how good it might feel. It didn’t matter that Justin clearly wanted the same. Their respective positions made any sexual relationship between them impossible without ruining their careers. Justin wouldn’t want to be known as the guy who sucked his boss’s cock in order to be put on a partner track.

“We should stop,” Peter said, his eyes on Justin’s mouth around his thumb.

Justin lifted his heavy-lidded eyes to him. “We should,” he mumbled breathlessly around Peter’s thumb.

“This can’t happen,” Peter said. To his disgust, it didn’t sound as firm it should have.

Get a grip, Hayes.

He removed his thumb from Justin’s mouth.

“Why not?” Justin almost whined, blinking at him dazedly. His lips looked very red. And shiny. They’d look so good around his cock.

“The power imbalance between us is so vast, I can’t initiate anything without being accused of sexual harassment—”

“I wouldn’t!” Justin protested.

“You might not,” Peter said softly. To his surprise and annoyance, he wasn’t really worried about being sued by Justin. He trusted his associate that much, apparently. “But other people would not see it that way. So I can’t touch you. I won’t.”

Justin grabbed Peter’s tie. He pulled him down by his tie until their foreheads pressed together. “No,” he said, inhaling shakily, his pupils dilated. “You can’t do this. I want you. You want me. I can feel it.” Justin’s mouth touched his, the touch barely there, his lips trembling. “Peter,” he whispered. “Peter.” And then the kiss became hungrier, deeper, his lips clinging to Peter’s, his tongue shoving into Peter’s mouth clumsily, ravenously, as if Justin wanted to consume him, whining, kissing hard, desperate, and needy, curling his fingers around Peter’s tie and trying to pull him closer, standing on his toes to reach him better. “Please. Kiss me—kiss me back—”

And god help him, Peter kissed him. Justin’s moan was loud and shameless, his fingers burying in Peter’s hair as Peter thrust his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deep and hard. Christ, the way Justin opened for him went straight to his cock.

Justin whined in protest when Peter broke the kiss. “No…”

Peter gazed into his associate’s glazed eyes, his cock so hard he could barely think. “We should stop,” he said hoarsely,stroking Justin’s shiny, kiss-swollen bottom lip with his thumb. He was so, so fucking hot. “We’re at work.”

“Right,” Justin said dazedly, staring at Peter’s mouth, before leaning in for more kisses.

Peter found himself indulging him—couldn’t not indulge him, powerless against the desire that consumed them both. They were clinging to each other, lips and bodies, making out like teenagers, gasping and groaning, until the shrill sound of the phone finally penetrated the fog of lust clouding Peter’s brain.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing Justin away and all but jumping back from him. He turned around and took a deep breath and then another, loosening his tie. He felt hot and breathless. “Get out.”

“Peter—”

“Out.” He regretted the coldness of his tone, but there was no other choice. He had to get Justin away from him before he ended up fucking asecond-year associateat their workplace. Jesus. What had he been thinking?

“Didn’t take you for a coward.”

Peter went rigid. “You’re forgetting yourself,” he ground out. “I’m still your boss.”

“You’re the asshole who just had his tongue down my throat and is now trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I felt your erection against mine, Peter. You can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Peter turned around and stared him down. “This is my own fault, I guess. For letting an associate have an attitude like that with the managing partner. Anyone else would have already fired you—years ago.”

Justin rubbed his red, wet lips with the back of his hand, his eyes glistening. “Guess what? You don’t have to worry about my attitude anymore.” His lips twisting, he said with relish, “Find yourself another personal slave. I’ll return to my cubicle, Mr. Hayes.” He stormed out before Peter could say anything, the door slamming shut after him.

Peter leaned back heavily against his desk and sighed, looking at the door unseeingly. There was a tight feeling in his chest, almost like panic.

His phone chimed with a message.

It was probably the security guy messaging him with the names of his potential soulmates.

Peter didn’t open the message. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t give a damn about his supposed soulmate anymore.

He wanted his associate back.

He had to get him back.

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