He trembled against me. The shudder that ran through him left me feeling fucking ten feet tall. He was getting it. By joves, he was understanding that I wielded the power. I released him, and he didn’t move immediately. His back heaved with the emotions welling up inside him.
Get in that fucking chair. If he didn’t then I’d have to show him how serious I was and tell him to get out. If that happened it would be too bad for both of us. With all his obsessive thoughts of Tate, the blind fool didn’t even see what was in front of him. I could give him everything he wanted from Tate, and more. Not even with Bryan had I felt this surge of desire and the need to possess someone.
Slowly, Gio got to his feet. He completely removed his boxers and went over to the chair I indicated. He hesitated only a fraction of a second before he climbed up onto his knees, burying his face into the arms he folded at the back of the chair.
I couldn’t move. He was beautiful, magnificent in every way— the broad back, sloping shoulders, round ass that was lighter than the rest of his skin. When I realized that I was just staring at him without doing anything, I snapped out of it and approached him. I touched his right shoulder, trailing my fingertips down his spine. I smiled at the goosebumps that rose on his flesh.
“You're beautiful.”
I clamped my mouth shut, but the words were already out before I could stop them. Fucking hell, where had that come from? In the twenty-four years that I had been sexually active, I’d never told a man before that he was beautiful. Just my fucking luck that this happened with a man who was already in love with someone else. Was I surprised? Fuck, no. I had long since given up on life working out for my best interest. I took what I could and made the most of it, and I always ended up destroying beautiful things, or they left me before I could destroy them.
I had long since accepted it was my punishment for that night so long ago, a night I never truly got over.
“Are you done?” Gio asked, raising himself.
I placed a hand in the center of his back and pushed him forward. “Not yet.”
“Fuck,” he muttered and mumbled other things I didn’t quite catch.
Deciding I was only torturing myself, I continued with the inspection of what was about to become my merchandise. I reached his ass and slapped him hard. When he jumped and grunted, I grinned.
“Torso forward, ass out to the edge of the chair.”
He complied. How easy was that? Yet, he had been protesting before. I went down on my haunches and noted he had hair protruding from his crack. He was right that he wasn’t in the habit of being fucked— although I could hardly judge just because of the hair. Some guys liked their men hairy. I didn’t. I liked a clean-shaven boy pussy, especially one as perfect as his. I spread his cheeks, ignored his outraged gasp and nodded, satisfied. His pucker was clenched tight. My excitement mounted at the thought of fucking him.
I stepped back from him. “Get dressed. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
He didn’t look at me but kept his head hung in shame. He didn’t fool me one bit though. As much as he tried to keep his back to me, when he pulled on his pants and shirt, then sat in the chair to put on his shoes his erect cock could not hide. He’d been turned on by my touch which he claimed to despise. My smile turned to a scowl, and I moved away from him to sit behind my desk. If I weren’t careful, he would push me down the hellhole I had crawled out of years ago. I had no intentions of going back down that road.
“We have a deal,” I told him. “Feel free to change your mind anytime. I’ll get in touch with you in a few days.”
Without a word, he took out his wallet and fished for a business card. He placed it on my desk stalked for the office door.
“Gio, take care of the hairy problem back there, will you?” I called out to him. “I like my men clean-shaven. Front and back.”
His answer was to slam the door shut on his way out. I glanced down at the business card in my hand and noticed it advertised an Italian restaurant with Gio as the head chef. Now that was a pleasant surprise. I’d figured him for a businessman since he ran in the same circles as Tate. I decided I preferred him being a chef. It suited him.
“What the fuck do you care, Eardley?” I asked myself and dropped his business card in the organizer on my desk. “Next you’ll be picking out his suit for his wedding with Tate.”
I scowled at the idea. The thought of him being with Rosenbaum sucked. Rosenbaum already had Bryan. Now Gio too. Could I fuck one over Gio and pretend to help him get rid of Bryan while doing nothing of the sort? I was liking the idea more and more to keep him to myself. It wouldn’t be easy though when he was so fixated on Rosenbaum.
But I sure as hell was going to try. There was nothing that excited me more than a challenge, and boy was Gio proving to be that.