Page 19 of Loving Leo

“I mean it. You better not be getting off in my bathroom,” he growls and I gasp, arching my hips up to shuttle my cock between my enclosed fist.

“I would never do that,” I reply and then groan when he pushes the door open. It creaks lowly and our eyes meet in the mirror. He’s off camera, but I know everyone will know what’s happening.

That the boss just entered the bathroom and is watching me.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he says lowly, his eyes moving from mine to my hand which is currently moving up and down my cock slowly.

It wants to drag this out, wants to enjoy it.

I on the other hand can feel the urgency of this. I need to get this scene over and done with.

“I need this,” I say, implying that I need the money from this shoot, but my dick is also chanting that it needs to come.

To please let us finish.

“Fuck, you have no respect, do you?”

“Getting off in here is the highest of honors…”

“Just—hurry up,” he says and then takes a step back, his hand on the doorknob as if he’s getting ready to run.

“You don’t have to leave,” I say, my hand stilling on my length. “I think I’d like it if you’d stay.”

He doesn’t know what to do with that. He pauses for far too long, seconds seem to draw into minutes, to hours. And then suddenly he replies.

“Get on with it then. The sooner you’re done, the sooner I can go home.”

I nod and get back to work, my dry hand moving up and down my dick. But it wants more. It’s getting picky. Damn thing.

“Can you get me my lube from my bag?”

His eyes narrow. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“No…I just…I was in a hurry and now my dick is protesting.”

His lips twitch slightly and then he disappears, leaving me to slump against the wall and face the camera once more.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whisper and then jump when Heath makes a sudden appearance.

“I can’t either. Here,” he says and our fingers brush as he hands me the bottle.

I fumble with it, trying to uncap it with one hand, usually much more suave than this, but having him here watching me is making me nervous.

“Here,” he says, stepping toward me and wrenching the bottle from my useless fingers.

He uncaps it and then dribbles some on my dick, making me gasp.

“Alright, get to it,” he says. “It’s late and I have shit to do.”

I nod, not able to wrench my eyes away from him. He’s standing against the door, his arms folded across his chest, his mouth pulled into a thin line. He’s mad at me, upset I’m doing this in his office bathroom, that I managed to sneak around all his uptight rules and he’s found himself entwined in it.

In me.

“Can you unbutton your shirt a little?” I ask and he growls at me.

“You’re pushing your luck.”

I nod and smile, trying not to laugh nervously.

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