Page 62 of Love in Mission City
Now, as I stared at the jammed photocopier, I replayed the man’s anger at being rear-ended. In similar frustration, I kicked the machine. Then I opened the door, checked the inner workings, slammed the door shut, and hit the copy button again.
Nothing. It didn’t—to my dismay—unjam.
“Fucking hell!” I seethed. “There is no paper jam, and could you just copy that goddamn paper?”
No response.
Stupid piece of shit.
“I'm going to put my hand inside your duplicator and rip your guts out..." I was about to kick it again, but Knight entered the room. Deftly, he hurried over and put his leg between mine and the machine. His shin took the brunt of my anger. And, admittedly, my inability to play soccer was on full display as my foot deflected off him with little fanfare.
I glared. “Really? You should’ve just let me—”
He put his hands against my lips. “This is a good-quality machine, Orlando. I don’t fancy spending more money on a new one.”
Part of me wanted to give up, but the more willful part wanted to just destroy the machine. To my surprise, Knight slowly turned me toward the photocopier.
He positioned himself behind me and nuzzled my neck. “Please don’t break my photocopier.”
Shivers ran up and down my spine. All fucking day, I’d been thinking about this. From the moment I woke up hard, to the moment I jerked off in bed thinking of Knight, to the shower where I’d done the same thing, through to our time working in close quarters all day. Truly, I always craved him. And, until today, I hadn’t had a clue he might feel the same way. I whispered, "Do it. Just do what you're thinking about."
Knight stilled, even as he pressed his body against mine.
I could feel both his cock against my ass and his hesitation.
"What? Now?"
“Yes, now. Right fucking now.” I was working off the assumption if he was touching me that he was giving consent. Oh, right. “I consent, Knight. To whatever. And I’ll saynoif itdoesn’t feel good.” But it would. Whatever he did to me would be fucking epic.
He pressed his erection against my crease. “I’m going to fuck you so you can’t walk straight. I’m going to make you come a dozen times.”
Although that sounded great, I thought about chafing and soreness—in all the right places, of course. Even then, I giggled.
He stilled. “What?”
“Well, I love the idea. Although a dozen orgasms? In what span of time are we talking?”
Nipping my earlobe, he grunted. “I suppose we’ve just got the night.”
But we didn’t—not as far as I was concerned. He could take as long as he wanted. Repeat this over and over again. Frankly, I wasn’t certain he could ever slake my desire for him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. And that was saying something. The need to conquer—and be conquered—grew like a fire in my belly. Intense and flaming.
He must’ve known what he was doing to me. My breath hitched as he drew his hand along my hipbone to my crotch, then used his searching hand to unerringly locate my very, very, very interested cock.
I moaned. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Fuck you.” His voice was all gravely and husky.
“You’ve got lube and condoms, right?”
He froze. “Uh, I kind of hoped you might. I don’t carry them in my wallet. Needless to say, I don’t do this.”
“Fuck employees over the copy machine?” I kept my tone light, trying to avoid him hearing my frustration. “I might’ve used my last condom and packet of lube recently.” I groaned. “Too late to run and get some more?” My place was five minutes away, and I kept a substantial stash of lube. I wasn’t big on chafing. Wasn’t into that kind of pain. And Ialwayshad a box of condomsaround. One could never be too careful—or get lucky too often. “Or the gas station. I think the pharmacy’s closed, right? How about the grocery store?” I wanted to grab my phone and check the time, but I’d left it in the conference room.
“Too long. I’m too horny.” Dexterously, he unbuttoned my suit pants, slid down the zipper, then worked his hand into my boxer briefs to snag my cock between his huge fingers.
“Cold,” I yelped, even as he encircled me. I pressed back against his erection, all the while bemoaning the need for protection. He might be negative. Hell, I pretty much had to be since I’d never gone without a rubber, but we both needed to get tested again.
He gripped my cock firmly. “Is this what you want?” He slid his hand up and down my length.
