Page 48 of Played
And I wish that having him relieve my bad mood by asking him to relieve me wasn’t the first thing that popped into my head when he sauntered into my office. Pretty sure yesterday’s mutual masturbation isn’t helping the whole situation. Also sure it was a violation of at least one health and safety policy. And if it wasn’t, then we should probably write some. I can see the fine print now:Senior management will absolutely not administer handjobs to—or receive handjobs from—their employees or any contractors.
He drops into the seat across from me, brow furrowed. “You wanted to see me?”
“I want some answers. Who is our fucking leak?”
He clears his throat. “I’m working on it. You have over four hundred employees. If you want this done discreetly, then it’sgoing to take time. You know how difficult it is to hack into someone’s personal emails?”
“You’re hacking into people’s personal emails?”
His scowl deepens. “You think they’re gonna be stupid enough to sell company secrets using their work ones? Of course I started with those, because I do my due diligence. But that’s not where I’m going to find the answers and we both know it.”
I screw my eyes shut. “How about you don’t tell me about your highly unethical methods and just find me my leak? That way I can claim ignorance when one of our employees sues us for violation of privacy.”
He laughs, dark and dangerous. “You seriously underestimate me if you think anyone will ever detect my methods, Mr. James.”
My eyes snap open and I scowl. “Mr. James? Seriously?”
He smirks. “Thought that might be more appropriate when you’re chewing me out for not doing my job. Something piss you off this morning?”
I push my chair back and begin to pace. I need to move. To think. To do something to sate this constant feeling of being on edge. “An article about Astyn Bartley taking the AI world by storm,” I grumble.
“Ah, that’ll do it.” He jumps up from his seat and walks toward me, stopping my pacing. “I promise I’ll find your leak. I promise I’ll get you the evidence you need to bury Bartley if that’s what you want to do. I know you don’t trust me on a lot of things, but please trust me on that.” He sounds sincere. Sincere and concerned, and I wish that the sound of his voice alone didn’t have the power to soothe me. But fuck, it does. Soothe and ignite.
I take a half step closer so we’re within touching distance. Kissing distance.
He glides his hands inside my suit jacket, and his fingers dig into my waist as he pulls me closer. “Do you trust me?”
I swallow, need already working its way through my veins. “About that, yeah.”
“And what’s it going to take for you to trust me enough to let me fuck you again?”
Keep talking to me like that, and trust won’t matter. I chew on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying that out loud. But the truth is the other night at my apartment was incredible. Doesn’t mean I want to open up all those old wounds and be his submissive little fuck toy again though. Hell no.
“What if I tell you that’s never going to happen, Hotshot.”
He glances down and smirks. “No? You wanna tell your dick that?”
“Well, my dick is a fucking idiot. I mean it. Not a single brain cell in his head.”
“Don’t insult him like that.” He trails the fingertips of his right hand over my zipper. “He’s sensitive.”
“He’s a jerk. Seriously.”
King’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. Predictably, my slutty idiot dick stiffens, and I picture King’s tongue running over the crown, licking the precum I can feel collecting there. “Quit playing games with me and let me fuck you,” he says.
“This all feels very one-sided,” I argue. “Surely there has to be a little give and take.”
His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. We’ve been doing this dance for far too long, and he wants it as much as I do. He swallows. “What kind of give and take are we talking about, Mase?”
Mase? I bite on my own lip to stop myself from groaning. Plenty of people call me that, but the way he says it… Fuck, it does something to me. Something feral. How far can I push him? “Suck my cock. Then I’ll let you fuck me again.”
His pupils grow larger, and his breath hitches in his throat. God, I fucking love having him on the back foot for once. I narrow my eyes, drinking in every slight change in his usually confident expression. “You do still suck cock, right?” He was never seriously into it when we dated back in high school, but he did it. And he was damn good at it too.
Moving tantalizingly slow, his tongue runs over his lips. The wicked glint in his eyes and his veneer of confidence, bordering on downright arrogance, are firmly back in place. “Better than anyone else you’ve ever had.”
“That’s quite the claim to make.”
He tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing me. Testing me. “Not a claim. More like a promise.”
