by Hunter Frost
From my angle I could see the side of his Italian leather shoes and a sliver of the bottom. Heaven help me.
My mind flashed back to being inches away from those feet only minutes ago after my embarrassing header onto the floor.
Why did I have to have a crush on my boss and a foot fetish? Me, the geek in the back row who already had a difficult time with social situations?
And now a hard-on.
I took a breath. Judging by those shoes, he probably wore a size twelve narrow. And he probably had high arches and long slender toes—the kind that begged to be sucked.
Shit.
What was I doing?
Okay, chill. “It looks like I need to uninstall and then reinstall NetStar. Your update must’ve corrupted, causing all these errors. It should only take about ten minutes.”
“Gracias, mi amigo. I knew you’d have a solution.”
I smiled. “Don’t thank me until it’s fixed.”
“I’d still thank you for your time and effort, El.”
My cheeks burned. He could be sweet when he wanted. And here I was daydreaming about his feet. But I couldn’t avoid them, right there, the burgundy leather with black soles taunting me. The type of shoes you’d only see in those specialty catalogues from expensive European shops. For as much as I liked feet, it was hard to keep track of all the styles of footwear besides the basics—dress shoes, tennis shoes, slippers, flip-flops—you get the idea.
But socks, I knew my socks. You could blindfold me and I’d guess any type by feel.
I thought I might die if I ever saw Alejandro’s feet in socks. Or . . . bare.
I shivered.
Alejandro sighed as he played on his phone, swiping left and right.
I initiated the uninstall as he spoke. “You have plans for the weekend, El?”
I did love it when he called me El. It felt familiar and intimate, like a pet name.
“Tomorrow is my parents’ anniversary. We’re going to dinner with them. I mean, Naomi and her husband and me.”
“Right, Naomi’s husband. Henry, is it?”
I nodded.
“He’s pretty hot for a straight guy. Even with the dad bod. I remember him from last year’s Christmas party.”
I shrugged. “I guess he’s okay.”
“You get along with your family pretty well? Besides Naomi being a pain in the ass, of course.”
I smirked. He wasn’t wrong about Naomi. “I do. My parents have always been supportive of me and Naomi. And she can be a good sister when she wants to be. I know she’s always got my back when it’s important.”
“That’s great.” Alejandro’s expression seemed almost wistful.
“And I like Henry.” I continued. “He treats Naomi like a princess, respects my parents, and tries hard with me.”
“Tries?”
“He’s quite outgoing, and obviously, I’m not the most social person. It’s tough for us to read one another. But I can tell he works hard to get along with me.”
“That’s reasonable. But I doubt he faults you for being an introvert. That’s your way.” He looked over at me and shrugged. “Just my two cents.”
I sighed at how easily Alejandro understood me. “We’re going to Kin Khao.”
“Oh, I love Thai,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Kin Khao is top notch. I’ve taken some great guys there on dates.”
A sad trombone played in my head. “Nice,” I replied. As much as I wanted to connect with him on some level, that was short-lived. There was no way I’d ever be one of those dates he had Thai food with. “You have plans this weekend?” I asked quickly to cover any disappointment in my voice.
He gave me a sly smile that jump-started my heart again. “You know it.” He took his feet down and stood. “I met a guy on Tuesday at OMG, that club on Sixth Street, and we’re going out tonight. He’s a babe. I mean look at his photo.” He walked over before I could protest.
I leaned back a little as he got in close to show me the photograph on the phone. I closed my eyes for a second, willing myself not to smell him.
“Total hottie, si?” he asked, shaking his head in obvious disbelief at his luck. Heaven knows why? Alejandro could get any man he wanted.
“Absolutely,” I said, looking more at Alejandro than the photo of a blatantly drunk guy about my age with arms the size of canons and a bubble butt that defied gravity.
And as different from me as you could possibly get.
Alejandro waggled his eyebrows and spun around back to the sofa. “It’s about time to get out of here. Have you started the reinstall yet?”
“Yep. Two more minutes and you should be good to go.”
“Maravilloso.” He pulled on his coat. “Nothing else happening for you this weekend besides the anniversary dinner? No hot dates?”
I shook my head.
“Boooooo.” He turned his thumb down. “Why not? You’re a cutie.”
Wait. Alejandro Rios, Spanish sex god, thought I was cute? Commencing melt down. In three. Two.
“I’m sure there are plenty of dating sites, like Grindr, but you know, for guys into geeks.”
Meltdown aborted. For guys into geeks. I’m a geek. And Alejandro Rios isn’t into geeks.
“Right, uh-huh.” I jumped up. “Hey, the reinstall finished and it’s fixed. Enjoy your weekend.” I rushed toward the door. My chest ached and I had difficulty breathing. I needed to get out of there.
“Oh.” I could hear the confusion in his voice. He called after me, “Thanks, you t—” But the door closed before he could finish.
Chapter Two
Alejandro
My office door slammed shut.
Odd.
Ellison took off as if something had spooked him. Or pissed him off. Or something . . . He was difficult to read. Was it something I said? Could I have offended him when I talked about finding a date? I knew, as his boss, discussing his love life was probably a no-no. But it was El. He knew I meant well, right? I was just trying to help.
I liked Ellison. He was sweet, cute, and fun to joke around with. If our working circumstances were different, I might’ve asked him out. But he was so shy . . . and innocent, and genuinely nice.
I wouldn’t want to hurt him. And there was no doubt I would.
My longest relationships were friends with benefits. And I wasn’t even sure I could call them real friends. Fuck buddies, maybe? Otherwise, I preferred one-and-dones.
Life’s too short to be stuck with one guy.
Even if things did seem pretty stale lately. I couldn’t comprehend how I could be bored when I lived my dream life—looking fine, partying every other night, and hooking up with smokin’ hot dudes. It didn’t make any sense.
I looked down at my phone, at the photo of Rex, or was it Reggie? Rick? Whatever the hombre guapo’s name was . . . I needed to run home and change.
As I wrapped my scarf around my neck, I saw the iPad on my desk. Mine was in my bag.
I picked it up, and it flashed a background screen of some anime cartoon.
El’s.
And suddenly it slid out of my hands. I fumbled to grab it, touching the screen in the process. “Ay!” It landed on the floor, screen side down.
“Shit.” Please don’t let the screen be cracked.
I reached for it as strange sounds burst forth—grunting, panting, slurping . . . and an “Oh yeah, that feels so good.”
I knew what that was instantly.
Porn!
I flipped it over to find a video clip playing. But to say it wasn’t what I expected to see was an understatement.
A buff dude in a suit sat at his desk with his cock out, stroking it like mad as his bare feet and toes were licked and sucked by a young office mate.
Office porn; a favorite of mine.
But what was with the feet?
And why didn’t he have the screen locked? For a Director of IT, shouldn’t he be more careful? Then again, I could’ve done something as it fell, knowing my bad l
uck when it came to technology. I’d been known to do much worse.
I panicked and pressed pause. I couldn’t watch this. This was El’s iPad and his private stash. Porn or not, I shouldn’t be ogling his masturbation material.
So, El was into this? Huh. I never would’ve thought he was this kinky in a million years.
I should close the screen and leave it alone.
But now all I could see were those two men, one in absolute ecstasy as the other kissed, licked, and sucked his feet. I felt my dick stirring in my pants. What was that about? I’d never been into feet.
And yet, innocent, shy, and sweet El . . . jacking off to this? Maybe I was missing something. What would be the harm in watching it?
I glanced down at the iPad and hit the play button before I could talk myself out of it. I slid the progress bar of the clip back to the beginning. I wanted to see how this whole thing started.
I leaned back in my chair and eagerly watched as the buff dude, apparently some kind of big boss, judging by the shiny name plate on his desk and the massive gold watch on his wrist, yelled at someone over the phone. The buff dude slammed down the phone and ran his hands through his hair and over his face like he was upset.
That’s when the young guy walked in, accompanied by the cheesy porn music. The young guy called the buff dude sir and asked him if he wanted to see the notes from the meeting he attended in his stead. He had to be the buff dude’s personal assistant.
The buff dude barked something at the PA, and the young guy looked confused and asked if everything was okay. The buff dude said no and apologized for being rude. Well, that was nice of him.
The acting was dreadful, of course, but porn didn’t demand much in the way of dialogue or realistic dramatic action to get someone off. I should know.
The young guy said he could tell the boss was stressed and offered a foot massage. Since when did PAs give foot massages?
The boss turned to lean back in his chair, putting his feet up on the nearby ottoman.
The PA knelt down in front of the ottoman, showing a nice perky ass to the camera. Then he started taking off the boss’s shoes to slowly reveal his huge sheer-stockinged feet. The PA already had a major tent in his pants as he started massaging the boss’s soles.
The boss was loving it, groaning and leaning further back in his chair.
I was sure it felt damn good. I couldn’t recall the last time I had a foot massage. I bet it felt awesome.
Then the boss ordered the PA to take off his socks, and the PA reached up the boss’s trouser legs and peeled the stockings off slowly and sensually, teasing him.
My cock took more notice.
I put myself in the boss’s chair, Ellison down by my feet like the PA. I could see Ellison shyly pulling off my socks, his hands trembling.
The boss demanded the PA worship his feet, which apparently meant all that sweet sucking, licking, kissing, and nibbling. And boy, did that PA do as he was told.
Fuck if I didn’t get turned on enough that I wanted to pull my own cock out and stroke myself, just as the boss did. It was getting me hot knowing that the PA was enjoying every minute of his mouth on the boss’s sizable soles.
I could imagine how Ellison’s mouth would feel on my bare feet, his lips and tongue finding spots that hadn’t been touched by anyone else. Virgin skin. I bet it was sensitive. I wondered if I’d be ticklish. The newness of it drove me wild with curiosity.
The PA sucked the boss’s big toe, and I was back where I had accidentally started the clip during the iPad’s fall. The boss stroked himself faster and harder as if he were about to explode. He ordered the PA to stand next to him and come with him. The PA quickly dropped his pants and started jerking, pulling up the boss’s shirt with his other hand.
After a few sweaty moments of pumping their cocks, they erupted—the boss spilling over his own stomach, and the PA coming on top of that.
Totally kinky.
And fucking hot. Wow.
Of course now, hard as ever, I couldn’t get the vision of Ellison worshipping my feet and absolutely loving it out of my head. I absentmindedly rubbed my cock through my pants.
Could I really be into feet? It had never occurred to me before. I mean, I was always willing to experiment. Or could it be knowing that Ellison liked it? That he was more complex and interesting than I first thought? Seeing this new side to him seemed to ratchet up the attraction that I’d been holding back.
He might be a geek, but that made him even more attractive in my eyes. He had such pale blond hair and dark, stormy blue eyes. He was tall and thin, but lean, not a beanpole. No, he was . . . sexy.
And just thinking about him watching this and getting turned on was making me squirm.
I wanted to do something to get rid of this hard-on, but I’d be late for my date.
With resignation, I stuffed the iPad in my messenger bag and headed out into the night, hoping the cold would temper my erection.
Chapter Three
Ellison
I really should learn to control my emotions. Surely, Alejandro would think something was up after I ran out of his office earlier. I would hate for him to avoid me in order to side step my special brand of awkwardness, but maybe it was for the best. I obviously couldn’t handle being in close quarters with him, and now we were going to be working on this damn website project. I didn’t deserve to be around him acting like a horny kid, or worse, a lovesick fool, going all emo when he proclaimed I wasn’t his type. Duh! I already knew that!
So why did it feel like he ripped my heart out when he’d said it? Could I be that hopeless?
I sat at the end of the dining table, flanked on one side by my sister and Henry, and my parents on the other. Always the odd man out, the fifth wheel in this case; the one without a husband or a boyfriend or even a date. Remember that loneliness? Well right now it was at an all-time high as we celebrated my parents’ forty-second wedding anniversary. They’d been able to find love. Naomi had snagged herself a great guy. Me, not so much. The last time I had a boyfriend was in college. Our lives just grew apart after we graduated. That seemed like forever ago.
My family had finished our meals and had moved on to dessert. George Michael sang “Last Christmas” over the speaker system, and I was drowning my sorrows in a second glass of white wine while I picked at a bowl of black rice pudding.
“Ellison, you look down in the dumps. Is everything okay?” My mother patted my hand.
“Just peachy,” I replied.
She considered me for a moment. “You sound forlorn.”
“When was the last time someone used that word, Mom?” Naomi joked. “He’s stressed. He’s got to have a brand-spanking-new website ready to reveal in—” She looked up as she counted in her head. “—about three weeks.”
“That’s awfully tight and right in the middle of the holidays. What is that boss of yours thinking?” Dad asked.
“He’s thinking about his business.” I shrugged. “That’s corporate life today, Dad. Go. Go. Go.”
“Sounds like a heart attack in the making,” he replied.
“I can handle it. I know how to decompress.”
“With cartoons,” Naomi said under her breath, chuckling.
I shook my head. “It’s graphic art! And it keeps me sane. Besides, it’s a fairly tame vice considering. I don’t overeat, do drugs, or drink. Which is why I’m tipsy after only two glasses of wine!”
“You’re tipsy because you’re skin and bones,” Mom added.
What was this, Gang-Up-On-Ellison Day? “I’m my ideal weight, thank you very much.”
“I wish I was as trim as you,” Henry added. “Marriage has me gaining weight like there’s no tomorrow.” He eyed my dessert. “You going to finish that?”
I laughed. At least Henry was on my side. I pushed my bowl toward him. “Be my guest.”
Naomi harrumphed and poked his gut. “Don’t go blaming me for this.”
“How can I help it when you cook
such delicious meals for me?” Henry asked. He was smooth all right.
Naomi and my mother gave him doe eyes. Then Henry kissed my sister with a mouthful of pudding.
Ugh.
My mother glanced at my reaction and gave me a pointed look.
“You know, Delores’s son moved back to town last month for work. He’s single.”
“Mother, we talked about this. No more setups.”
The last one ended with me hyperventilating on stage at an interactive theater performance. We don’t talk about it.
Naomi put her hand up in my face. “Don’t protest yet. Delores’s son is Devin Chase. Remember that beefcake from high school?”
I blinked wildly. “Devin Chase? The class president and captain of the volleyball team? He’s gay?”
“I’ve told you this before, Ellison,” my mom said.
“You did? I guess I never put two and two together.” Devin Chase had been everyone’s wet dream back in high school, both girls’ and boys’. “I bet he’s fat and bald, right?”
“Hold on.” Mom pulled her phone out of her purse and scrolled. “Here, look at this.”
Naomi snatched the phone away before I could take it. “Whoa, come to mama, hot snack!”
“Hey!” Henry said, offended, then Naomi showed him the photo. “Oh, sheesh. Yeah, you need to go out with this dude, Ellison.”
“Can I please see it now?” I asked, and they finally passed the phone to me.
It was a good thing I wasn’t eating or drinking when I looked at that photo. Naomi and Henry weren’t kidding. He was drop-dead gorgeous, just like in high school. Same emerald-green eyes that now crinkled at the sides when he flashed that stunning dimpled grin. The sweater he wore showed off his built chest, and he still had that full head of chestnut hair. And completely unattainable for someone like me.
I handed the phone back. “Like he’d ever go out with me. This is just cruel, Mom.”
“He asked about you,” she said without missing a beat.
“What?” Naomi and I said in unison.
Mom dabbed her mouth with her napkin in her most nonchalant manner. “Delores mentioned to him that you were my son, and he asked how you were and what you were up to. After she told him, he asked if you were seeing anyone.”
