The Intern: An MM Office Romance

by Akeroyd , Serena

  It was way too early for a boner.

  I tried to remind myself of that, especially when the day was going to be long, and probably very boring. But it was too easy for our short time together to flash through my mind.

  It was crazy to think that, this time last week, I hadn’t even known who Devlin Astley was—other than the boss of my boss. He owned a company I was interning for. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Now? He was in my thoughts way too often, filled my stomach, listened to me, kissed like a dream, and, somehow, treated me with more respect than any other person I’d ever met.

  What that said about the people I’d met before him, other than Rachel and Sadie, I wasn’t sure. Either he was special or they were just particularly shitty. Or maybe it was a little of both? He was, after all, unique. To me.

  My first...

  That night, in the dark room, was a blurred jumble of memories thanks to a post-orgasm adrenaline high, as well as the overwhelming anxiety of my first time with a complete stranger—an act that was both terrifying and freeing all at once. I just remembered the sticky heat, the scent of him in my nose, the crisp silk of his hair against my palms, the rough texture of his chin as it scraped over my throat.

  My hands grew sweaty with the memories, and I knew my eyes were glazed as my mind tripped onto the next day, when he’d jacked me off in his office, when I’d slipped to my knees and sucked him off in front of the city itself...

  Around Devlin, I was another person. Someone brave and out there, someone who was so ready to be me that it should be frightening—

  A realization hit me, then.

  If I was another person around Devlin, why shouldn’t he be too?

  That realization was why the first thing that came to me was: Me: How come you can’t say things like that when we’re together?

  His reply wasn’t forthcoming, but I didn’t worry about it this time. Not when I knew he was in a board meeting.

  I’d already switched on my computer as I was eating my cronut, and had started going through my email even as my head was back in the whirl of the past few days. In such a short space of time, my life had gone from nothing but work to thinking about the CEO of Astley Publishing. I wasn’t eager to revert to my old ways. Something about Devlin made me crave more of him. We hadn’t had sex since that first day, so I craved that too, but it was more him.

  I craved the real him.

  Was this awkward version the real him? Or was it a complex mixture of the assertive owner of a progressive publishing company and the nervous man who I’d dined with over the past few evenings?

  Before I could stew much longer, Devlin replied: I’m not looking at you - you make it hard to think.

  My eyes flashed wide at his candor. Me: You really mean that, don’t you?

  Devlin: Haven’t you figured it out yet?

  Me: Figured what out?

  Devlin: You’re the only person who has ever made me feel this way.

  Devlin: I have to go. Enjoy your breakfast... See you at my place tonight?

  Even as I wished that I didn’t learn more about him in a text conversation than in person over dinner, I felt bad too.

  In the limo, he’d said that I made him tongue tied. Did that mean I was the only person who’d ever made him feel like that?

  Me?

  My lips twitched into a smile. It wasn’t a cocky one, wasn’t in anyway big-headed.

  It was pleased.

  Happy.

  If I tied his tongue, then I figured that if I found other things to do with it to keep it occupied, it would unravel over time.

  Because that sounded like a challenge worth taking, worth being patient for, I typed: Me: Looking forward to it.

  And I was.

  More so than was probably wise, but hell, you had to mess up your bed before you could make it again. I just wanted to rumple up the sheets with Devlin.

  Maybe tonight, that would happen... I’d definitely give it my best shot.

  Sixteen

  Micah

  When he pulled me into him the second I made it to his apartment, I wanted to groan with relief.

  Whenever he took charge like this, my bones just wanted to melt, and I saw nothing wrong in falling into him, my arms coming around his shoulders as he tongue-fucked me there. In the doorway. My feet still technically in the corridor while my body was definitely in his apartment.

  His lips ate at me as if he was a starving man, and I felt his pain because, dear God, I needed this. The day had been long, too long, and I’d wanted to bitch slap Cassandra a few times for her attitude, but this was exactly what I needed to start my night.

  The sound of a throat clearing echoed behind me, making me jump as I pulled back away from Devlin to peer into the corridor.

  An elderly woman was watching us, her eyes twinkling as she said, “Devlin? Who’s this charming boy?”

  Devlin practically squirmed beneath a gimlet stare from bright blue eyes, which was one of the most interesting reactions I’d seen from him to date. “He isn’t a boy, Nancy.”

  “No? Well, he looks it to me.”

  “You’re forty years older than me,” Devlin groused. “There’s only sixteen between Micah and me.”

  She held out her hand, the fragile bones shielded by papery skin that was mottled with age, but the way her fingers arched, and from her accent, I knew she expected me to kiss her knuckles.

  Amused, I did as she wished, introducing myself afterward. Her hand scented of expensive perfume, and a couple of thousand dollars’ worth of bracelets tinkled on her too-slender wrist.

  “I’m Nancy Petersen, Micah. I’m Devlin’s next door neighbor.”

  Having imagined that Devlin would be the kind of guy who wasn’t interested in his neighbors, I shot him a look.

  “She’s one of my mother’s friends.”

  “Clarice and I go back a long way,” she confirmed. “I might be ten years older than her, but I can still outlast her at a party.”

  “That’s no feat. Mother’s a notorious lightweight,” Devlin jibed, which had Nancy squinting at him. “I’ll set Chester on you the next time I see you.”

  “You and I both know Chester loves me so that’s no threat.”

  She huffed out a sigh. “I knew I should never have let that animal psychologist have at him.”

  “Chester’s an animal?” I queried, eyes wide.

  “A Pomeranian. Ten pounds of fluff, five pounds of sass, and one pound of body,” was Devlin’s wry retort.

  “He used to have the worst temper, would bite anyone in my vicinity.” She pursed her lips. “I didn’t mind it. What’s the point in having a guard dog if they don’t bite?”

  “Do Pomeranians make good guard dogs?”

  “Well, they do when they bite everyone in sight. A woman has to protect herself, you know.” She fluttered her lashes. “Then, of course, he bit the doorman too many times, and the President of the owners’ association threatened to—” She tossed her hair over her shoulder—a shoulder, I now saw, that was clad in Chanel—and which made me wonder if, back in her day, the thin silvery locks had been a bountiful swell of waves. She was still beautiful, and still as sassy as Chester by the sounds of it. “Well, it isn’t worth repeating. Now Chester’s really rather biddable. It’s quite tedious.”

  “Tedious for you, not for anyone with ankles in the building, Nancy.” To me, he muttered, “Do you want to go in? I just want to have a private word with Nancy.”

  Any amusement I’d found in the idea of a Pomeranian guard dog faded as I recognized what that private conversation would be about.

  Us.

  Primarily, her not telling his mother that she’d seen us kissing.

  Frowning as I headed into the living room where I stared out onto Central Park, I tried not to listen in to the conversation, well aware that it would only piss me off even more. But I heard a tinkling laugh that made my lips curve into a smile, and it eased the burden of my temper when Devlin came stri
ding in a few moments after I heard the front door close.

  He walked over to me, surprising me by resting his hands on my waist, before sliding them down and around my hips as he moved closer to me. Though I was pissed, and hurt, which was stupid because I didn’t know for a fact I’d been the topic of their conversation, I sighed as I rocked my head back against his shoulder.

  “Thank you for being kind.”

  My brows rose. “To Nancy? Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because she’s an interfering old busybody.” He grunted. “But she means well. Her and Mother are quite close. I could have strangled her when she told Nancy the apartment next to me was for sale, though.”

  “I can’t see her cramping your style.”

  “You’d be surprised,” was his rueful retort. “Mostly, she’s in Florida. The weather’s too adverse for her. Too cold in winter and too airless in summer, so I don’t often have to deal with her. It was lucky I saw her, actually. I knew she was leaving within the next few days, but she’s flying into Miami tonight.”

  Lucky? “Why?” I asked, shocked because I’d have thought luck would be the last way he’d describe being caught kissing a guy.

  “After I spoke with Father today, Mother commandeered the call. She wanted me to ask Nancy why she hadn’t been answering her messages.”

  My lips curled inward so that he couldn’t see my smile. “So you were the messenger boy?”

  “Yeah, a high-powered one,” he grumbled with disgust.

  The insight into his nature was too delicious for words. Not only had we managed to talk for a handful of moments without him doing something odd, but he hadn’t spoken with Nancy in an effort to keep me a secret. The night truly was looking up.

  “She seemed sweet.”

  “She’s a pit bull. Don’t let the Southern charm sway you. She took both her husbands to the cleaners. Trust me, they’re not living in Park Avenue penthouses anymore.”

  I laughed. “I could see that from how much Chanel she’s wearing.”

  “Chester’s the only male who’ll put up with her.” He cleared his throat. “She told me to tell you that we’re welcome to kiss on the doorstep anytime she’s around. She enjoyed the show and hopes to see it the next time she’s in town.”

  Chuckling, I replied, “Well, I’m happy that we provided her with decent entertainment.”

  He kissed the side of my jaw, before muttering in my ear, “I prefer the indecent variety.”

  “Me too.” I twisted to look up at him, finding that a heat had overtaken my chest. A warmth that made me feel as if I’d been sitting in the sun.

  He compounded that delicious heat by murmuring, “You might think I’m crazy, especially with how much food is in the fridge—”

  “Why is there so much food in there?”

  He shrugged. “I like variety.”

  “What happens to the stuff you don’t eat?”

  His brow puckered. “It doesn’t go to waste.”

  “Who eats it?”

  “Gian takes it to a local food bank.”

  “You don’t believe in economizing, do you?”

  “I do, just not with food that can serve a purpose elsewhere.”

  I frowned at his wording, which made me wonder if he did it intentionally. That’d be nuts, but Devlin wasn’t exactly normal, was he?

  “Okay, so why might I think you’re crazy?”

  His smile was sheepish. “I’d like to cook for you. A proper meal.”

  My eyes flared wide at that, and something inside me sighed. Something that was right where the heat in my chest had taken root.

  “Really?” I rasped.

  He nodded. “Do you mind? Are you hungry? It will take me a while.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Do you want to?”

  I grinned. “Lead the way.”

  Which was how, even after a long ass, tiring day, we made fresh gnocchi and homemade pesto together.

  I learned that if I kept his hands busy, it freed his mind from any constraints that made him stutter during our conversations, and I saw that, even if he didn’t do it often, cooking was something he enjoyed.

  Tonight wasn’t the date I’d expected, but I should have realized that no date would ever be predictable where Devlin was concerned.

  It was time I started celebrating that instead of worrying about it.

  Yet when he asked me to stay over, I wasn’t sure why, but I refused. I kissed him goodnight with all the passion he stirred in me, so he knew I wasn’t rejecting him, and while the fact I wanted to fuck him was a given, I also wanted to spend time with him.

  Which, tonight? With that warmth in my chest, felt more important than anything else.

  Seventeen

  Devlin

  Two days later

  “Oh fuck,” he rasped, his hands tight in my hair as he held me down, not letting me escape. Not letting me do much else than swallow his cock.

  I groaned around his shaft, my fingers slipping and sliding as I tried to unfasten my zipper, and I hissed out a guttural sigh that had to send exquisite sensations down his dick as I grabbed my shaft.

  Slick with pre-cum, it was easy to jack off, but when he started to pull my hair, tug on it to make me do as he wished, I let him do as he wanted. Loving his confidence and adoring that he wasn’t afraid to take what was his.

  Deepthroating had never been something I appreciated, but with Micah, I loved it. I loved the feeling of letting go, of freedom. I felt like I was liberated and restrained all at once.

  My phone started ringing, but I ignored it. Uncaring that it might be Lizzie or some business associate. I just needed to taste his cum. Needed to feel it spurting down my throat.

  After a shit day, where I felt like death warmed up, I needed this. Needed him. And here he was.

  Thank fuck.

  With one hand on my cock, the other slipping around his balls, I started to toy with them, rubbing them against one another, teasing him even as I sought to drive him higher. His body started to shake, trembling before he began to rock his hips, thrusting up, shoving his cock deeper down my throat, harder, faster, until my eyes watered with the sting, until my gag reflex began to protest, but finally, he exploded.

  The low groan sent tingles down my spine, and I knew I’d come if I wasn’t careful. Having him use my mouth shot me high, and I moaned, mumbling around his dick as he carried on rocking into me, eking out the final moments of pleasure.

  When he let go of me, he slouched back in my chair whereas I surged to my feet and dragged him forward. Positioning him so he was bent over my desk, I leaned down as I spread his ass cheeks apart and tongued him there.

  He rocked up onto tiptoe, a lusty sigh escaping him, one that was redolent with remembered delight, and as I tasted him, I moved down, taking one of his balls into my mouth, nipping him gently before I straightened up.

  I wanted this cherry of his, more than I’d wanted anything in my fucking life.

  Reaching into my desk drawer where a new bottle of lube was stored, I coated myself liberally with it, then squirted some against his ass. Shoving my thumb into his pucker, I watched as he stayed on his tiptoe, his hands plastered against the leather work surface of my desk as he arched his pelvis at my touch.

  “You okay with me not using a condom?”

  He groaned. “Fuck, yeah. Please.”

  My eyes nearly rolled back in my head at the need in his tone. He was so fucking hungry for me…

  Clenching my jaw, I pressed the tip of my dick into his ass, I grunted as the exquisite tightness, the delicious heat of him caressed me as I thrust into him until I was, quite literally, bottoming out.

  A ragged groan escaped me as my head rocked back at the beautiful sensation of him all around me, before I felt him start to fuck me, taking control from me as he pushed back and forth, helping me fuck him. Helping himself as I felt his channel clench down around me. Pressing down on his lower back, I leaned over him, sliding my hands over his an
d slotting my fingers between his own, before I took over.

  I fucked him hard, taking what I needed, giving him what I wanted, what’d I’d craved all day.

  He let out soft moans that fucked with my head, gentle groans that made me want to kiss him so I could swallow them whole.

  Here, when I was inside him or he was inside me, everything made fucking sense.

  It was only every other moment where I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I’d been insane to wait until today to make him mine again—absolutely crazy. After a short text conversation at the end of a crappy day, I’d invited him up here when Sadie had quit for the day, and I’d made good on my promise from the ‘cronut’ incident.

  My thrusts grew short and choppy as I ground my cock into him, rubbing against his prostate had him crying out once more, and I could feel his hard on—the joys of youth—when I leaned down and reached around him.

  His cock was slick from my spit, so I jacked him off in time to my brisk thrusts, loving when he cried out with his second orgasm because his impossibly tight ass morphed into a fucking vise as he clamped down around me.

  I saw bloody stars as I exploded into him, my cum pelting his insides like a geyser as I let off the day’s tensions in his ass.

  My fingers moved to the taut muscles of his glutes, and I shaped them, digging the tips of my fingers in as I enjoyed the view of my dick, pulsing red with blood, close to purple in the aftermath of my orgasm, against the cream of his skin.

  I rocked into him a few more times just because it was so delicious, just because I could, then I pulled back, watching as my cum started to trickle out, making my throbbing cock look even darker with the white purity of my seed coating me.

  Clenching my jaw at the sight, I pulled out fully, keeping his asscheeks apart as I watched the show, and because I couldn’t stop myself, I reached down and tongued him there again, flicking the tip inside, loving his choked cry as I carried on teasing us both.

  When I was done, when every drop was eaten, I pulled back, satisfied, and stared at the wet patch that dripped from my desk.