I loved cum. Always had. The visuals, the feel of it, the taste of it. Bliss.
If he’d been submissive, I’d have made him lick that up, but he wasn’t. I liked his temperament. Oddly aggressive when needs be, willing to bend over when I urged him to.
I guessed, in that sense, he was like me. Willing to top and bottom without any emotional politics getting in the way.
With the taste of him and me on my lips, I drew him into a standing position, helping support him as I twisted him around so he could rest his ass against the desk, before I joined our mouths. He always froze when I did this, but I didn’t believe in being squeamish. Where was the fun in that?
Slowly, he warmed up as our cocks brushed against the other, as we kissed, tongues caressing, lips loving...
He sighed into me, then pulled back to whisper, “I have to go.”
“Why?”
“I’ll miss my bus.”
“Gian will take you home,” I said dismissively. My fingers dug into his hips. “You can come back to my place again if you want. I won’t be back until later but there’s no reason you can’t relax there.”
I’d made the offer several times this past week, but he always returned to his apartment.
There was, I thought, an irritating irony that I’d never wanted to hang out with a woman before, but they were like shit on my bloody shoes. Impossible to get rid of.
Especially Carolina.
Christ, she’d almost claimed squatter’s rights before I’d tempted her out with a shopping spree the first time we’d fucked. Just one of the many reasons I was glad to be done with her once and for all. One irate phone call a few days ago in Portuguese and she’d deigned to leave me alone.
And tonight? Well, I’d never wanted to sleep with a woman before either, but with him, I wanted nothing more than to wake up with my sheets coated in his scent. His cum, too.
He tensed up, like I thought he would, and before I even had a chance to coerce him, started shaking his head.
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?” I grumbled, letting my arms rest on his shoulders as I tilted my head, dropping pecks on his cheek, his jaw, down to his throat. When he arched his neck to allow me access, I smiled, loving his tactileness, loving how he made me be affectionate.
I’d never really enjoyed kissing before, but with a mouth like his, it’d be a waste not to spend time lip-locked.
“Just because.” His rasped words provided me with no sense of satisfaction, only annoyance.
He’d said that to me one too many times this week.
Just because.
The bitch of it was, he owed me nothing, just like, technically, I owed him nothing.
I didn’t think he was hitting up VICE when he was out of my sight, but who the fuck knew?
I remembered being twenty-two, free from home, free to do whatever the hell I wanted. I’d been an animal. Fucking anything that moved and not giving a shit either.
Who could blame him for going to clubs like VICE and finding someone who could sit and talk to him over a meal? Finding someone who didn’t watch Netflix with all the discomfort of a leopard trying to enjoy some godawful show about the Royal Family.
I’d met a few of them, and they weren’t as bad as all that.
Because I knew he wouldn’t relent, I muttered, “You could still let Gian take you home.”
He peered at me. “You don’t mind?”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I did.” I lathed my tongue over the sinews in his throat, dipping down to that ‘V’ where his scent was pure and strong.
I preferred that.
A man like Micah drew attention, and the New York subway or a bus station weren’t the safest of places.
Yes, I actually cared.
God help me.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever cared about anyone before, not even my parents. Not really. It had taken a cancer diagnosis to even open up to Father, and Mother had been quite happy to shove me off to Nanny after I was born.
It wasn’t that I resented them, because I didn’t. I quite liked them, actually. Mother was cheerful and was a damn good sport when it came to racing horses, and Father, though being a prig at the moment, played a fine game of chess and what he hadn’t learned about toying with the markets wasn’t worth knowing.
But caring about them?
No.
Not particularly.
There was this situation with Robert and Lizzie. I supposed I cared about that, enough to get involved, to be angry with how things were being handled. But there was a difference.
Rhode was triggering an ulcer, maybe an aneurysm, but Micah was triggering all sorts of curious thoughts that often discomforted me.
In a grim bus station, I could imagine him being raped.
Gian, after I’d pumped him for information, had told me that Micah lived in a rough part of Fort George that had me churning with nightmares over his safety.
I wasn’t used to feeling, and it made me act out like a spoiled brat when he didn’t give me what I wanted.
“Devlin?” His hands came to my hair, which his fingers raked through before he rumbled, “You have a meeting. Remember?”
“Fuck ‘em.”
He frowned. “Actually, don’t.”
Well, that perked me right up.
Brightly, sensing that he was jealous, which—God help me, again—made me smile as I traced my fingertip along his bottom lip. “I won’t. You wore me out.”
Staring at him took my breath away, touching him was a thousand times better. He’d started growing the faintest of beards, and it made him impossibly prettier.
If I could, I’d just look at him for hours. Get lost in those eyes for hours.
But that was hardly practical, was it?
Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to mine and murmured, “Until tomorrow.”
I grabbed at his hand. “You can come over tonight.”
He shook his head. “I need some sleep. There’s an important meeting about Twisted Love tomorrow.”
My nose crinkled with annoyance. “About what?”
“He doesn’t like the cover.”
I frowned. “It’s a bit late to be quibbling about that, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t here when the cover was approved, but I think Rhode made the decision and went over his head.”
Mouth tightening, I let go of him, pulling back to zip up his dick first then mine. I gave him a soft squeeze as an apology for moving away so abruptly, then I flopped back into my seat.
I shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t really tell him shit considering his position in the company and Rhode’s, but it was hard not to. Nothing about what I was doing with him was right, per se, but I was Devlin Astley and I was used to doing whatever the fuck I wanted.
Even if I ended up paying heavily down the line.
Everything came at a cost, after all.
“She’s a fucking nightmare,” I rumbled, running my hand through my hair to try to settle it into some semblance of order. I knew he’d have mussed it up, and while I was more than okay with that, I knew my board expected me to look neat and tidy. Partway respectable even if nothing about me was.
“Who is? Rhode?” Micah asked, his eyes wide at my remark.
“You can’t be surprised about that,” I retorted with a frown. “You work with her every day.”
“Oh, I’m not surprised. I just wasn’t sure if anyone knew it apart from the people she works with on a day-to-day basis.”
“You mean upper management?” My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. “The night we met, I’d just gotten out of a meeting with the company’s lawyer about her behavior.”
His gaze flared impossibly wider. “Seriously? What did she do?”
What hadn’t she done?
Unfortunately for me, she was a ‘New York’ Rhode, and that meant her shit stank like gold in this city. She also wielded a lot of power even if she was a sex-hungry tramp.
&nb
sp; I wasn’t averse to the promiscuity.
Only a hypocrite could judge her for that when my track record with women landed roughly around six hook-ups before I got bored of fucking the same snatch. But how she treated those dates said a lot about her. The rumors flew as rumors often did in Manhattan, but very few men were willing to come forward about being date-raped by a woman.
“Legally, I can’t say,” I told him, but I thought he saw my regret at the answer because he didn’t get mad. “Please, be careful around her.”
His head tipped to the side, and from the way he was looking at me, I wondered if he managed to read between the lines.
Although, if he managed that, it’d be a miracle.
Most people weren’t even aware that the combination of Rohypnol and Viagra was even a thing, and that was exactly how it should be. I only knew about it because of Robert, Lizzie’s brother.
“Careful? You think she’d accuse me of something? Harassing her?” His lips twitched. “I’m gay. She’s not exactly my type.”
“Does she know you’re gay?”
He blinked. “I mean, I haven’t hidden it. Neither have I shouted it from the roof tops that I like to take it up the ass.”
Despite myself, I had to laugh. “Funny.”
“I try.” His eyes twinkled, and they were even prettier than usual.
How couldn’t Rhode be entranced by him?
Wasn’t I just as bad?
And I knew him now. He wasn’t just an incredibly beautiful face with an arse that was beyond fuckable. He was intelligent, kind. Gentle and tender-hearted. I’d say he didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but everyone was capable of snapping, and I wasn’t going to paint him as a saint.
Reaching up, I rubbed my forehead where a headache was starting to form. That was probably why I muttered the truth, “She’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen.”
“Is that why Mr. Kirkland keeps visiting your office?” he queried, brow puckering.
“Fucking office gossip,” I grumbled. “God only knows why they think I keep asking you to come up here.”
A smile danced around his lips. “I told them that you were giving me some pointers.”
I snorted. “I’ll give you something, that’s for fucking sure.”
His hand reached out. Placing it on my shoulder, he squeezed me there, his fingers tight and firm, and though it was stupid, the need was too real to avoid. I turned my head to the side and pressed my lips to his wrist, feeling his pulse against the sensitive flesh, hearing his sharply indrawn breath.
Half-expecting him to pull away, I was pleased when he didn’t. Instead, his eyes darkened as he murmured huskily, “I’m only teasing. I’ve only visited you in your office twice.”
“That’s a lot in such a short space of time, especially when I don’t exactly want to give the other interns pointers or anything else,” I countered, but though internally I was wincing, I just shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world if they gossip about us. My reputation is already tarnished. I’m just concerned about yours.”
His brows soared. “Mine? I’m a nobody.”
Candidly, more frank than I was with anyone else, I muttered, “You’re not a nobody to me.”
He swallowed, and it looked like he was trying to swallow around my cock rather than a throat that was penis-free. “Inter-office fraternizing isn’t verboten here, is it?” he rasped. “I mean, Cassandra and Paul are dating. Why couldn’t we?”
His remark had me frowning. “Cassandra? Rhode’s EA? And my Paul? The one who works for Lizzie?” When he nodded, I blurted out, “But I thought he was gay.”
He smiled. “I think your gaydar must be on the blink.”
“Either that or you’ve blended my brain like a smoothie.” I rubbed my brow where the ache was getting worse. “Now I think about it, he told me he was. I primed him for information on you that first morning. Jesus, I’m fucking losing it.”
“I’d take it as a compliment that I’m turning your brain to mush, but you don’t look so happy at the prospect.” He laughed at my grimace, then, in a conversational tone, murmured, “I think she might be pregnant or something. She keeps needing to use the bathroom a lot.”
“Is that why she dumps so much work on you?”
His cheeks flushed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
My brows soared. “The fact you’re capable of handling the load is impressive considering your lack of workplace experience. By the end of this internship, I’ll be able to sign off on the report with glowing praise.
“It’s a good thing you had to sign an NDA when you started working with us. The amount of information passing through your email account would be concerning.”
“Before, you just said you scanned my emails. How deep did that scan go?” he groused, pulling his hand back so he could fold his arms over his chest.
I snorted. “You bet your ass that first day I did. I needed to make sure you didn’t target me at VICE.”
“You walked into my dark room,” he sputtered.
“Crazier things have happened than a CEO being led around by his dick. Especially in this city.” I grimaced. “It’s not exactly public knowledge, nor do I want it to be, that I’ve trawled many a dark room for action in my time.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “As liberal as New York might be, the country is still puritanical enough to vilify me if it came out.”
Micah’s frown was thoughtful. “I never thought about how much you’re putting on the line by seeing me.”
“Why would you?” A sudden flurry of nerves had me licking my lips. “Whatever this is, dating… or more, I don’t want it to stop. Do you?”
Need darkened his eyes, which made me feel infinitely better about opening up the way I did. I kept my cards close to my chest on the regular, and admitting to as much as I had might not seem like a lot in the grand scheme of things but I made a priest’s asshole look like it gaped.
Secretive?
That wasn’t the word.
But Micah did something to me. Maybe it was the open way he looked at me, the way he thought nothing of talking about his family, of how he’d discuss his views on politics and America as a whole, his SoCal upbringing lacing every liberal word he uttered despite a religious upbringing... I listened, like I always did, but maybe it was rubbing off on me.
Since that night at VICE, I’d seen as much of him as I did Lizzie. Well, perhaps that was an overstatement, but in my free time, I’d never hung around someone as much as I did him.
I was soaking up the moments I had with him before he realized I was an emotional Scrooge and went on his merry way.
It wouldn’t take long.
A man like me had nothing to give, and Micah was too young, too free to want to be with someone like that for anything other than a fling.
“I would never do anything to hurt you, Devlin,” Micah assured me, his voice husky again. But something had changed, something I’d said or done made him say, “I-I’ll get Gian to take me to your place.”
It annoyed me how happy that made me. “Really?”
His lips twisted. “Really. I won’t have anything to wear tomorrow.”
“We’re the same height. Your ass is a bit smaller than mine—”
“Is that a complaint?” he teased.
“No, it’s perfectly bitable I assure you,” I retorted with a smirk. “You should be able to wear a suit of mine.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
Despite myself, I had to smile as I reached over and rubbed a hand over his thigh. “I’d get quite a kick out of seeing you all togged up in one of my suits. You weren’t made for Brooks Brothers,” I said dryly.
“Don’t be a snob. We’re not all gazillionaires.”
He said that with such ease, when I knew his circumstances had to hurt. I’d bet, before his father had tossed him out of the family with the warning not to return until he ‘straightened’ himself out, he’d have worn suits like mine.
The lack of regret i
n his voice always surprised me when this topic reared its head, but then, to Micah, I’d quickly learned that freedom was worth more to him than money in the bank.
I tugged on his suit jacket. “I’m sure silk will become you.”
He smiled. “We’ll see tomorrow I guess.”
“We will indeed.” I growled under my breath as I got to my feet and moved into him. He parted his legs, letting me between them, and I pressed my mouth to his, slanting my head to the side as he slipped his arms around my waist and took what I gave him.
The feel of him against me, Jesus, something about it always took my breath away.
This past week had been unanticipated, but I’d enjoyed every unexpected moment of it.
I could never have foreseen that my visiting a dark room would lead to this, but I wasn’t about to complain.
I’d soak this up until he grew bored with what I had to offer, and then I’d return to my usual modus operandi.
Only, when he was done with me, I didn’t think moving on would be as easy as trawling a boring gala for expensive pussy... that was something I’d have to deal with later, though.
For now, his mouth was on mine, our cocks were rubbing up against one another, and he was going to sleep in my bed tonight... life was good.
Eighteen
Micah
“Not this again,” Devlin growled.
“It’s important,” came the snapped retort. “You think I’m happy dying knowing that you haven’t made any arrangements for the future?”
“I don’t want kids, Father.” He sighed, and it was weary. So weary. Like he could just take a nap and sleep for a hundred years. Was it just me, or was his voice raspier? “How many times do I have to tell you?”
No, he definitely sounded rusty.
“You have a duty to the Astley line, Devlin. You can’t just ignore it.”
“I don’t want to argue. I have enough shit on my plate right now without talking about something that’s fait accompli. When you die, I’ll inherit. And when I die, someone else will get it. It’s entailed for a reason. There are always career bachelors in every line.”
“Not ours,” was his father’s snarled reply.
The Intern: An MM Office Romance Page 13
