by Webster, K
“You’re a useless whore like your mother. You fuck whatever benefits you at the time,” he sneers. “If this shit blows up in your face, it affects my job too. This is one of the best firms. I need this partnership and these connections if I want to run for office.”
Always about him.
Fuck the fact that for the first time in my life, I’m happy. There’s something with Dane that I actually want for myself. It’s not fleeting either. I can feel it taking root inside me. If I take the time to nourish it, it could turn into something lasting. Something real.
“Are we done?” I snap. “I feel done.”
With lightning speed, he backhands me. My hands fist, eager to punch him in the face, but I refrain. I glare at him with all the hate I can muster.
“We’re done,” I growl. “Get the hell out of my office.”
He steps back and grabs the paperweight. His arm rears back but before he throws it, the door softly clicks open. Dane steps inside and kicks it shut behind him. He stalks over to my dad and forcefully takes the paperweight from his hand. Dad has the sense to look shamed, and he cowers under Dane’s formidable strength and intimidation.
“Touch my employee again and I’ll sue you fucking dry,” Dane hisses. “I’ll ruin you for this.”
Dad gapes at him in shock before his features twist into a hateful scowl that he shoots my way. But his words are for Dane. “You think fucking my boy is something special, man? He fucks anything with a dick. Now, he’s just fucking you to fuck with me.” Dad’s nostrils flare as though he truly believes his words.
“Chandler,” Dane starts, his words cool and even, “you’re going to leave this office and go back to yours. If I see you step out of line again, you’re out of here. I don’t care what the hell you think it is your son is doing, you leave that for me to worry about. This is my firm, not yours. You have a temporary partnership and it’d do you good to remember that.”
Dad glowers at us both, his jaw clenching with words he desperately seems to want to say.
Dane sets the paperweight down on the desk and then grabs Dad’s tie, wrapping it around his fist. He pulls Dad close to his face. “And man to man,” he bites out. “If you lay one goddamned finger on my boyfriend again, I’ll knock every one of your teeth out.”
Dad’s eyes widen in shock at Dane’s words. Hell, I’m shocked too. Not only did he defend me from my dad’s abuse, but he just fucking claimed me.
“Go,” Dane orders, releasing my father. “Remember what I’ve told you.”
Dad gives him a clipped nod and storms from the office, slamming the door behind him on his way out. As soon as he’s gone, Dane strides over to me and cups my jaw with his strong hand as he surveys the damage.
“What an asshole,” he seethes, anger still flaring in his gray eyes. The storm is waging within them.
“Yeah.”
He kisses my sore lip softly. “I’m sorry.”
I smile. “Don’t be sorry. Things are looking up.”
His mouth slants over mine and I part my lips, eager for another taste of him. I don’t get why I’m so addicted to everything about him. It’s starting to make me lose my mind. Our tongues slide against each other. Hot, slippery, wet. We kiss until we’re both panting and our hard dicks are an annoying problem that can’t easily be solved in my office.
“A couple of drinks to celebrate. Janice was congratulating me on the finalization of our divorce,” he says, his voice hoarse, “So, we’ll have a toast and then I want you naked in my bed.”
I grin at him. “Two drinks, and then I’m tying you to the headboard. I need to reward you for that little show.”
The playfulness in his stare fades as he leans his forehead against mine. “It wasn’t a show, Nick. It was real. All of this is real. And I’ll be damned if I let some pompous prick touch one hair of what’s mine.”
Mine?
The possessive way with which he says the words has me relaxing against him. This time, we kiss softly. Unspoken promises are told in a simple kiss. My lips and tongue say what I can’t seem to articulate.
You’re mine too, Dane.
And fuck if that doesn’t scare the hell out of me.
Ever since Nick and I hooked up at the hotel, I’ve been dying to tell Max about this new revelation. That I’m finally doing what I want. Seeing a guy who turns my world upside and that I’ve never been happier. But then I remember the night from college so clearly. The night I nearly lost my best friend. As we walk in the bar to meet him and his sons-in-law, my stomach is in knots. If it’s anything like that night I let my secret slip, things might go badly.
When I see Max wave from a high-top table, I give him a nod and then look over my shoulder at Nick. He’s scowling and it reminds me so much of August that I let out a chuckle. I make my way over to the table and Max stands to shake my hand, before pulling me in for a hug. At one time, I was truly in love with my best friend and I wasn’t much younger than Nick when my he tore my heart from my chest. It took months and months to repair what I’d nearly broken.
Now, I’m glad we didn’t fuck around. I wouldn’t have Mel. He wouldn’t have the girls. We’d have lived different lives. Probably would have fucked up our friendship in the end. Max is remarried now and happy as hell with Dorian. I’m embarking on something extremely gratifying with Nick. It was better this way.
“Max,” I greet as we pull away. “This is Nick.” I bite my tongue, suddenly hesitant to explain just who Nick is to me. “We work together at the firm.”
Max nods and offers his hand. “Nick.”
Nick shakes it but he only manages a nod. Max, always nice and friendly, releases his hand but doesn’t take offense. He introduces his sons-in-law.
“This is Miles, my oldest daughter Olivia’s husband,” Max says. “And that shifty-eyed asshole over there is Drew. He’s married to my youngest daughter, Soph.”
“Nick Stratton,” Nick says, nodding to both men.
Miles arches a brow and smirks. He’s a suit-wearing prick like the rest of us but the difference is, Miles looks like he’s a damn lumberjack. Wild, dark hair that he barely tames on top of his head. But it’s the beard that says it all. Drew, on the other hand, is the preppy bastard. Khakis and polos are his usual outfits. He’s a physical therapist and dresses like a boring bastard, but he’s hot. Both men are attractive as hell. When I’d been introduced long ago, I’d been unable to keep from checking them out. I shoot Nick a questioning look to see if he finds them good looking too, but his gaze is hard and guarded. I’m not sure what the hell is up with him.
I settle on a barstool beside Max and Nick sits next to me. Miles launches into a story about his club. He owns a sex club downtown. If Nick is surprised by this, he makes no indication. Every time Max laughs or says something, though, he tenses or fists his hand.
Maybe he’s pissed I didn’t introduce him as my lover or boyfriend or whatever the hell we are. But I don’t know what the protocol is for this stuff.
We spend the next hour shooting the shit. Nick chats easily with Miles and Drew, but ignores Max to the best of his ability. Later, I’m going to ask him what his deal is.
“I’m going to take a piss,” Max says before sauntering off.
Nick slides off his stool and stalks after him.
“Guess he had to piss too,” Miles says, shrugging.
Drew snorts. “He’s going to kick his ass.”
I nearly choke on my beer. “What?”
Drew’s brow lifts. “Have you not seen the way your boyfriend has been shooting him death glares all night?”
“He’s your boyfriend?” Miles asks. “I mean, I knew you two were fucking, but—”
“How did you know we’re fucking?” I demand.
Miles laughs. “How close you two sit together. The way you look at each other. My son’s gay, in case you forgot. I’ve been around two guys in love long enough to know what it looks like.”
“We’re not in lov—”
&n
bsp; “But he is your boyfriend, right?” Drew asks, smirking. “This doesn’t seem like a one-night stand. Not with how possessive he is over you. I mean, he’s about to punch your best friend in the teeth.”
“Fuck,” I grunt, hopping off my stool and tearing off toward the bathroom. Miles and Drew bellow with laughter behind me. Fucking assholes.
I storm down the hallway and push into the bathroom. Sure enough, Nick is in Max’s face and Max is glowering at him. Both men are seconds from tearing each other’s heads off.
“Whoa. What the hell did I miss back there?” I demand.
Nick turns his head my way and his nostrils flare with fury. “Your sexuality isn’t some joke or some injustice toward the good fucking judge. It’s you. It’s who you are. And because of him, you were forced to live twenty something years with that bitch.”
“You should pick better friends,” Max snaps my way. “This guy is a real winner.”
I step between them and push Nick away gently.
“Calm down,” I tell him. “You can’t go around shoving people when they piss you off.”
Max grunts in agreement which sets Nick off again.
“And you can’t fucking hit people because they’re gay!” Nick roars at him.
“It was a drunk attempt at a kiss, that never should have happened, decades ago,” Max growls. “How this is any of your business, kid, is beyond me. I don’t know why you told him this shit anyway, Dane. I never told anyone.”
I turn to regard Max. “I thought it was more…”
His jaw clenches. “It wasn’t more. I was clear about that.”
“Because you fucking punched him,” Nick seethes.
Max glares at him until his mind seems to figure out a puzzle and the anger melts away. His green eyes dart my way. “But you’ve been dating women after Janice.”
“I have,” I agree.
His shoulders relax. “So, what the hell is all this about?”
I turn and look at Nick. Beautiful, strong Nick. His neck muscles are ticking and his jaw clenches as he stares down my best friend. I hold my hand out. Nick’s brown eyes fall to my hand and he takes it. Shrugging, I turn to face Max, who stares at me in shock.
“I’m with Nick now.”
He blinks at me. “What?”
I tug Nick closer to me. Nick hangs an arm over my shoulders as if to confirm my words. “I’m his boyfriend,” Nick tells him, his tone smug.
Mr. I Don’t Do Relationships loves that he can throw this in Max’s face. It makes my chest squeeze that he’s so adamant about standing up for me about something that happened forever ago, and then staking his claim over me.
Max frowns at me. “I…” He looks sorry. Like he wants to say it. But he’s still clearly riled by Nick. “I need a drink.” With that, he storms from the bathroom.
Nick slides his arm away and grips my ass. “He needed to know.”
I turn and grip his jaw so I can admire his handsome face. “That I’m gay?”
“That we’re together,” he tells me. “That one homophobic moment in his life sent you in a direction you never wanted to be. He needed to know. That you had to wait this long to finally be fucking happy. As your best friend, he needed to know he set that in motion.”
“I’m a grown man, Nick. My life turned out the way it did because I made certain choices. Max and I had one bad moment for a lifetime of friendship. People make mistakes. I should have never tried to kiss him. But he’s not responsible for my hesitancy to try to be with a man. That’s all on me.” I kiss him on his pouty lips. “It took you to give me the confidence to try.”
He smiles and I want to taste it on my tongue. I kiss him deeper. Eventually, he pulls away to stare intently at me. “We’re doing more than just trying and we’re doing it together.”
I lift a brow in amusement. “And you’re my boyfriend now?”
“I’m sure as fuck not your boy toy,” he retorts, a devilish glint in his eyes.
“Hmm,” I tease. “When you were on your knees earlier in my office, I wasn’t sure.”
He nips at my bottom lip as he grips my dick through my slacks. “I’ll remind you who’s in charge later when I have my dick down your throat and your helpless ass is tied to your bed.”
His wicked smile undoes me.
“Buy me a drink, boss,” I say with a wink.
He smirks. “Now we’re talking.”
“Knock, knock.”
Nick looks up from his paperwork, stressed and tired, but manages a smile for me. “Hey.”
“Merry Christmas.” I toss him a package. “And before you panic, everyone in the office gets one.”
He relaxes in his chair as he opens the box. Everyone gets five-hundred-dollar Visa check cards on Christmas Eve each year. Nick’s not the only one who likes playing Santa.
“What’s your schedule like? Can we cut out of here early?” he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice.
It’s Christmas Eve. I don’t have any clients, and we usually close up around three anyway. We can cut out at noon instead.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here. Eager to shop?” I ask as he stands to collect his coat.
“I know just the place. I need to make a phone call first. Grab your stuff and let’s go,” he orders, grinning.
His joyful attitude is catching and I hurry to my office to grab my things. August’s office is dark. I’m not sure he even made it in today. Chandler is nowhere to be seen. The place is half dead with all the lawyers bailing. I slap Susan’s desk as I round the corner.
“Tell everyone they can go home early. Lock it up and get out of here,” I instruct.
She squeals and starts tapping out an email to everyone. “Merry Christmas, boss!”
I chuckle all the way to my office. My phone has a few texts from Mel, reminding me about tomorrow. As if I’d forget Christmas with my baby girl. I reply back that we’ll be there and that I love her. After I pull on my coat and grab my bag, I find Nick looking hot as hell, standing in the doorway as he rapid-fire texts with someone.
“Should I be jealous?” I tease.
He flashes me an evil grin. “Maybe. The idea of you jealous is actually a turn on.”
I laugh and swat at him on my way out the door. “I don’t need to get jealous to turn you on. You’re pretty easy, babe.”
His snort earns a few glances our way as we walk toward the elevators. “Easy, huh?”
“I had my dick in your mouth within hours of meeting you,” I remind him, loving the way his brown eyes flare with the reminder.
We step inside the elevator and the doors close behind us. I shove him into the corner with my body and then attack his lips. Our kiss is feverish and wild until the elevator dings. Then, the doors open and we pull away. It isn’t until we’re in my Porsche and driving that I finally ask where we’re going.
“We have to make a pit stop by the house to change. Then, it’s off to Target. I have a whole list of presents I have to buy and wrap before four.” His smile is contagious.
“Four, huh? Cutting it a little close, don’t you think? Most people don’t wait until the very last minute on Christmas Eve to start their shopping.”
He turns my way and grips my thigh. “That was Enzo.”
I think of Lorenzo Tauber with his mess of dark, curly hair, perpetual five o’clock shadow, and always hooded hazel eyes. Enzo, someone I’ve dealt with over the years with many of my cases involving children, is someone to definitely be jealous of.
Nick squeezes my thigh and chuckles. “We weren’t making a date. Well, actually, we were. He’s set something up with the foster parents to bring the kids some presents.”
I glance over at Nick and he’s buzzing with excitement. I’ve never seen him so…eager. Like a little kid on Christmas Eve, waiting to sit in Santa’s lap. But in his story, he’s the Santa and he’s trying to save Christmas. My chest aches as I realize Nick makes me feel something deep inside me that’s never existed before. Something strong. Some
thing that grows by the day. Something that will ultimately consume the both of us if we’ll let it.
I’m ready.
I thread my fingers with his. “Let’s do this.”
“Let’s do this,” he agrees.
I’m talking about so much more than tonight.
I’m talking about forever.
The list Enzo sent me was helpful except when it came to the two girls. Sure, I have a sister but I didn’t know where half the shit they wanted was at Target. Luckily, Dane has a daughter and handled that easily. I was in charge of the boys and could have spent a lot more than my gift card on them. When I got to the toy aisle, I thought about everything they don’t have and wanted to buy them the whole store. Dane was gentle but firm when he reminded me we were going off a specific list from their caseworker and needed to stick with it.
Now that we’re on the way to the foster home, I’m nervous. My palms are sweaty and my Santa beard itches my cheeks. I’d worn it into Target and got a couple of squeals from kids doing last-minute shopping with their parents.
“It’s snowing,” Dane says, grinning my way.
“The kids will love that.”
As we drive, Dane reaches over and rests his palm on my thigh. I’d been jittery and my leg was jumping but with his comforting strength warming my thigh, I relax some.
“Nick, I need you to listen,” he rumbles. “No matter what we see there, it’s not our place to intervene. There are laws and as attorneys, we follow them. We’ve been granted a visit by the foster parents, and we’d do best to be respectful while in their home. It’s what’s best for everyone.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “What if they’re assholes?”
“We let the judge determine whether or not the kids are fit to stay there. All we can do is our part. You’re doing more than your part. It’s admirable. However, you can’t let it consume you. I’m sure it’ll be sad, but don’t do anything that you’ll regret later or will impact the kids.” He pats my leg. “With that suit comes great responsibility.” His playful words at the end have me relaxing again.
