With our inventory audit completed, I don’t have that stress on my plate anymore. And Jay’s not only managed to keep his cool, but he’s become friendly with his co-workers. I like to think he’s chilled out because I’m as good for him as he is for me.
Jay spends most of his free time at my place. I haven’t even seen the house he lives in because he says it’s basically a frat boy’s room. But he’s started bringing clothes over. I made space for him in one of my drawers just two weeks ago—space I hope continues to grow as we spend more time together. We’ve made dinners together and watched a lot of movies. We both have a thing for over-the-top comedies like Zoolander, Anchorman, and The Other Woman. And he’s shown me a few stand-up specials from some of his favorite comedians, so we spend a lot of nights laughing together. Laughing helps scatter those distracting thoughts that come so frequently.
I file a few invoices away in my office, playing catch-up on some things I neglected while we were prepping for the audit. Finally, pieces of my world are falling back into place and moving in a positive direction. Not just with work, but with my life.
Jay and I drove to work separately from my house, and we’ll be driving right back once we’re finished. Then we’ll clean up and mess around. We’ve already agreed to make Chicken Parmesan tonight for dinner. And then the rest of the night will take us where it usually does, back into each other’s arms—back into the bliss that I’ve come to realize can exist for me once again, even if it is hindered slightly by the echoes from my past.
My phone vibrates.
It’s probably a naughty text from him, like ones we’ve exchanged a lot more these days. But it’s a call.
Melanie.
Oh, Melanie.
A knot twists in my gut. Every time she calls, my guilt consumes me.
She hasn’t tried to call since the day Caleb passed.
I don’t feel bad just because she’s trying to reach out to me. I feel bad because I know I shouldn’t be like this. She deserves better than me ignoring her calls. But especially while things are going so well right now, the thought of letting her invite all those awful feelings back into my life horrifies me. It’s what keeps me from responding.
I let her call go to voicemail, as I usually do.
She deserves better than this. I’m a fucking asshole, and I know it. There are a lot of things that I regret, but the way I treat her is the one I regret most. Still, I can’t bring myself to deal with her any more than I can deal with any number of the things from my past.
She leaves another voicemail. I should listen to it. I can’t keep deleting them.
I call to voicemail. “Hey, Reese.” It’s her soft voice. A voice I was so familiar with—one that used to fill me with eagerness and excitement. Now, that voice only conjures up grief and sadness. “I need to talk to you. If you could give me a call back, I would appreciate it.” She sighs. It’s the sigh of a woman who’s tired. The sound she made when she tried to talk to me during those last months when I was with her, when she just couldn’t reach me.
I tell myself I’ll call her back, but it’s a lie. Something will come up. I’ll make up an excuse to avoid it like I always do. This is the sort of avoidance we talk about in group sessions and during my time with Laura, but it isn’t something I’m ready to face. Not while things are going well in my life. Not when, for the first time in so long, I feel like I have a chance at happiness. A chance at moving on. I’ll wait until things settle down and then call her. Although, how many times have I said that?
There’s a knock at the door before it opens and Jay enters. I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face.
He closes the door behind him, his expression serious. Oh, no. I was enjoying him not getting into trouble, and now here he is because something’s gone wrong. I hop up from my chair and head around the desk. “What’s the problem?” I ask, frustrated but eager to soothe him.
He approaches quickly and kisses me, his lips firmly against mine as he pushes me back against my bookshelf, which rattles against the drywall.
My concern about his reason for being here dissolves. I’m glad he’s here. Not just in my office right now, but in my life.
He breaks our kiss. “Nothing’s wrong now. You don’t know how fucking crazy it’s been driving me that you’re just sitting up here, and I can’t do a damn thing to you.”
“You sure as fuck didn’t let that stop you,” I say.
He grins and kisses me again. His mouth still tastes like Listerine.
He fidgets with my belt, and before I know it, he’s unfastened my slacks.
No. We can’t do this. Not again.
But the thrill that I got from that first time when we fucked in the supply closet is too much for me to ignore, and I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t want to fuck him right now.
He pulls down my pants and grips my hips, urging me to turn my body. I spin around, offering up my ass to him. I glance over my shoulder as he reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a condom and packet of lube.
I eye him suspiciously. “Were you planning this?” I ask.
“I didn’t trust that I could really make it through the day without getting inside you.”
He sets the lube and condom on my desk. I remove my shirt and set it on the floor beside me. He strips down and piles his clothes beside my shirt. I return to my position, my jeans at my ankles as I place my hands on the bookshelf. He pushes up against me, his stiff cock sliding vertically into my crack as he pushes it against me.
I arch my back and press my ass against his pelvis. He wraps his arms around me and caresses up and down my torso. He kneads my flesh as he kisses along the back of my neck.
“You feel so fucking good,” he says. “I just want to be inside you. Filling you. Making you happy. Making you beg for more.”
“Don’t leave me hanging like this. Just do it. Own this ass. It’s yours.”
He doesn’t waste his time. He leaves me for a moment as he prepares his cock with the condom and lube and then before I know it, I feel that sweet pressure pushing within me. I spread my legs farther apart to invite him in.
He’s hard. Real fucking hard. I thought I would have been opened up already from all the times he’s fucked me, but I must be a little tense today because it’s a challenge as he makes his way steadily deeper, until his cock is pushed back inside me, filling me, tapping that spot that sends a ripple of ecstasy racing through me.
“Damn,” I say. My nerves feel as though they’re swimming in a sea of pleasure. He strokes his hand up and down my side as he starts his work, pulling out and pushing back in. He wraps an arm around my throat and pulls back slightly. He does this sometimes. Like he wants to show me just how much he owns me. I love it. Love the way he makes me feel like I’m all his when he fucks me.
“This ass, this body…they’re mine,” he says.
Not just those, but me too. I’m totally his in this moment.
He licks the side of my face like he wants to disrespect my body just for the sake of letting me know he’s free to do as he wishes with it. He pushes me against the bookshelf so that my face presses up against one of the wooden shelves as he fills me with his girth. My cheeks spark with heat as he slams into my prostate. The intensity of the sensation forces me to curse through gritted teeth.
He starts to slide it out. “No, no, no,” I say, pushing my ass even further back, trying to keep him in, but he pulls out anyway.
I’ve been abandoned, my body aching with dissatisfaction. Longing for his cock.
I turn around to him, and he leans down, wraps an arm around my legs and then the other around my back before scooping me up off the floor. He’s gotten more adventurous about throwing me around now that he knows I’m not concerned about my prosthesis.
“You’re a strong little fella,” I say.
He smirks as he carries me to the desk and lays me across it. He lifts my legs, unlaces my shoes, and throws them aside before removing my socks an
d jeans and throwing them all aside.
Take me, Jay. Fuck me good.
22
Jay
I raise his legs and push into him. He throws his head back and curses. The veins in his neck tense as he restrains his moans so someone outside won’t catch what we’re doing.
But knowing that anyone could hear us just excites me even more.
After I find my rhythm, I lean down and kiss him. He accepts it like he’s desperate for my mouth. His kiss is frenzied, his beard soft against my face.
I imagine a time with him when this condom won’t be necessary. When I can breed him. Because I feel like that’s where we’re heading.
I hope it is, at least. The thought makes me even harder. I slide my hand up and down his torso.
A knock.
Fuck.
I stop. He glances around uneasily, his face bright red, as though the person fucking walked in on us.
“Hey, boss.” It’s Tyler.
“Uh, yeah?”
“We just got this box in that William was asking me about. Says he thinks it was sent back to us from the wrong warehouse. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”
“Just…I’m just finishing something up,” Reese says. “I’ll be right out.”
The doorknob rattles. Seriously? He’s not just going to go the fuck away? I like Tyler and all now, but don’t cockblock.
“I just have a copy of the label,” he says. “I was going to give it to you.”
“Not until I finish giving you my cock,” I whisper.
“Leave it on the floor!” Reese says through his teeth. “I need to get this one thing done right now.” His serious tone makes him sound like he’s about to chew Tyler’s head off if he keeps this up.
“Um…okay. I’ll leave it right here. Let me know when you’re free so we can sort it out.” I hear his footsteps as he heads away from the door, down the hall.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Reese says, hitting the back of his head against his desk.
I wonder if Tyler killed the mood, but Reese’s dick sure didn’t get any softer because of the interruption. And I’m still stiff within him, enjoying how tight his hole got when Tyler scared the shit out of him.
Still, I don’t want to interfere with his job. I start to pull out. Reese grips my wrist and squeezes. He looks back up at me, his expression filled with desire.
“You don’t need to take care of that?” I ask.
He smirks. “I told him I had something I had to finish. And I do.”
The excitement that rushes through me makes me slide into him some more. He takes it, a smile stretching across his face. I can tell by the look in his eyes he wants it even more now than before.
I fuck him as hard as I can. He grips the edge of the desk.
I pant as sweat drips from my bangs and showers across his chest. I cling to his thighs as I feel myself steadily building to that delightful moment. We’re lost in our experience again, and soon he’s spewing a thick wad onto his belly, into his navel.
“I just need another moment,” I beg.
“Take it,” he says, his face wrinkled up as he recovers from his own orgasm.
I speed up, the pressure in my cock painful until the promise of relief is fulfilled and my body spams and trembles, the energy racing from my pelvis to my head. It’s all-consuming.
And it’s the sort of hot-ass fucking sex that makes me so appreciative that I’m lucky enough to get to fuck Reese.
***
“You need to come to dinner one night next week,” Tyler says.
I’m surprised by the invitation. “What?” I ask. We’re packing crates of bottles onto pallets in the main warehouse. We were just chatting about the news when he brought up dinner.
“I owe you after you did me a solid with that idea for Shelley’s birthday party. She’s still fucking blown away because I got her friend to come into town. I’ve been getting action for the past few weeks, and it’s all because of you.”
“You don’t have to do all that. It was nothing.”
“Dude, it’s an invitation. Don’t be an ass and refuse it.”
I’m fucking grinning over it. I’m not used to people being friendly and fucking inviting me to shit. It’s nice. “Yeah, I can do that.”
It’d be rude for me to say no, but I wish I could bring Reese. This is just a reminder that we’re not boyfriends and that this whole boss/employee thing complicates things even more. It reminds me of when I was younger and guys liked to skirt around the idea of being boyfriends. Seemed like they didn’t have a problem being serious with other guys. Just not me. I don’t think Reese is like that, but I don’t fit into his life. He’s a hot, successful guy who has so much to offer. I’m trailer park trash, without any money—a guy who’s never held steady employment.
A fuckup.
I accept Tyler’s invitation for dinner.
After I get off work, I head to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for the Chicken Parmesan. Reese has to stay at the factory until six, so I can grab what we need and have everything ready for us to make dinner together as soon as he gets home.
As I scan the chicken on a shelf, a young couple holds hands as they pass me, the guy carrying a basket filled with their groceries. They approach the fruits and vegetables and stop before a crate filled with cantaloupe. I keep my eye on them, trying to act like I’m just glancing around. They’re in their early twenties, I assume. They remind me of what was running through my head when Tyler invited me to dinner.
“You’re gonna have to pick it out this time,” the guy says.
“Why?” the girl asks.
“Because you have that trick you do.”
“Oh, that thing Mamaw taught me?”
She picks up a melon and hands it to him. He looks at her like she’s lost her mind.
“Tap it,” she instructs.
He obeys.
“Listen to it. Does it sound like it’s hollow or like it’s really solid?”
“Hollow.”
“That one’s not going to work, then.” She takes it from him and places it back in the crate. Then she grabs another. “Try this one.”
He does the same thing. “It’s like thud…thud…thud.”
“That one’s good then. If it’s hollow or too solid then it won’t work. You’re just supposed to hear that light thud.”
“Well, aren’t you just a little genius?” he says, lowering the melon from his ear and offering her a gentle kiss.
Jealousy wells within me.
I wish I could walk around with Reese without being worried people would judge us for being gay. But he might not even want to be in a public place with me, knowing that someone from work could discover us. I don’t want to put Reese’s job on the line, but we shouldn’t have to hide how we feel.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this, considering we haven’t taken things further. We’re fuck-buddies who like each other a hell of a lot. I haven’t wanted to push. Just wanted to be in his life. But considering how things are when we’re together, I don’t see a reason to pretend that we both don’t want to take things to another level. Unless he doesn’t want that, in which case, I should fucking find out before I get hurt.
I chase that thought away. Of course he wants more, but there’s a part of me that can’t believe anyone would want more from me.
After I finish grabbing ingredients for dinner, I head back to the house and start preliminary preparations for our meal.
I can’t get that couple out of my head.
Even though it’s only been a month, Reese has to feel the way I do—that this is beyond fucking around. No, there’s no question about how we feel. Unless he doesn’t want people to see that he’s with a guy. Or even worse, with some employee who’s beneath him. Who doesn’t have nice things or a house like he does. Or a good job.
That insecurity about me not being good enough for him keeps taking over my thoughts.
What if he just wants to
keep me as his dirty little secret? What if he’s ashamed of me? What if he sees me like all those other guys did—a fun lay, but nothing more? I know what that leads to. How much it hurts when everything falls apart.
I don’t know if I can do that again, especially the stronger my feelings become for Reese.
When he enters the front door and gazes at me with appreciative eyes, my insecurities subside. I don’t think he’d have a problem being out with me in public. Surely he’d be fine with others knowing what we have going on.
I relax as we prepare dinner together. We share tender kisses during each phase—kisses that remind me that we’ve come a long way from just fucking. What we have now means more, so it’s not ridiculous for me to assume that we should be able to take things further.
We sit down to eat, enjoying our creation as we chat about work and what movie we want to watch tonight.
Movies. Homemade dinners. Wonderful as they are, they aren’t what I’m reaching for.
While he talks about his day, I build up the courage to finally get this off my chest: “I was thinking maybe we could go out to see a movie.” Tension rises within me. I’m more nervous about bringing this up than I thought I’d be.
“Like, out?” he asks, eyeing me, not like he’s excited to share an experience, but like he’s worried someone will catch us and make our work life harder.
“Um…just like, whatever. You know, the way normal people who are starting to see each other do.”
I see the hesitation in his expression. He clearly isn’t a fan of the idea.
I suddenly feel rejected. “I mean, you have to admit that what’s going on here is more than fucking.”
“Of course. It definitely is, Jay. I know that. I really like you.”
“Then a date is the next logical step.”
His gaze shifts about. “Isn’t that what this is?” he asks.
“I want to like actually do things with you. You know, out in the real world…like everyone else does.”
He’s quiet.
Between These Sheets Page 13
