Rogue Acts

by Ainsley Booth

  “But we’re not on the record.”

  One side of Michael’s mouth quirked up, and he shook his head. “No, we’re not, are we?”

  Jake bit the side of his mouth and tracked Michael’s gaze as it roamed over his face. “You feel it too.”

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “Was I that bad at convincing you that I hated you?”

  “No.”

  “But still?”

  Maybe it was inevitable that Michael said, “I still wanted to bend you over the desk and fuck you.”

  “That would be messy.” It would make a mess of the studio, but that’s not what Jake was trying to say. The two of them together would just be messy. And hot.

  “It would.” Michael looked down and his dimple popped out.

  Fuck him, but Jake couldn’t make the right decision and walk out the door if he tried, when Michael brought out the big guns, those dimples. “But I’d still like to hear a whole lot more about bending me over a desk.”

  And when Michael turned on his smile even higher, Jake didn’t have a chance of not begging him to bottom out inside him that night. Not a fucking chance.

  Michael downed the rest of his scotch and put down the glass, which hit the table with a dull thud. Jake set aside his half-finished beer just in time for his mouth to get crushed against Michael’s.

  He’d expected the billionaire to demand with every touch. But, while Michael’s mouth wasn’t tentative, it was more questing than dominating. His hands, however, burrowed their way under Jake’s t-shirt without any hesitation. The one that had been holding a drink was cold enough to send shivers over Jake’s skin.

  Michael moaned into his mouth and separated only long enough to tug Jake’s t-shirt over his head. Breath heavy, Michael raked his gaze over his torso. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

  Jake wasn’t used to hearing that from lovers. He’d always been the funny, slightly chubby guy until he’d moved to L.A. and started hitting the gym during his plentiful time off. He didn’t know how to react when people complimented him on his physique. His skin flushed, but that didn’t change the fact that he liked the appreciative gaze and husky words from his lover.

  He undid a few more buttons of Michael’s shirt, needing the tawny skin underneath. Despite the fact that people often assumed that he was hard-edged and sarcastic all the time, Jake loved to touch and be held—he loved foreplay. It seemed as though Michael was on the same page because his kisses were urgent but unrushed. There was no doubt that sex would happen, and they had all night to get there.

  Jake finally got Michael’s shirt open, and the other man discarded the garment—which probably cost the equivalent of one of his car payments—by rolling his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

  Michael stood up and reached for Jake’s hand. “I can’t believe we’re going to make it to a bed.” Jake had sort of assumed that he’d have his ass spread out over the coffee table. Going to bed with Michael was much more intimate than the sordid one-night stand that he’d mentally prepared himself for. Even their kisses, the earnest compliment, and the heavy petting was sort of sweet, as though they were discovering each other and would do this again rather than fool around and pretend it had never happened.

  Going to Michael’s bed made Jake feel like this wasn’t him selling out so much as grabbing on to something he’d been craving for ages.

  Before Jake walked into his room, Michael had been ready to fuck him without even taking off any clothes, and he wasn’t sure what had changed in the interim. During his epoch of blow jobs from randoms, he hadn’t taken anyone to his actual bed. The alley, the conference room, the bar bathroom, sure—but something about inviting someone into the room where he slept was far too intimate. His therapist had suggested that he not sleep with anyone new until he felt ready to sleep with them after having sex with them.

  But this thing with Jake wasn’t just about following the rules. “I can’t resist seeing you naked on these expensive hotel sheets.”

  That should make it better, but it didn’t. Despite the fact that they barely knew each other, and that the chemicals responsible for attraction were likely addling his brain, he had a connection with the snarky podcaster that he hadn’t had with anyone since his best friend. With the fuck thing amping that connection up, the idea that this was a one-time deal between the two of them made his stomach hollow out.

  He couldn’t dwell on that because Jake sat on the end of the bed with his legs splayed, pulling Michael towards him. His dick was at mouth level, and he shivered with anticipation as Jake smiled and pulled the button on his slacks loose.

  “You’re going to suck my dick?”

  “Mmmhmm.” Maybe Jake wasn’t into dirty talk, but the sound he’d just made turned Michael’s already hard cock into more of a pillar of stone than it had already been. The muscles of the other man’s forearms flexed and shifted under his skin. Michael wanted to trace all of his skin with his tongue, but not before he got a little relief.

  He didn’t know if it was just the recent dearth of sex on his schedule or the fire that licked his insides every time he looked at Jake or heard his voice, but he was desperate for the man’s mouth on him.

  As though he could hear Michael’s thoughts, Jake began kissing the muscles defining his waist before pulling his cock out of his pants. Before long, Michael was shifting his hips and trying to get Jake to take him into his mouth, down to the root, before his brain liquefied in his skull. But Jake teased him, smiling up at him with a glazed-over, sexed-up look.

  “I’ve been thinking about this for hours.” He licked his lower lip, already a bit swollen from their kisses. “And you’re going to rush me?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for days.”

  “Not exactly what I was going for with the podcast.”

  “Wasn’t the podcast.” Michael reached out and cupped Jake’s chin, ready to make him take his cock. “It was the way you smile in photos. Like you have a juicy secret to tell. You’re smiling at me that way right now.”

  Jake responded by sucking him down whole, relentlessly trying to wring an orgasm from him. He was about to be embarrassed by how quickly he spurted. Somehow, Jake still had a smile on his face.

  And that was the last thing that Michael saw before he closed his eyes, threw back his head, and fucked Jake’s hot, wet mouth until he came.

  His vision blotted out for long moments, and he was sitting on the bed next to Jake when he finally came to. His dick was still hard, and Michael planned to rectify that, immediately.

  4

  Jake was seriously fucked, and Michael hadn’t even touched his dick. He lay back on the million-thread-count duvet after sucking the man dry and tired, hoping he hadn’t fucked himself out of getting fucked in the literal sense.

  One look at Michael’s filthy gaze told him that something delicious was in store. His hands went to his belt and he had his pants off in a flash. His boxer briefs were damp with precum, and the cool air caressed him there. Michael looked down and grinned. Jake tingled with a flush that spread over his exposed skin. He’d never been shy once he was already naked with someone—had already had sex with them. Everything about being with Michael was brand new and refreshing. And, suddenly, their agreement that this was a one-time thing, completely under wraps, wasn’t quite as agreeable to him. He wanted to go out to dinner with Michael and fight with him over his dumb fucking political moves.

  Instead of saying all this and ruining a perfectly good one-night stand, he kissed Micheal again and drew his body over his. He let his hands roam up and down his back, luxuriating in his soft skin and the way he moaned into his mouth when he got a dose of his own taste.

  By the time they came up for air, they were both panting, and Michael was clearly ready for round two. If Jake hadn’t been able to tell from his pike-hard cock, he would have known it from the way he was scrounging in Jake’s boxer briefs for his erection. He took a detour to caress his balls, and Jake threw
his head back.

  He was going to come all over these damn fine sheets, making a mess of this ungodly expensive duvet, and it was going to be the singularly best sexual experience of his life.

  Never in a million years, when he was fetching coffee and writing first drafts of policy speeches, hoping the cute barista would notice him, had he thought he would be getting his balls squeezed by a billionaire that he’d seduced by telling him that he was an idiot.

  “I knew you had a lot of balls to call me out in front of a million people like you did.”

  “Is that why you can’t stop touching them?”

  Michael pulled his fingers out of his briefs and rolled over, revealing his toned back. Jake could stare at his skin and the way his muscles flexed and moved for hours and days. But they didn’t have that long.

  He was relieved when Michael rolled back towards him with lube and condoms. As though the practicalities made it clear what this was. It was one time. All about fucking. None of the emotions he was experiencing rated in the scheme of things. He wouldn’t even remember this in a month—yeah, right.

  None of his doubts stopped him from shimmying out of his boxer briefs, which elicited a laugh from his temporary bed partner. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “I’m not that old.” At Michael’s pointed look toward the graying hair at his temples, he added, “Yet.”

  Instead of laughing, Michael swooped in for another searing kiss, and Jake had no words when Michael’s slick fingers found his rear entrance, just a long moan as he pressed in one and then two until Jake was mindlessly chasing an orgasm from the brush of his lover’s touch over his prostate.

  His dick ached, but Michael playfully slapped his hand away when he reached to take himself in hand. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when you make a mess all over yourself.”

  How did this man know that he liked a lover who took full control in bed? How did he know that being told not to touch himself would make trying to do so all the more enticing? And how did this man, who he shouldn’t want, get to the core of what he craved in bed without even asking?

  A perfect fit—until Jake left this room and they went back to being adversaries.

  Not wanting to meet Michael’s eyes for fear that the other man would see how affected he was, he pushed him away enough to turn over and press his ass in his lap. “I’m going to need you to fuck me now.”

  He heard the snap of latex over Michael’s cock and waited for him to smooth over the condom with lube. He squeezed his cock, hoping that this would last longer because Michael was coming the second time.

  Once he felt him at his entrance, Jake knew that his lover wouldn’t have to last that long. Just the anticipation of being filled up made him groan with pleasure.

  Michael did not disappoint. He sheathed himself fully inside and rode Jake hard, until he was backing up for more even though there was none. He’d both bottomed and topped, and he was glad that Michael was topping him. He didn’t have to think about giving or whether he was being too rough. Michael Garcia was giving him everything he had, and it was still not enough. This man made him hungry and needy for release. He had him wanting to beg for one more night, a year, a lifetime of fucking that made him feel more viscerally alive than he had since changing history almost a decade ago.

  But this wasn’t like selling out. Having sex with Michael Garcia felt like coming home.

  5

  Michael needed to stop thinking about Jake, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Weeks after his lover had walked out of his hotel suite, in the dead of night, without saying goodbye, he wouldn’t stop popping into his head at the most inopportune times.

  Jake hadn’t even ranted about him on his podcast. Not once. That should be a relief, but Michael actually craved it. He’d considered saying something in support of the president just so Jake would go off on a tear about him. So he would know that Jake was thinking about him.

  It was pathetic considering that he’d scored himself a private meeting with the chair of the FCC and convinced him to hold off on implementing the repeal of the net neutrality regulations.

  At least for now.

  This didn’t mean that Michael trusted any of these people. And he didn’t like any of the other items on the president’s agenda. After his night with Jake, he couldn’t stop thinking about calling Kara Swisher and coming out against the tax plan and for a universal basic income. His company, among many others, was making huge strides toward obviating the need for human workers. Automation was the future, and it had been built on the back of the American worker, and the American worker deserved a piece of what the tech world was building.

  Besides, if they put everyone out of work without replacing their income, who was going to buy all the cool gadgets that paid for his wineries and vacations to the Maldives? Michael was nothing if not practical.

  Still, in another meeting with his senior leadership team telling him to shut up and stay apolitical, he tried to listen. Even though he wanted to talk to Jake much more than he’d ever wanted to get a rundown of earnings from Aidan.

  “With the tax cut, this should be our best quarter yet—”

  Michael was listening well enough to know that the room had gone silent. “What?” Everyone but him was looking at their phones. “Do we need to adjourn to the fallout shelter?”

  No one laughed. The four people in the room avoided his gaze but looked at each other. So it involved him. Michael’s heart sped up, but he waited for someone to speak. That was always his play when he needed to be the most powerful man in the room. And he was the most powerful man in this room.

  Aidan spoke up first. “There’s a tweet.”

  He didn’t have to say anymore. Michael logged in to his iPad and opened the Twitter app. Apparently, before he’d finished his coffee, the president had decided to disassemble his tech council and end net neutrality in one fell swoop. He’d even thrown in a couple of homophobic slurs about Michael to make sure it was extra painful and the American public knew that it was his fault.

  He was going to be sick, literally about to throw up in front of his most senior staff. They were the only thing that kept him from pulling out the trash can from under his desk. His chest tightened, and rage flowed through his veins just as surely as lust had flowed in that hotel room a few weeks ago.

  And the first thing he wanted to do was call Jake. A man who he’d fucked three times, but whose number he didn’t have. He’d never let a lover get in the way of his business, and he shouldn’t start now, but he couldn’t help thinking that Jake would know exactly how to handle this.

  As though Jake could read his mind from LA, he got a DM. And then promptly ordered everyone out of his office.

  6

  Jake wasn’t used to wearing a tie anymore as podcasting was incredibly forgiving when it came to wardrobe. The suit he’d dragged from the back of his closet in LA had been purchased for Jason’s wedding a few months ago. Not the shade of blue he would have chosen, but it was appropriate for Capitol Hill.

  He paced outside the hearing room, too nervous to sit in on Michael’s testimony. Several reporters would come out and see him as soon as it was over, and he should really be in the room to prepare, but he just couldn’t do it.

  The night before, he’d arrived in DC and met Michael in another hotel suite. This time, they hadn’t fucked. They hadn’t even kissed, only shared a strictly limited-on-his-part number of longing glances before diving into the work they had to do.

  The hearing was only scheduled to go on two hours—enough of the committee was on a firm lunch schedule due to hypoglycemia that they usually adjourned around 12:15 at the latest. It was now 12:17. Michael had prepared for every question that Jake could think of, but he’d been in there for over two hours. They could ask him anything, and even try to nail him for things he’d done when his company was nothing but a twinkle in his eye.

  Jake tried to breathe and hoped that his gambit to save net neutrality and a modicum of his lover
’s pride had worked. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Michael in the weeks following their night together…he hadn’t even been able to find it in him to go off on the guy on air. His friends and partners had gotten him to admit that he was maybe (probably) falling for him.

  For the first time since he’d entered politics, helping someone hadn’t been calculated. Michael had been setting himself up to be ridiculed by meeting with the FCC chair behind closed doors. Nothing that the chair committed to was binding, and it only made him look gullible.

  Jake wished he hadn’t walked out on him, wished he had been able to call and give him advice. He wished that he’d let himself talk to Michael every day. Touch him.

  All these wishes had made him call in just about every favor he was owed by every Hill staffer he knew to get this public hearing on net neutrality convened at the end of a long—long for Congress, anyway—session.

  Finally, the doors to the hearing room opened and reporters flooded out. Most of them had their phones dialed before they’d crossed the threshold. That could be very good or very bad. Jake didn’t take a full breath until he saw Michael, and his hopefully-tonight-again lover winked at him and smiled.

  Wanting to embrace him, but not ready for the kind of publicity that might bring, he grabbed his forearms. “So?”

  Michael leaned in close enough that anyone looking would know that they were intimate and said, “He’s fucked.”

  “It really is gorgeous at sunset.” Michael looked over at Jake as they walked up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial at dusk. “Makes me feel American.”

  “Like you didn’t feel American today, testifying before Congress.”

  “At the hearing my gay lover set up for me because of my own hubris.” He paused, pretending to consider. “Both things made me feel pretty fucking American.”

  “So, I’m your lover.” Jake sounded unsure. Michael had been unsure whether they could actually be together before today. But Jake had surprised him by coming through. He’d cared for him more than he did about how it would look.