Alluring Passion: A MM Contemporary Bundle

by Peter Styles

  “But you’re the boss.”

  “So?” Chris shrugged. “What’s the point of having a company and working toward something if the connections you make along the way are only skin deep? I want my employees to make connections. I want my managers to become friends, and I want my interns to go back to school and tell their friends all about us. I want my clients to realize that this is more than just a partnership. It’s a family.”

  Jeremiah had gone very quiet as Chris spoke, but now he lifted his head and looked hard at him. Chris couldn’t really turn to look at the other, not while he was driving, so he settled for just raising his eyebrows and basking in the warmth of that gaze. “What is it?”

  “You sound really passionate about all this. More than just a normal boss would, I mean. Isn’t it just business to you?”

  “It should be,” Chris grunted. He spit the words out as if they were venom. He hated their taste. “At least, that’s what a lot of people would say. However, I’ve learned that, for a whole hell of a lot of people, work is all they’ve got. And work is always going to be work. It isn’t a party. But… where is the harm in giving people something else in their lives? If they need it. Or even if they don’t. We’re a family, and I don’t hire people who I wouldn’t want to be in my family.”

  “You’re a noble person,” Jeremiah said, quietly. His voice was full of admiration, which touched Chris to his very core. He felt warm, deep in his stomach, and almost hot in other certain places. “I mean that. It’s hard to find people like that anymore. And I think… I have to apologize. I’m sorry, Chris.”’

  The warmth he felt suddenly relocated and became ice crawling down his spine, chilling him. That sentence never had a good meaning. “What are you apologizing for?”

  His hands were tight on the steering wheel. He didn’t even know where he was driving anymore, or where he had wanted to head in the first place.

  “I had you pegged pretty wrongly when we first met.”

  “Oh?” While that seemed serious, it wasn’t at all what he’d been afraid of. He relaxed, slumping down a little. “How is that?”

  “I’d kind of heard some things about you from other people that were pretty rude. And, I realize now, pretty wrong. So, I’m sorry. You’re a terrific guy.”

  A terrific guy.

  “I’m aware of my reputation,” he said. “People thinking I have some big secret that lets me get the upper hand, right? And then they take out the rest of their frustrations on me by saying I’m causing whatever else is wrong with them. I’m just starting to think that the biggest problem people have is just not taking responsibility for themselves. And my big secret? I care. That’s all.” And sometimes, he knew, he cared too much about all the wrong things. His big secret seemed to him to be a big weakness, sometimes.

  “Well, I’m glad that you care!” Jeremiah burst out. “I’m glad I was wrong about you, and I’m glad that I met you! You’re not who I thought and that’s a good thing, for once. You make me feel comfortable.”

  Chris said nothing, because words seemed so insignificant in response to that sort of praise. His heart swelled in his chest, and he hoped Jeremiah would appreciate the silence for what it was. Only after a few minutes of aimless driving did he realize he still had no idea where he was headed.

  “Did you have somewhere in particular you wanted to get pizza from?” he asked.

  “Can I actually get a raincheck on that pizza?” Jeremiah looked down at his hands. “And the very next restaurant you see is fine with me. I don’t care. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  Chris spotted a neon sign in the distance and headed for it, squinting to make out what the wording might be. “You should bring a snack bar or something in your bag, Jeremiah. It’s not good for your brain to be hungry all day.”

  “Well, it hasn’t been all day…”

  “But it’s been long enough. If you won’t get yourself something to keep in your bag, I guess I’ll just have to do it.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Chris pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant he had seen from afar, which he could now see was called La Casa. “I don’t have to do a lot of things,” he retorted. “But I do it anyway because I care. And also because I can.”

  “Yes, boss,” Jeremiah said, sarcastically.

  They both got out of the car and headed inside the restaurant. A short, compact Latino man greeted them. “How many?”

  “Only us two.”

  The host led them over to a booth in the corner. “A server will be along shortly. Thank you for choosing to dine with us at such a late hour.”

  Chris hid his amusement at the practiced words. They were delivered in the painstaking manner of someone who clearly had a firm grasp on English and wanted to prove it. The deliberate squashing of the accent only seemed to accentuate it. It wouldn’t be nice to point that out though. He was saved from having to do so by Jeremiah leaning toward him and whispering, “Did you see his moustache?”

  “I didn’t,” Chris whispered back.

  “It was straight out of a 70s gangster film!”

  Chris chuckled and they settled in, looking over the menu while being served drinks and the customary chips and salsa. Jeremiah set into those with a vengeance. Chris watched the shape of his mouth, his full lips reddened slightly by the heat of the sauce. Then, to his surprise, Jeremiah picked up a bottle of hot sauce that sat at the edge of the table and patted a liberal amount into the salsa bowl.

  “You like it hot? I’m surprised.”

  Jeremiah looked up with his mouth full of protruding chip corners, and Chris laughed again.

  When their server returned, he ordered the first thing he saw. He had only been pretending to read the menu, instead choosing to watch Jeremiah peruse the pages. The other man ordered a Mexican pizza, and their orders were placed and delivered again in a timely fashion. And no wonder, since they were the only customers.

  “This looks really good,” Jeremiah said, looking down at his “pizza” with his eyes glowing and full of hunger.

  After inspecting his own meal, Chris was obliged to agree. He had a flattened chicken breast smothered in red sauce and beans, served with a side of rice and tortillas. Even though he was the one who had eaten lunch, he felt his stomach give a heavy lurch and water filled his mouth.

  “What’s that?”

  Chris followed Jeremiah’s pointing finger to a square piece of cornbread perched on the very edge of his place. “A little extra, I guess. It looks like cornbread.”

  “But it’s… shiny.” Jeremiah said, through a mouthful of his pizza, a smudge of refried beans at the corner of his mouth. Chris was momentarily fascinated by it, resisting the urge to reach out with his thumb and wipe the smudge away. He might accidentally twitch at the end of it, brushing his touch against the other man’s soft lower lip. And then Jeremiah’s tongue flicked out, and Chris felt the heat from earlier return even stronger than before. His groin ached, and he moved his legs closer together to try and fight against the hardening of his dick, as if he might be at risk of being discovered.

  “Chris? You okay?”

  He snapped back to himself instantly, with a little shudder. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  And I think I might be losing control. My feelings are growing way too fast.

  Desperate for something else to focus on, he brought his eyes back to the little square of cornbread. Jeremiah was right. It was shiny, strangely sticky-looking. Covered in honey, maybe?

  He reached down and picked it up, surprised at how absolutely heavy it was and not sticky at all. “Huh. It feels kind of greasy.”

  Curiosity got the best of him and he brought it up to his mouth to take a nibble. A rich, incredibly sweet taste flooded across his tongue. It tasted like cornbread, if cornbread had decided to be cake for a day.

  “Wow. That’s intense.”

  “Really?” Jeremiah grinned and leaned forward over his dinner plate. “Let me try.
”

  “Here.” Chris held out the piece of cornbread, politely offering a corner that he hadn’t bitten from.

  Jeremiah’s dark eyes slid up to his, and Chris wondered if he’d never been fed by another person before. It was such an ordinary thing to do, wasn’t it? If someone was interested in a bite of the food someone else had on their plate, it was completely normal to stab it with your fork and offer it over. How had he never experienced this before?

  There was a first time for everything though. He watched as a look of determination—maybe more than the situation called for—crossed the other man’s face. His mouth opened, lips parting softly to take the edge of the offering in his mouth. Chris laughed, incredulous, as a look of wonder and delight spread across his companion’s face.

  “It’s better than sex!”

  Then Jeremiah snapped back and put his hand over his mouth with his eyes wide. Realization of what he had said set in and he lifted up his other hand now.

  Chris reached out and pulled his hands down, laying them again on the table. He couldn’t help smiling. His face hurt from smiling so much, reminding him of how rarely he was genuinely amused. “Well, if you like it so much, you can have it.”

  Jeremiah accepted it, but the look on his face was one of wariness and shock, as if he didn’t quite trust himself.

  Don’t do this, honey. Don’t ruin this for both of us. Stay opened up.

  Unfortunately, Jeremiah remained closed off for the rest of their dinner date. Chris didn’t press him. Clearly, a line had been crossed here and he would have to be sensitive to it in the future.

  With dinner finished, they headed back out to the car. Chris opened the door for his companion, watching as he slid inside before walking back around to his own side. “Do you want to do anything else tonight?”

  Silence, and then a shake of the head. “Thank you for dinner but I’m pretty tired. I have some work I need to do when I get home too, before I can sleep.”

  “Of course.”

  The drive back to the college was somehow longer than before. Chris just focused on navigating, since he wasn’t used to this area.

  “I’m parked over there.” Jeremiah pointed.

  Would you like it if I thought it’s so endearing that you point like a little kid?

  Chris pulled up beside Jeremiah’s vehicle, which was in a spot way back in the shadows of the corner where trees were planted nearby. There was writing on the side of the vehicle but he didn’t care enough to see what it actually said.

  “Thank you again,” Jeremiah said and got out of the car.

  I can let you go. Or I can push my limits here. I feel it. Do you?

  Before he could stop himself, he turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. Jeremiah turned back toward him, confusion and a bit of fright on his face. “What are you doing?”

  Chris reached out and snagged onto the other’s shoulders, leaning forward and pressing their lips together hard. Jeremiah tasted of sweet cornbread and tension, and his lips were so soft. Where they touched, it burned. It tingled on his lips and burned deep down in the core of his stomach and lower still. With a gasp, he pulled away from Jeremiah and threw himself back into the car. He didn’t look. He didn’t dare breathe or think. He just needed to get away as fast as possible, before he could regret what he had done.

  Oh, but he was already regretting it. And even as he peeled away as fast as he could with his foot jammed down on the pedal, he couldn’t help but to look in the rearview mirror. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  Jeremiah stood in the place where Chris left him, glued to the spot. As Chris watched, one hand gently lifted up to touch his lips.

  Feeling his burning desire pressing against his inner thigh, Chris shuddered and looked back out at the road. All he could hope was that it had been the right thing to do. The other was certainly stunned… but was it a good sort of stunned?

  Chapter 10

  “Where have you been?”

  Jeremiah looked up, his hand still pressing against his lips. He had driven home one-handed because he couldn’t keep his fingers away. His lips were still tingling and he had no idea when they would stop, if they would ever stop.

  “Oh, Markus,” he said, looking at his boyfriend. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You’re extremely late!” Markus said, standing up and gesturing toward Jeremiah. “What happened to you? You were supposed to be home hours ago. And what happened to your shirt?”

  What did happen to my shirt?

  Jeremiah looked down, noticing for the first time that he had a huge stain on the front of his shirt. It was red, presumably salsa.

  “I’m sorry, Markus. It’s just… you really wanted me to do this, you know? And I really want to be with you, so I… I did what you asked, and… well…”

  Markus grabbed his shoulders, but his grip was rougher than Chris’s. Jeremiah twisted away from it automatically, surprising himself. “What are you talking about, babe?”

  “I called Chris Finley and asked him out on another date. And he said yes. And I went and we had dinner and he kissed me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss him. Uh… but… I didn’t. He kissed me, Markus. I swear. Markus?”

  Markus was shaking, presumably with anger. Jeremiah cringed slightly. In their three years, he had seen Markus angry plenty of times but he had never had that anger directed at him before. He had come to think that he was immune to it, that he was Markus’s special someone who could never make him angry.

  And now he was about to be proven wrong.

  Markus reached out, shoulders quivering… and he grabbed Jeremiah around his shoulders and pulled him in tight, crushing him in a rib-bending hug. His fingers ruffled through Jeremiah’s hair, stroking him down the back of his skull and all the way down his spine to his ass.

  “You are a damn genius,” Markus whispered. He sounded aggressive and soothing all at once. “A damn genius. You’re so good at this. We’re going to know everything about him in no time!”

  Jeremiah smiled feebly. The edges of his lips continued to tingle. “Are you sure you don’t mind that… a kiss happened? Are you sure it isn’t cheating?”

  “Of course not! This is exactly what we were planning on!”

  What you were planning on, you mean.

  “Babe, you had an idea and you acted on it! And you went out there and nailed it!” Markus released Jeremiah and spun around in the living room, pacing and slapping his palms together in a motion reminiscent of his days as a football player, working himself up and getting pumped. “The more you do this, the better you’re going to get at it! His secrets are ours.”

  “Markus!” Jeremiah exclaimed. He was smiling, incredulous and not sure if he was happy or not. It made him feel light to be the cause of his boyfriend’s happiness, but he still felt so… so uncomfortable with all of this. “Can you listen to me for just a second?”

  Markus spun again, turning to look at him. “Sure, babe. What is it?”

  “He already told me his secrets!” Jeremiah spread his hands. “He said he treats his employees like family and tries to make real connections with his clients that go beyond just business. He said his secret is that he cares. And that’s all he said. That was it.”

  Dark clouds swept in over Markus’s face, rendering his bright expression overcast and moody once again. “He fed you a load of shit is what he did.”

  “He was sincere.”

  “No,” Markus grunted. He reached down and took Jeremiah’s hand, patting the back of it. The gesture was somehow condescending, and not at all how it felt when Chris had done the same; he didn’t feel reassured in the least. “He wasn’t sincere. He played you, babe. He doesn’t trust you yet, but he will. And faster than I ever expected. I love you so much for doing this for me.”

  “I love you too…”

  “Now, let me tell you something.” Markus leaned down over Jeremiah, staring deep into his eyes. “No one in their right mind treats business
as anything but business. If I palled around with my workers, I would have gone under months ago. That Finley bastard is trying to make himself seem like he’s something he’s not because he wants to impress you, to catch you like a fish.” Markus made an exaggerated reeling motion with one hand, pretending to struggle with his imaginary fish. “But little does he know, you’re not just some regular old sardine. You’re a goddamn shark, and he’s going to be the one who gets caught!”

  “I don’t think they fish for sardines with a fishing rod.”

  Markus shrugged, uninterested. “You get the point. Anyway, come on.” He grabbed Jeremiah’s hand.

  “Where are we going, and why?”

  I don’t really want to do anything tonight.

  But it seemed as though he didn’t have any choice. Markus already had him in the bedroom, tossing him on the bed while he fetched their bottle of gel lube. Jeremiah sighed and undressed, lying flat on his back and spreading his legs obediently. His member lay limp against his thigh, a sure sign that he didn’t want any part of this.

  Markus came back to him and crawled on top of him, kissing his lips. The tingling returned from before, flaring back to life. All at once, Jeremiah’s tension and apprehension morphed into something uncontrollable and needy; grabbing Markus’s face in his hands, he crushed their mouths together and bucked his hips so that his swelling member rubbed against the other man’s body. He had been so hot and bothered all this time, so ready and agitated; his body hadn’t been capable of understanding why there was no release.

  And there was release here now as Markus’s fingers prepared him for what was coming next; the act they knew so well. Jeremiah sank into the sensations, shutting his eyes so as to better enjoy them. Friction was friction, wasn’t it? Attraction was all the same. He loved Markus, and Markus loved him. It didn’t matter if Chris got him riled up, because that was what Markus wanted.

  And as far as he was concerned, Markus could have anything he wanted. And he would.