Antonio stood and unzipped his slacks. Justin’s gaze scorched his skin everywhere it fell. When Antonio worked his dick free, Justin grabbed his own loosely, never taking his eyes from Antonio’s crotch.
“I want to watch you jerk off.” Gravel ran through Justin’s voice. “Sit down and go slow.”
Antonio complied without question. He dropped into a nearby seat and worked the length of his rod.
“Run your thumb over the head,” Justin ordered.
Antonio sank into the words. It took what little focus he had, not to speed up. He didn’t know which aroused him more—watching Justin mimic his movements, or that his self-care was turning Justin on.
Antonio pumped faster with each passing minute. Living this moment, one he’d fantasized about for so long, made it impossible to hold back.
“God. This is fucking intense, watching you.” Justin’s voice had dropped an octave, and his words were raw. “I want to see you come. Sticky and wet.”
The request—command?—was enough to push Antonio over the edge. His eyelids fluttered, and he tilted his head back, sinking into the orgasm, as bright lights danced in front of his eyes.
He heard Justin’s groans. They were as vivid as any time the two of them shared with Emily, and—Christ—they were better than a daydream. Antonio looked up to see Justin climax, coating his hand with jizz and not stopping until he was spent.
Antonio sank back into his seat, spent. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was of them trying to catch their breath. He didn’t dare look at Justin. What was he supposed to say after something like that? As much as he wouldn’t mind cuddling, it didn’t seem appropriate.
“That was incredible.” Justin’s words shattered the silence and Antonio’s creeping doubt. His voice was closer than Antonio expected. “Exactly what I needed and wanted.”
Antonio watched Justin kneel next to him, box of tissues in hand. Justin cleaned Antonio’s cock gently, squeezing enough to tantalize without hurting. Pleasant chills raced down Antonio’s spine with each touch.
Justin stood and tossed the tissues away, as Antonio did up his slacks.
“Can you think now?” Antonio asked.
“Better than in ages. That was like magic. We’re good, aren’t we? You and me?”
Better than ever. “We’re great,” Antonio said aloud.
Justin grinned. “Then let’s plot out what we’re saying to the board tomorrow.”
This wasn’t quite as clear an ending as Antonio wanted. It lacked any sort of closure or commitment, but it was a good starting point. As long as things were stable with Justin, he was happy.
A new thought flitted into Antonio’s head. He wished Emily weren’t gone. Odd thing to think of, after living one of his ultimate dreams. But it made sense he was concerned about her.
Then why did the random thought fill him with apprehension and leave him conflicted?
Chapter Twenty-One
EMILY DIDN’T CARE IF she ran into Cynthia or Paul. As she stormed back into the apartment, she itched for a confrontation. A face to take her frustration out on, since she’d held back in Grant’s office.
As with earlier in the morning, the other doors were closed. The silence in the familiar space helped Emily bring her racing thoughts under control. Maybe it was better this way. She didn’t need to pick a fight in this frame of mind; she needed to go somewhere she could calm down. Find her center enough to listen to Justin’s and Antonio’s messages. Figure out what came next.
She didn’t know why, but she grabbed a couple changes of clothes and threw them in a duffle bag. Almost a month of spending half her nights someplace else, and she hadn’t had an overnight bag before now.
“Didn’t expect to see you home in the middle of the day.” Cynthia’s voice behind her startled her. “Are you going somewhere?”
Emily zipped her bag and turned to the doorway. “I don’t have a job anymore. I suppose I can be anywhere I want in the middle of the day.”
“I didn’t think your contract was up yet.”
“It wasn’t.” Emily let her irritation creep into her voice. “They let me go because someone told them I was sleeping with the boss.”
“I’m sorry.” Cynthia was geniune. “But... you were.”
The reaction sank into the churning pit that was Emily’s gut, stirring the discomfort. She didn’t expect the sympathy to come with a qualifier. “I know that. And obviously it wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. I’d rather have dealt with it myself, than have one of you tell my employer.”
Cynthia crossed her arms. “It sucks. I agree. But what makes you think it was one of us?”
“Because no one else knew.” Emily wasn’t in the mood to go on the defensive. She knew what she had and hadn’t done, and didn’t need it throw back in her face. Compassion would be good.
“Besides the man you were screwing.”
“Mistake. I get it.” A chanting in the back of Emily’s skull wasn’t so sure, and that bothered her. “But I didn’t expect either of you—people I trust—to sell me out.” As she spoke the words, she realized that was why this hurt as much as it did. Yes, she’d made a bad decision, but going over her head and telling her boss violated her trust, and she didn’t understand why. “I wasn’t using the opportunity to get any special privileges. It wasn’t impacting my judgment in the office.”
“It was impacting other things,” Cynthia said. “But I don’t think anyone meant to hurt you. I’m guessing Paul did this for you.”
“In that case, it’s all fine. What should I do next?” Emily let anger bleed into her questeion. “Go to Paul? Thank him profusely for possibly destroying my career? Beg him to take me, love me, make sure I was his happy little homemaker? Be content with a man I don’t feel that way about?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Cynthia spoke through clenched teeth.
“No. You’re sticking up for your brother, because he’s family. Because you care that much about him that you’re blind to his flaws. I understand that. I’d do the same for you. Defend you until the ends of the earth, even if you made a mistake, which we all do. I’d stand by your side. Once upon a time, I thought you’d do the same for me. Paul cornered me in the kitchen and tried to feel me up against my will, because he’s got a crush on me. Your response? I misunderstood. I needed you to keep a tiny secret. One that didn’t impact you at all, and you couldn’t do that. And I’m the one who’s wrong for being upset?”
The guest bedroom door creaked open, and Paul stepped into the hallway, stretching. “Why are you two yelling?”
“Just a minor misunderstanding.” Cynthia spoke through clenched teeth.
The implication that this wasn’t important... The lack of sympathy... Paul staring at her breasts, despite the heated situation...
Something snapped inside Emily. “I’m done here. I don’t mean today, but overall. Find someone else to share the rent with.” This was rash. She had nowhere to go and couldn’t afford a place on her own. Especially without a job.
She didn’t care.
“If you leave, you can’t...” Cynthia frowned, and her voice cracked. “You don’t get access to the project anymore.” The words came out like a childish taunt.
In the back of Emily’s mind, she knew Cynthia was fumbling, but Emily couldn’t do this. Too much hurt already. She let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “What the hell does that have to do with anything? Why would you even bring that up? I don’t care about your stupid dating app.” When Cynthia frowned, Emily felt a smug bit of victory. It was misplaced, but she didn’t care. “In fact, that’s fine. You lock me out. You don’t own my intellectual property. If you launch with my back end in place, I will fuck you from here to New York, to keep you from using what I built.”
“Because you’re a selfish, petty bitch, who did something she can’t own up to?” Paul asked.
Emily would have slapped him, but he might like that. She shouldered her bag and shoved past them both. “I’m don
e. I won’t talk to brick walls.”
She stormed to her car, blinking back the tears that stung her eyelids. What was she supposed to do now?
Her phone rang, startling her. It was Antonio. She couldn’t talk to him She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk to anyone. She turned the device off and shoved it as far into her purse as she could. She cranked the stereo, and headed in a random direction.
JUSTIN COULDN’T FIND his focus. He stood in front of the board, in the investment firm offices, talking through scripted lines. He didn’t hear what he said. Meeting Antonio’s gaze jumbled his thoughts further. The other men in the room wore impassive masks, which was unnerving. Justin settled for staring at the screen and his presentation as much as possible.
Emily hadn’t returned their calls. What happened with Antonio yesterday still occupied most of Justin’s mind. The same rationale accompanied it, repeating on a loop. It was just sex. A way to get our heads back on straight. It didn’t sound right, and no matter how Justin poked at the thought, he couldn’t figure out why not or decipher the reality.
He reached the end of his presentation. “As you can see, we’re on track, and we’ll release on time and under budget.”
“Good to hear.” Grant’s tone was as flat as his expression. “It’s heartening to see you’ve pulled this off, despite the hiccup. I knew you could.”
Justin clenched his jaw, to keep from responding. He didn’t like hearing Emily referred to as a hiccup, and if Grant knew they could do it, she wouldn’t have been there to begin with. “We couldn’t have done it without the contractor help.”
Grant frowned. “I heard. Did you have anything else?”
“Yes.” Justin had been waiting for this opportunity. He would pull something positive out of this affair. “Now that we’re moving into the next phase of deployment, I’d like to start shifting some of my staff’s time to working on an education piece.” He had figures and preliminary previews of the functionality. Not nearly what they’d developed, but enough to tempt the board.
“No,” Grant said.
Justin swallowed a growl. “You haven’t heard me out.”
“We’ve heard this before. It’s not a profitable component. We’ve already voted it down. The discussion will not be reopened. Do you have anything for us besides education?”
“Yes.” When the idea occurred to him last night, he told himself it was ludicrous. Not worth considering. But it didn’t leave him alone, and now it was the only right answer. “I’m tendering my resignation. I’ll stay on long enough to transition to my replacement, and be available for consulting after. You’ll have my official signed notice by this afternoon.”
The room erupted in a wave of people talking over each other. Justin didn’t process any of it. The only thing he was aware of was Antonio staring at him, lips pursed and lines creasing his forehead.
The next hour and a half was chaos, with the other members begging, threatening, and trying to bribe Justin.
This isn’t the way to negotiate.
If you want a change in benefits instead, say so.
He shot it all down. It didn’t matter at this point if they caved and gave him permission to build education—which they didn’t. He was tired of bending to their will. It was the antithesis of everything he’d built the company for.
The situation might be amusing, but Antonio never said a word, and that filled Justin with a low hum of dread.
The meeting adjourned, and Justin walked out with the satisfaction that at least one thing had gone his way. He was free. The realization was more liberating than he’d expect. Antonio kept pace with him but didn’t speak. They reached Justin’s car and climbed inside.
“Lunch?” Justin asked.
Nothing.
“Korean barbecue?”
No response.
Justin pointed the car in the direction of their favorite barbecue place. They drove in silence for several minutes, but it chewed on his nerves. “Are you going to talk to me?”
“Would you listen if I said anything?”
That was a start. “Of course I would.”
“Are you certain?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” Justin didn’t like the hostility radiating in his direction. Sure, his announcement came out of left field, but Antonio would be slotted as his replacement, and it wasn’t as though Justin was going anywhere. Not even into the office, after a couple of weeks. “What’s on your mind?”
“My mind? No. The better question is what the fuck are you doing? Is this because of Emily? Something else? Make me understand.”
Justin gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. “The only part of this that has to do with her is she reminded me who I am and how I got here.”
“Or, for those of us who aren’t in your head, she dragged that damned story out of you and let you relive the thrill of running away, like you did ten years ago.”
Was that what Antonio thought of him? The revelation hurt more than Justin thought possible. “I’m not running away,” he shouted. He swallowed at the sound of the childish words and pulled into the restaurant parking lot. He shut off the engine and twisted in his seat, to face his friend. “Ten years ago, I stopped letting other people’s expectations drive my path, and I made a decision. That’s what happened today, too. Why are you pissed off? Now you get to stay in the U.S. With me gone, you’ll be tagged for the CEO spot, and even if you decide to stay in your current position, you’re still a stakeholder. You’ll contract with my new firm to sell me the backend tech, and I’ll build PP into what it should be.”
“You think that’s what this is about?” Antonio stared at him in disbelief. “Me keeping my job, so I don’t have to go back home?”
“Yes.” Though, now, Justin wasn’t so certain.
“This isn’t about the fucking company. This has never been about the company.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Jesus Christ.” Antonio scrubbed his face. “This is about you. Sure, I’m proud of what we built with APPropriate Designs, but only because we did it together. Did you think everything with Emily was because I was feeling kinky and wanted to experiment?”
The question tugged at the thoughts Justin had been ignoring since yesterday, but he refused to let them loose. “Kind of. Yeah.”
“Is that what you think yesterday was?” A sliver of hurt leaked into Antonio’s voice.
Justin tried to pretend he didn’t hear it. He had that answer. It had been taunting him since their shared moment. “Yesterday was sex. Like you said, we’ve been doing some kinky shit lately. I was stressed—you helped me wrap my head around it.”
“You say I’m a horrible liar. You’re full of shit. That wasn’t just sex.” Antonio’s voice grew in volume with each new sentence. “I don’t know how you don’t see this, but it’s my fault for assuming you would. For not saying anything. Yesterday, collaborating with you on APPropriate Designs—everything is because I love you. I have since Brazil, and—Christ—sometimes you make me feel like an idiot for not letting it go. But there it is. And I could stay friends. I’d be fine with that. But you’re throwing everything away, and it’s not all yours to dispose of, and I can’t watch you do this.”
Justin’s thoughts stalled. He didn’t know how to process the confession.
I love you. Antonio’s voice echoed in his head. Justin struggled for a response. “I’m not... I don’t... I’m sorry. You’re my best friend. Partner in crime. I never could have done any of this without you. But I don’t feel that way.” Because he wasn’t attracted to me. So he couldn’t love Antonio, could he?
Antonio stared at him, nostrils flared and lips drawn in a thin line. He shook his head. “Fuck you.” He climbed from the car and slammed the door behind him.
Justin should go after him. He didn’t have anything different to say, but he should figure it out. He couldn’t move. His hands were glued to the steering wheel and his legs locked in place. What had he done?
Chapter Twenty-Two
ANTONIO DIDN’T KNOW if he was relieved or simply and overwhelmingly hurt that Justin didn’t try to stop him from leaving. It was better this way. Now he knew Justin didn’t feel the same, and this way, he avoided any attempts to gloss it over or pretend their universe hadn’t imploded.
Antonio called for an Uber. He said maybe five words to the driver on the ride home. Once he got inside, he sank onto the sofa and stared at the wall. He couldn’t find the energy to turn on the T.V. or stereo. Deciding what to do meant using his brain, and if he did that, he’d have to think about things.
Like his family.
And Justin.
And how his heart felt like it had been pushed through a sausage grinder.
He should call the office. Let them know he wouldn’t be back in that afternoon. Then again, did it matter? The thought was fatalistic, but he couldn’t make it go away. He needed to climb out of his own head before he drowned in here. He could call Andrew, but he wasn’t in the mood to be told to man up and make this work. He could call Mercy, but she’d always been more Justin’s friend.
Did he really not have any other close friends in this country?
His phone rang, and he grabbed for it out of instinct and gratitude for the distraction. He wouldn’t answer if it was Justin. Hurt that it wasn’t him rushed back in, but it was tempered with relief at seeing Emily’s name on the screen. “Ciao?” He winced, as the Italian slipped out. He was so out of sorts, he’d reverted to his native tongue.
“Hey.” Emily’s greeting was sad, but it was still a salve on Antonio’s fractured mind. “Are you all right?”
“Did you call to ask me that?”
She gave a light laugh. “No. I’m returning your calls from yesterday, but you sound a little... not all right.”
“I’ve been better. I’ve been worse.” Was that true? He never remembered anything hurting this much. “But I called yesterday because I heard the news and was worried about you. How are you?”
The Nerds and the CEO (The Nerd Love Equation, #5) Page 16
