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Trained By The Boss: M/M BDSM Straight To Gay First Time Romance

Page 14

by Charlotte Storm


  It takes six months before I stop obsessing over everything that went wrong with me and Griffin as I lie in bed, unable to sleep. Another several before my dreams stop featuring my greatest humiliation, my biggest regret.

  As it turns out, I’m pretty damn good at this office manager gig. I’m super organized with a hyper sense toward detail, thanks to all the training I’d done with Griffin, not just in the bedroom.

  One year after I ran away from my old life, I start my own consulting business. With Susan’s help, I pick up a few clients. Word of mouth spreads like an epidemic after that. I take my hobby-turned-business and make it a full time, legit thing. Even hire a part-time employee. An assistant. A female assistant.

  It’s also a year before I even think about dating again. It sucks, because everyone I meet, I compare to Griffin Hart. And the truth is, no one compares to Griffin Hart.

  Only once do I get far enough to try and have sex with someone who isn’t him. It doesn’t go well. He isn’t gentle. He doesn’t know my body, care about my pleasure, the way Griffin used to. It’s fine. It is. I don’t crave it, not like I did when we were together.

  The thing I miss more than the amazing sex, more than anything, is the intimacy. The way Griffin would test my boundaries, push against them to see if they’d move. He was somewhere safe, someone I could explore with. I’ll probably never find that again. With the way I left him, maybe I don’t deserve to.

  Two years after California, and a year into my business, I receive a letter offering to buy my company. They want to pay me two million dollars, and hire me on to consult and train new staff.

  I stare at the letter, not sure if it’s a joke. A call a few days later assures me it isn’t a joke. The buyer wants a meeting with me to discuss the terms of our agreement. I say yes, because two million dollars is a lot of damn money.

  Determined to make sure my part-time employee gets hired on full-time, I head into the meeting, dressed to negotiate. My suit is a far cry from the piecemeal one I’d worn the night...

  I shake my head, clear the nasty thoughts. Doesn’t matter it’s been over two years. Wouldn’t matter if it were twenty. I’ll never forget that night. Never forget what was taken from me, what I walked away from.

  I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve picked up my phone, stared at it, willed Griffin Hart to call me out of the blue. Or, maybe, for me to dial his number. Neither happened.

  Griffin stopped trying to call me before I left California. And now, too much time has passed where I’ve done nothing. Let my silence say everything my mouth, and heart, were too afraid to.

  I can’t imagine what he must think of me. I don’t want to know. It can’t be anything kind.

  Straightening out my jacket, smoothing down my hair, I open the glass door and greet the receptionist. She leads me to a private office, no windows, and asks me to take a seat. When she offers me some water, I decline. Hopefully, this won’t take long, not that I have a bustling social life waiting for me.

  What I have is a cat and a one bedroom apartment. It isn’t much, my life. But it’s mine. In a way, it’s what I’ve always wanted, always needed to prove. That I could do this, be a man, on my own. If this deal goes through, I’d say I’ve accomplished that goal.

  It’s a win that feels good. Bittersweet, but good.

  As I wait, I let my eyes wander around the office. It’s sparsely decorated and furnished. A few black and white poster-sized photos of mountains, the chair I’m in, and a desk.

  But, fuck. That desk, though. A tingle I feel when I think of only one thing, of only one man, starts deep in my core. It isn’t the same desk. Can’t be.

  Stepping closer, I study the lacquered wood, notice scratch marks that look too familiar. Leaning down until my face almost touches it, I inhale. It smells just like I remember, and I should know. I spent plenty of time face down on this desk.

  This exact desk.

  The office door opens and closes. I start to stand, to turn and face the party interested in buying my business. But I know better, the desk the dead giveaway. This isn’t a business meeting. This is something else.

  Right on cue, a voice straight from my past ghosts into my present, making my heart stop.

  “I’m glad you could come, Mr. Montgomery.”

  Chapter 18

  My body freezes, my blood icing the same way it did that night. Fear courses through me, igniting my fight or flight instinct. But something stronger conflagrates within me, begs me to stay, craves the man standing before me.

  The urge to hit my knees, bow my head, wait for his instruction, is so strong, my legs wobble. I have to fight to stay upright.

  It’s in this moment I know, without a shred of doubt, cutting him out of my life was a mistake. The worst mistake I’ve ever made.

  Maybe forever passes between us, and maybe I don’t miss a beat when I say, “Sir?”

  Flames roll through me, burning just underneath my skin. How can one simple word unmake me, set me right back to where I used to be? Where I should be? Should’ve been this whole time?

  Griffin Hart makes a noise in the back of his throat. Through sheer will, I force the cells in my body to cooperate, make my motor neurons respond.

  Shaking off my statue-like pose, I push away from the chair I’d been sitting in and turn to face my one-time boss, lover, confidant. He’s as breathtakingly stunning as the day I first met him. More stunning.

  His gray hair is longer in the front than I’ve ever seen him wear it. And the impeccably styled suits I’m used to have been replaced with business casual meant for comfort. Still, his linen pants probably cost more than what I used to make in a week.

  “You look good,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets, looking a hundred times more relaxed than I feel. “Oregon’s treated you well?”

  My mind runs over the million things I want to say to him. The scenarios I’ve played out as fantasies, of what I’d do if Griffin Hart ever waltzed back into my life. None of them happen. None of them come close to preparing me for the riptide emotions the drag me under the ocean of denial I’ve been swimming in. Drowning in.

  I love this man. No matter how much time passes, that will never change. My chest aches at that realization, and I know I let Geo, and my own cowardice, ruin something most people only dream about finding.

  Griffin’s brow furrows. His luscious lips press thin. His eyes soften. “Aiden?”

  The sound of my name on his lips breaks me. Wait. Who the hell am I kidding? Leaving him broke me. Him being here now, it does something else.

  Tears prick my eyes, but I’m determined not to cry in front of him. “I’m sorry,” are the only two words I manage before my throat closes around the rest.

  Griffin pulls his hand from his pocket, runs it through his hair, exhales a breath as if he’s as nervous as I am.

  “Sorry about what? About the past two years, or that I’m here now?” His tone is hard. Even. Measured. It isn’t cruel, and for that, I’m grateful. No, it’s more like he’s trying to protect himself. From what? I don’t know.

  I have to imagine a man like Griffin Hart knows how to move on. So why does it seem like this is as hard for him as it is for me? He can’t still care about me. Not after what I’ve done.

  Clearing my throat to dislodge the knot, I square my shoulders, straighten my tie. Doesn’t matter that, inside, I’m dying. This is a business deal. For the next hour, I can pretend this is nothing more. I know how to endure torture. Pain. Humiliation. Griffin and his son have taught me well.

  “Neither,” I say, offering nothing more. “Our past isn’t why we’re here. I’m surprised to see you, actually. I did my research. As far as I can tell, you don’t work for this company.”

  Mr. Hart studies me for a moment. His eyes roam over my body, linger on certain areas he knows intimately. I suppress the shiver of desire slithering down my spine, coiling deep in my gut. Deny the impulse to drop to my knees, beg him to forgive me, beg him to
punish me.

  For two years, I’ve craved the kind of control Griffin offered. No one’s come close to it, the attempts laughable. Or tragic, depending on the perspective and mood. Yet, here he is, less than ten feet away. He might as well be ten thousand miles for all the distance between us.

  “I don’t work here. A friend of mine owns the company.”

  “Of course he does,” I mutter, not surprised that, even after the fallout, Griffin still has friends in high places.

  “I asked him to reach out to you as a favor,” he continues, as if I said nothing.

  Annoyance mixed with disappointment makes me clench my jaw. “So, I’m not here to make a business deal?”

  “You are. If you’re willing to deal with me.” Griffin flicks his hand toward the desk, inviting me to sit. When I don’t take the invitation, he grins.

  Fuck! My ex-boss is breathtaking, his face lighting up the way it used to in private moments. And I hate he still owns me, even if I can never admit it.

  “You want to buy my consulting firm? Hire me on to work for you?” Because working for Griffin Hart ended so spectacularly last time.

  “Yes, and no.” Griffin takes the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Steepling his hands, he rests his chin against his fingers. “I don’t want to hire you. I want to partner with you. Equal footing. Fifty-fifty. I see the man you’ve become. I’m impressed at what you’ve built. On your own.” His lips tilt in a sad frown. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “It is. Was. Thank you, sir.” I close my eyes, try to remember to loosen my jaw, and will my blood pressure back into an acceptable range. Even after two years, calling him sir is still a habit, taking a compliment from him still just as hard.

  If my slip up bothers him, Griffin doesn’t show it.

  “I’m building a startup, one based in internet and financial security. With your talent, and organization skills, I think we can make this a multi-million dollar venture. Might only take a few years. Probably less.”

  “Partner?” I ask, because I’ve never seen myself on the same level as Griffin Hart. “You want me to be your partner?”

  Too late, I realize how that sounds. But I’m not about to take it back.

  Griffin doesn’t miss a beat. “I want nothing more, Mr. Montgomery. Nothing.”

  He pauses, letting his words sink in to all the places I shut off, closed down. Thought would never see the light of day again.

  “After what happened with Geo,” he continues, pointing once more to the chair, “I saw an opportunity.”

  I cross my arms, continue to refuse to sit. I don’t know why I’m being stubborn. Maybe to prove a point. My way of saying he no longer controls me, even if every single fiber of me wants him to.

  “An opportunity is one way to look at it. Glad to see the most traumatic and humiliating day of my life wasn’t completely for nothing.”

  Griffin’s features soften. He breaks eye contact first, as if he isn’t strong enough to face me, to face what happened. My heart breaks at the gesture, because I know what happened caused him pain. It still does.

  Releasing a deep breath, and the tension in my shoulders, I take the seat offered, place my hands on the same desk I’ve gripped and scratched. “I apologize. That wasn’t fair.”

  “No, it was.” His dark, knowing eyes find mine, intense, focused. It was easier when he wasn’t staring. “I deserve that. I knew Geo had been an issue for you, and I didn’t protect you.”

  “He’s your son,” I say, keeping as much of my emotion from my voice as I can. “I understand the choice.”

  “I chose you, Aiden.”

  My eyes widen. My chest warms at those words.

  “I’d told Geo he needed to move out, told him I was going to ask you to move in. I just didn’t think...I shouldn’t have given him as much access as I did. I failed my son, in so many ways. His retaliation was aimed at me, but hurt you, and I allowed that to happen.”

  I scoff, shake my head. “I’m pretty sure Geo’s retaliation was aimed at us both. Your son never liked hearing the word no, and I was never going to give him what he wanted.”

  “Geo’s in federal prison,” Griffin says, his brow furrowing. “Did you know that?”

  I do know.

  I know about everything that’s happened to him and his son ever since that night. I know Griffin was threatened with legal action if he didn’t step down as CEO. He was publicly shamed and humiliated, his name synonymous with sexual harassment. I know he had to sell his house and most of his assets, that he was forced to walk away from his old life in a similar manner as I had.

  “I’m sorry. That must’ve been difficult for you,” I say, instead of all the other crap.

  He gives me a sad smile. Behind his eyes is a bone weary tiredness mixed with deep sadness. They’re both looks I’ve perfected. Can easily recognize in others.

  “What was difficult was losing you.” Griffin reaches into his pocket, removes something small, metallic.

  A key.

  I swear my dick jumps at the memory of being locked up. Denied pleasure. Only to be given something better.

  I lick my lips, a nervous habit I had when we were together. “Wh-What’s that for?”

  “You left everything behind, and I didn’t have the heart to throw anything out. I moved your belongings to a storage unit not far from here.” He shoves the key closer to me. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

  Slowly, I reach for the key, my hand shaking. “You did that? For me?”

  Palming the tiny metal object representing such a huge gesture, I hold it to my chest, the ridged edges cutting into my skin. This is about more than access to my stuff. It’s Griffin’s way of offering me the pieces of my past that were good. If I want them.

  “I’d do anything for you, Aiden,” he says so low I almost don’t hear. He scrubs his hand over his face, shifts his gaze to the desk that holds so many memories. “Anything but let you go.”

  Opening the top desk drawer, Griffin pulls out a small, square box and places it between us.

  “This is yours.” He gestures to the box. “It will always be yours, nobody else’s, whether you choose to wear it or not. Either way, I’m done with it.”

  Done? Does he mean done with me? Or...?

  I slide the box closer, open the lid. Inside is my bracelet.

  This time, when tears come to my eyes, I can’t stop them.

  “I love you,” he says, and could he stop destroying me? “I already loved you when you told me you felt the same, maybe a bit before. I didn’t expect to find you, didn’t expect to fall. And I sure in fuck can’t accept I’ve lost you.”

  My breath catches in my throat as I stare at the bracelet through a bleary sheen of wet.

  “Please, tell me I haven’t lost you.”

  Silence envelops me, the stillness a threshold between annihilation and salvation. My vision tunnels until all I can see is the box. All I can hear is the furious rhythm of my pounding heart. All I can smell is the lacquered desk, reminding my body of all the reasons I’ve never been able to put Griffin Hart out of my mind. Out of my soul.

  Griffin stands, comes around to my side of the desk, kneels at my feet.

  Griffin Fucking Hart kneels at my feet.

  “Aiden, please,” he begs, his voice breaking on my name. “I could survive anything, fight my way back from anywhere. I don’t want to do any of that if you aren’t by my side. And if you hate me, never want to see me again, never want me to contact you, then man up and tell me. I need to hear it from your lips, because your silence has been torture. It’s been worse than knowing one way or another.”

  With Herculean effort, I tear my eyes away from the cuff, cut my gaze to the man on his knees in front of me. The man I love more than my next breath. The man I will always love.

  I open my mouth to say...what? There aren’t words for how I feel, what I need. Simply saying “I love you” back seems cheap, somehow.

  Instead of trying to fit
something as immense and impossible to describe as what Griffin Hart means to me into something as defined and limited as language, I reach for the bracelet.

  The metal is cool to the touch, the weight of it familiar in my palm. I unscrew it, wrap it around my wrist, and hold my arm out for Griffin so he can clasp it. Collar me. Claim me. Make me his.

  He stares at the bracelet, then at me. Seconds tick by. Seconds wasted, where his mouth isn’t on mine, his flesh not against my flesh. We’ve wasted enough time.

  Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, I pull him close and shove my wrist into his open hand. When I speak, my voice is practically a growl. “Lock it.”

  He does. And as he does, his hands shake.

  When it’s done, when I’m his again, I use the handful of shirt I grabbed and drag his mouth to mine. The feel of him, the taste of him, is like coming home.

  I know I’m finally where I belong.

  Griffin moans into my mouth, takes the kiss deeper than I have the guts to. We’re still in an office building, in the middle of the day, where anyone could walk in on us. He doesn’t seem to care. Right now, I don’t, either.

  The whole world has seen us do worse, the video Geo made probably still circulating the internet. And I’m past the place where I feel the need to hide my sexuality.

  Pulling me from my chair, Griffin pushes me until I’m sitting on the desk. I open my legs. Griffin kicks the chair away, slides between them. I grab two handfuls of his ass. It’s just as firm, just as enticing, as the last time I was with him.

  Cupping my jaw, Griffin pulls away. “I’m renting an apartment nearby. Come home with me,” he insists as he peppers kisses along my neck. “There are so many things I want to do with you, but not here.”

  I squeeze him with my thighs, pull him in closer using his shirt. “If you think taking me to your apartment, tying me up, and fucking me senseless will make me sell you my business to become your partner...”

  I bite his lower lip, then suck on it, as my palm skims down his stomach to the bulge in the front of his pants. “...then you’re absolutely right.”

 

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