I was ready to beg for more attention, but then he entered me with a finger, pushing it deep and sliding over my prostate, forcing an embarrassing squeak from me.
“Good?”
“Shut up.”
He chuckled, and I glared at him over my shoulder. “You ready?” he asked.
“More than ready.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he rolled on the condom and slicked his cock.
Nate caressed my ass. “You want to turn over so you can watch?
“No. I want it like this.” I actually did want to watch but I’d already let him reduce me to begging. I couldn’t let him look into my eyes while he was inside me.
I turned away resting my head on my arm. He laid a hand on my back, and I hated how warm and reassuring it was.
“This is going to be better than anything you’ve had before.”
“We’ll see about that.” But I knew he was right because what he’d done so far was already better. So very much better. When we weren’t arguing, he was almost perfect. I didn’t just want him tonight. I wanted him to be part of my life. Oh, fuck, no. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
But then Nate pushed into me, slowly, though he never fully stopped. He moved past all my barriers, physical and mental, and I forgot everything then except his cock and my ass.
“You okay?” Nate asked.
I . . . I couldn’t pull in enough air to answer. I was so fucking full, but I needed more.
He started to pull out, but I gripped his thigh trying to hold him. “I’m all right, I just . . . need it hard and fast. I don’t want to think about anything but fucking.”
“Adam—”
“Please.”
He drove in and I cried out like before. It felt perfect, burning, hot, like I was going to come apart.
He did it again and again and soon I was driving back to meet him.
“Yes! Like that.”
His hands squeezed my hips tightly as he worked in and out. “God, Adam, you’re fucking amazing.”
“I want you to fucking destroy me.”
“Holy shit, Adam. I—”
“Please.” I didn’t care that I was begging. I just needed him to keep going, to not give me time to panic.
He sat back on his heels and yanked me against him. The new angle made him drag over my sweet spot.
“Oh yes! Oh fuck, yes! I . . . I’m going to fucking come. I can’t—”
“No. You’re going to wait until I say you can.”
“Can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You will.”
“I . . .” Goddamn it! He was right. I would, because I wanted to please him. I would do anything for him.
He yanked me onto his cock and then pushed me off. I gave in and let him control the movement. “That’s it. So good, so fucking good.”
“Please Nate. Please I need . . . I need you.”
“I know, baby, and I’m right here, giving you what you need.”
Fuck, he’d called me baby and it almost made me come.
“Hold out a little longer, baby, okay?”
“Yes. No.” I tensed as I fought to hold back. He held my hips and thrust, in and out, angling himself to hit my sweet spot. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, just a little longer.”
Sweat dripped from my face and chest. I bit my lips, fighting . . . fighting . . .
“You can come now.”
Oh, God. My entire body lit up as heat gathered in my balls. My legs tingled, my breath caught and then—
“Yes! Nate!” I shouted as I came and then sagged against the mattress. He’d destroyed me just like I’d asked.
He came right after me, driving hard into my ass. I winced, the thrusts hurt, but I wouldn’t mind that aching reminder of what we’d done.
A few seconds later, he pulled out and I rolled away. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t think, but then he was there again, running a hand up and down my back. “Do you want me here or do you need time alone?”
“I think I should go, or maybe . . .” Did I really want to be alone? My heart was racing and I couldn’t catch my breath. If only it was just the amazing orgasm, but it wasn’t. I wished I could explain it but no words would come. I curled in on myself.
“Just nod if you want me to go in another room and leave you alone.”
How could he want me here when I was such a freak, so incapable of this connection? I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to hold me, wanted his warm body pressed against mine. It terrified me to need someone like that, but I refused to give into that fear.
I snuggled closer as I reached back and laid my hand over his. “Stay,” I whispered. And he did, spooning against me. We fell asleep like that.
We dozed for a few hours. Then I jerked us both off as we kissed. He was the best fucking kisser.
The next time I woke the sun was shining in my eyes. I couldn’t believe how late I’d slept. I turned over to wake Nate but he wasn’t there. Why hadn’t he woken me?
I stumbled to his bathroom. When I’d showered, I realized my clothes were in the other bedroom, the same clothes I’d worn the day before. Great. I was going to have to go home before I went to the office.
I wandered into his living area in a towel.
“Good morning,” Nate said. His bright smile was disgustingly cheerful.
“Um . . .”
“I’m making pancakes. I called Brad and let him know you’d be in later.”
Oh, fuck. What else had he said?
“Don’t worry. I just told him we were meeting over breakfast. But I figured we could just work here.”
Making pancakes? Work here? Like lovers cozied up after a night together. A montage of Nate and me flashed in my mind as if we were starring in a rom-com. Him making dinner. Me taking him out to my favorite club. Us on vacation together. Dating. In a relationship. Me out as bi. My chest ached. Those scenes made up a beautiful fantasy, but it wasn’t one I could have, because I wasn’t cut out for relationships. The night before, Nate had helped me accept comfort and warmth from him, but if we stayed together, that wouldn’t last. No one would want to spend that much time with me day after day.
My lovers never asked me to spend the night, and no one had ever made me breakfast. That kind of domesticity was for other people.
My hands began to tingle, and I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself. My panic last night had been bad enough. I couldn’t let Nate see how his presence was getting to me in the light of day. “No, we’re not working here after . . . whatever this was. I need to go home.”
“What’s wrong?” Nate frowned and started to move around the corner.
Did I sound as frantic as I felt? Act normal. “I don’t do morning-afters. I’m going to run by my apartment. I’ll be in the office in an hour.”
Nausea tightened my throat when I saw the hurt in his eyes. “Adam, I thought . . .”
I squeezed the chair tighter. “What?”
Nate held my gaze a few seconds, then shook his head. “Never mind.”
He looked so fucking disappointed. I almost relented, but I had to stay distant or I was going to lose it completely. My heart was pounding hard now and my chest was getting tight. Was I going to pass out? Please let me hold it together long enough to get dressed and call Darryl. Where was my fucking phone anyway? Maybe I’d left it in my pants in the guest room.
I forced myself to take slow steps. When I found my phone, it was showing ten messages: three from Valerie, two from Brad, and the rest from various people at Kingston.
I called Valerie first, standing there naked, hands shaking, world darkening at the edges. Was I going to lose it completely? Maybe giving the company to Nate was the right decision, after all.
“Adam, are you ok?” Valerie asked.
“Yes. No.”
“Where are you?”
“At Nate’s.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But I’ve got to get out of here.” I was pulling on my pants as
I talked to her.
“I’m in my car,” Valerie said. “I’ll have my driver come by. What’s the address?”
“I . . . Fuck, I don’t know, but Darryl can find out. I’ll have him get me.”
“Is Nate there?”
“Yes.” I picked up my shirt.
“You could ask him.”
“No, I . . . I don’t think he wants to talk to me anymore.” I switched the phone to my opposite hand so I could put my arm through the other sleeve.
“Adam, what happened?”
“We fucked. It was great. Then he made me pancakes and I panicked and treated him like an ass.”
“Ah. I see.”
“No, I don’t think—”
“Adam, I do understand.”
“Fine, whatever, but I’ve got to get the hell out of here and then figure out how to face him in the office.”
“And tonight?” she asked.
“I’ll go home and sulk.”
She sighed. “Right. Shall I join you?”
“No, I want to sulk alone.” I said as I buttoned my shirt.
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
I tucked my shirt in and looked around for my socks. “Yes.” No. “I’ve got to go, okay?”
Valerie sighed. “Don’t hurt him.”
“What about me?”
“Adam.”
“I’ve got to go.” I ended the call, buttoned my shirt, and tucked it in.
After I’d called Darryl, I pulled on my jacket and stuffed my phone and tie into the pocket as I pushed my feet into my shoes.
“I’ll see you at the office,” I called as I breezed past Nate, trying to look preoccupied.
Nate looked up from his plate of pancakes. It didn’t look like he’d eaten more than a few bites. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because . . .” I’m terrified. “We need to focus on work now.”
I stood in the doorway for a few seconds. The pain and confusion in Nate’s expression made my chest ache, and every part of me screamed that I was making a huge mistake. But the fear that was making my hands shake wouldn’t let me stay, so I stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind me.
“Mr. Thomas is here, sir,” Brad announced.
“Send him in.” Several hours had passed since I’d left his apartment, and I’d been pacing my office waiting for him to show up so we could hash through the details of the plan he’d outlined the night before.
When Nate stepped through the door, I kept my eyes on the papers in front of me. “I’ve got some ideas about how best to pull this off.”
“Then explain them.”
I’d expected him to try to get me to talk about how I’d run off. But, I’d never seen him so cold. I’d fucked up, but I had no idea in hell how to fix it.
We worked through a few points of contention. Nate was polite but he never warmed up.
Wasn’t this best, though? A professional relationship. No more fucking. No more making it all personal, too personal, causing me to feel . . . Fuck, no it wasn’t better. I was empty inside.
I’d thought so, but the idea of losing Nate, of facing years of cold, polite meetings, scared me more than the idea of a relationship.
But what could I say? I sucked at apologies. If I tried, the wrong thing would come out of my mouth.
Because you’re selfish and never think you’re wrong.
My chest tightened. I became dizzy, nauseous. I was wrong this time. I should’ve talked to him.
I heard Val’s sensible voice whispering to me: It’s okay to panic, but you need to apologize and admit that you need help with your anxiety.
I’m the CTO of a global conglomerate. I don’t have time for panic attacks.
That’s funny, because you’re having them.
Nate tapped the screen of his tablet. “We should have our marketing team work on rebranding our Entertainment division. Our target market has shifted and we need a fresh ad campaign.”
“I like that idea.”
Nate simply nodded and moved on down his list. Damn. I’d hoped agreeing with him might thaw him out a bit. Maybe, instead, a rousing argument would stir things up. I’d rather have him angry than cold.
Nate was looking at the next point. “To prove I know how to compromise, I’ll agree to eliminate a quarter of the research staff in the Enviro division and roll the others into a dedicated team in Corporate Research.”
“No, half need to go at least.”
Nate shook his head. “I’ve got recommendations for low performers and employees close to retirement age. Those account for close to a quarter of my staff. The others are essential.”
I ignored him. “Your staff isn’t essential if we have people in Research who can do their jobs.”
“You don’t. My staff knows our business intimately. They are best qualified to tweak our products as we move into new markets.”
“How do you know? Have you actually studied my researchers’ skills?”
“I’m not laying more people off.”
“Are you going to pay them out of your own pocket? There’s no budget for them.”
“Then we need to cut something else.”
“What? You don’t seem willing to cut anything.”
“I suggested other cuts a few minutes ago, and I’m agreeing to cut ten people from my division.”
“Ten isn’t going to do it. Besides you’ll no doubt want to offer them packages that will break us.”
He glared at me. “I am willing to use the standard package Kingston offers.”
“Do that for half your research staff and we’re good.”
“Adam, I don’t know what the fuck your problem is. If you’re taking out your anger at me on my employees—”
“I’m doing business. I’m being realistic.”
“You’re being a fucking ass.”
I slammed my hand down on my desk. “Someone has to be. You can’t make fucking sunshine and rainbows out of this.”
“Do you really think that’s what we’re doing? I don’t think you have a clue how hard I work. How hard my people work.”
“I suppose it takes a lot of effort to dream up impossible schemes to save the world?”
Nate shoved his tablet in to his bag. “Fuck you, Adam. When you’re ready to actually work let me know. Until then, I’ll be in the lab talking to my people about something that might both help the world and make us money, because contrary to what you think, the two are not mutually exclusive.”
No, but hating someone and fucking them apparently is.
You do not hate Nate.
No I . . . I love him. Oh fuck no. I’m not supposed to think that. I can’t.
Nate opened the door. Are you going to let him walk away?
“Wait. I’ll talk now . . .”
Nate turned back, brows raised. “You’ll consider realistic proposals?”
“Yes. I . . . I’m sorry.”
The shock on his face was too much. Did he really think I couldn’t apologize?
Don’t you?
I was like the walking dead for the rest of the afternoon. But I kept working on the plan. Several times I called in some people from other divisions for consultations. And even though Nate didn’t seem to notice that I was actually taking other people’s advice, just having someone else in the room allowed me to breathe more easily. The tension radiating between me and Nate was slowly strangling me. Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from watching him work. My stomach fluttered every time I thought about what I really wanted from Nate. Companionship. Intimacy. What would it be like to actually have a partner, not just in business, but in life?
During the remainder of the afternoon, Nate gave in on a few things. I gave in more than I ever have in my life, but he remained distant, professional but with none of the passion I was used to seeing in him.
That evening I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. I hadn’t eaten all day, but I didn’t feel hungry. Part of me wanted to get drunk, though another p
art of me knew I’d be sick after a few drinks, not to mention I’d been drinking too much lately. So I stayed there, almost in a trance. Thinking and not thinking. Seeing my future self: bitter, hostile, alone, arguing every point with Nate, with the board, until I hated Kingston Corp. and wanted to leave.
I didn’t want that to happen. I loved my company, even if I only knew how to show it by fighting.
What had my father said? That I needed to learn how to be a different man than the one he raised, that I had to learn to compromise, to see other people’s perspective, that I needed to do better than he had. That between Nate and me we could fix everything because of our differences, not despite them.
But what the hell did he know? The cruel bastard couldn’t even manage a relationship with his own son.
Ten days had passed since I’d run out on Nate. We’d presented our progress to the board and they’d made some suggestions, most of which I hated. Otherwise, I’d managed to avoid being in the same room with him. We’d mainly communicated through texts and emails since conveniently, he’d visited a customer in LA, and I’d spent the last two days in our New York office, trying to make the lab manager understand how to meet Kingston’s standards. That hadn’t gone well, and I’d been left in a shitty mood. Usually when I felt like this and Valerie was in town, we ate pizza and got stinking drunk.
Tonight she was at the opera, so she wouldn’t be available for hours. The worse thing was I didn’t want to talk to her anyway. I wanted to talk to Nate. I hated the coldness between us since I proved exactly how unfit I am to have a relationship. Morning-after panic attacks must be a deal breaker.
If you’d told him how you were feeling, admitted how serious your anxiety was, maybe it wouldn’t be.
I could imagine trying to start that conversation. I’m Adam Kingston and I panic when offered pancakes.
But I really fucking missed him. He was the first thing I thought about when I woke up and images of him filled my dreams. I’d happily go back to the old days of nonstop arguing just to have him around. Now that we were barely speaking, I thought of things to tell him multiple times a day. I even had pretend conversations with him in my mind and imagined his responses. How had he become so important to me? We’d argued for weeks, had dinner once, and fucked two times, which didn’t seem like enough to change our relationship, but I felt like I’d lost one of my closest friends.
Lace-Covered Compromise Page 10
