The Dangerous Seduction

by A N Bond

  “That guy, James Pilgrim, he’s a friend of mine. He owns that building and he’s been developing some of the apartments. A couple of them are about to go on the market and I’ve asked him to hold off advertising for now. He’s had a little legal trouble recently and I’ve been able to help him out, so he owes me. Anyway, I’ve mentioned you to him; he’ll do you a good deal.”

  “Oh.” He blinks, swallows again, not sure how to take this. “You’ve mentioned me to him?”

  “Maybe not you exactly by name. But there are other perks to working here, aside from the pay of course.” He pauses and the corner of his mouth quirks up a little, a smirking, amused look sliding across his face as he meets Ryan’s eyes. “I know it’s tough working here. I know the kind of hours people put in and the expectations you all have, but you should be happy in your work, and it’s important to me that good employees are kept happy and they want to stick around. Good employees like you, Ryan.”

  Ryan gapes at him. “You’re serious?”

  “Of course. I told you before, I never say things I don’t mean.”

  “I… Okay, wow,” he says, the words trailing away from him. “So, this isn’t because of—” He flushes, waves a hand, awkward and hesitant. “You know.”

  Joseph raises his eyebrows. “Because I just jerked you off on the floor of my office? Do you think I usually bribe people with good deals on apartments to get them to have sex with me?”

  “God, no, of course not.”

  “It’s a good deal, Ryan, and I promise you it’s legitimate. It would take you years to earn enough to afford to live somewhere like that otherwise. Luckily for you and for me, the NYC real estate market runs on a complex system of nepotism.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true. And thanks, seriously, thanks so much.”

  “Good,” Joseph says. He circles the desk again, moving back toward the coffee table to gather up his papers. It’s obviously a dismissal. Ryan slides the address into the pocket of his pants and turns to go.

  “Ryan?”

  He turns around again, pausing with one hand on the door handle.

  “Dave’s still downstairs. He’ll take you home.”

  Dave drives him home. Ryan watches the back of his head and wonders how many of Joseph’s lovers, no, not lovers, he’s hardly that, but sex partners, employees with benefits—the thought makes him want to laugh—how many of them has Dave chauffeured around over the years? What kind of secrets is Dave keeping for Joseph? Estelle too—he doesn’t think much gets past her. He sinks back into the seat, closes his eyes, and tries not to think about it. He really is very tired.

  To his relief, Daisy’s in bed by the time he lets himself into the darkened apartment. He heads straight for the shower. He doesn’t think as he soaps himself off, ridding his body of any telltale smells. He towels off perfunctorily, then pads to the bedroom. He doesn’t bother looking for clean underwear but just slides into bed naked.

  “Ryan?” Daisy whispers, twisting onto her side to look at him. “Didn’t think you’d be back.”

  “Shh, go to sleep,” he tells her.

  To his relief, she nuzzles back into the pillow and closes her eyes.

  Chapter 5

  Two months later….

  IT’S DARK when Ryan gets out of bed. Daisy is still sleeping peacefully, curled up under the brand-new comforter her parents bought them as a housewarming gift. He tiptoes to the bathroom where he left his running clothes the night before, tossed over the towel rail alongside the big fluffy bath towels that were the other gift from Daisy’s parents. He pulls on his track pants and T-shirt, collects his running shoes from the closet in the hallway, and leaves the apartment. He tugs on his sneakers in the elevator, skips out into the marble-tiled lobby, nodding to their doorman, Frankie, and runs out into the dark early morning. He does two circuits of the block, his heart thumping wildly in his chest on a mixture of adrenaline and excitement. The second time he passes the front door of his building (his new Upper East Side building—that thought never gets old), he changes direction and heads south.

  Joseph opens the door to him dressed in workout gear. His mouth is pink, his face is flushed, and his eyes crinkle when he says, “What took you so long?”

  Ryan doesn’t answer but surges forward, letting the door slam closed behind him. He pushes Joseph up against it and kisses him with breathless, sweaty need. Joseph moans, twists out of his grasp, and sinks to his knees, pushing up Ryan’s T-shirt with hot, eager fingers. Ryan stumbles back against the door and sighs as he feels Joseph’s mouth fasten to the gap between the hem of his T-shirt and his waistband, pressing kisses across his warm, sweaty skin.

  Joseph yanks down Ryan’s pants and his cock is there, bobbing and slapping wetly against Joseph’s cheek. Joseph chases after it, gripping the base with his fist and pressing a quick, oddly tender kiss to the blood-red crown before he swallows it down, his eyes falling closed, lashes spidery black against his flushed cheeks.

  Ryan comes right there, pressed up against the door of Joseph’s apartment with Joseph’s mouth around his cock. Joseph slides off and licks his lips. He tilts his head back to gaze up at Ryan with dazed, hungry eyes. Ryan reaches down, fists his hand in Joseph’s workout shirt, and tugs him up. He presses their mouths together and tastes his own come on Joseph’s tongue.

  They make it to the bedroom this time. He pushes Joseph backward onto the bed and slides off his track pants. He tugs up Joseph’s shirt until it’s bunched under his armpits and goes to work on Joseph’s cock with teasing licks, puffing soft breaths over his belly button and treasure trail. He nuzzles his face into the crease between Joseph’s thigh and groin and breathes him in. He smells hot, damp, and pungent, sweaty from his workout, and Ryan loves it. Joseph’s pubic hair tickles his cheek and Joseph’s cock slaps against the side of his face, close to his ear. He tongues at the wiry hair and sucks Joseph’s balls into his mouth, dragging his tongue over the soft wrinkled flesh.

  Joseph writhes and gasps Ryan’s name. He tangles his fingers in the sheets, and curses, begging and pleading with Ryan to finish him. Joseph Van Aardt, the guy who can ruin the lives of multibillionaires, is begging Ryan. Joseph Van Aardt is at his mercy, letting Ryan do things to him that no one else gets to do. It makes Ryan feel powerful and heady and in control in a way he never has before, and he can’t get enough of it.

  This thing between them has been going on for over two months now, and Ryan knows with a creeping, exhilarating kind of inevitability that he’s in this for the long run. He can’t get enough of this. Whatever they started in Houston all those weeks ago has become as essential as a new addiction. His body craves Joseph; he thinks about him and about this incessantly. He’s willing to risk his relationship with his sweet, perfect girl for this. Every time he walks through the door of his and Daisy’s apartment, every time her name and photo appear on his phone, his stomach knots up with guilt and he promises himself that he will end it. But he doesn’t. He’s not even sure he can anymore.

  When it’s over, Joseph groans and slides up the bed to collapse down next to him. It’s only 6:00 a.m. and most people are still sleeping. Daisy will still be sleeping, alone in their bed at their apartment only six blocks away. Joseph looks down his body, cups his sticky, shiny cock, and angles his head to grin up at Ryan.

  “I am so fucking glad I taught you how to do that,” he says.

  Ryan laughs and props himself up on one elbow to look down at Joseph. “So am I.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m an awesome mentor,” Joseph says, tongue in cheek. He’s grinning freely, his eyes shining; it’s a look that suits him, and Ryan finds his own smile broadening. He can’t get enough of Joseph when he’s in this kind of mood, expansive and easy and teasing.

  Joseph hadn’t looked like this yesterday. After his meeting with Frank Carson, McNeil’s counsel, and the judge overseeing the case, his eyes were cold and flinty, and he spent the afternoon barking orders and cursing at anyone who crossed his path. The ju
dge had denied Joseph’s motion for an extension, which meant both sides had a week to submit all their evidence. It’s an added stress they could really do without.

  He’d stopped by Joseph’s office before he’d left last night, lingering by the door until Joseph waved him inside with an irritated look. “What is it, Ryan?”

  “Just that I was wondering. Do you still want me to come around? Tomorrow morning, I mean?”

  Joseph had looked up from his desk, met his gaze for what felt like a long moment, his expression giving away nothing. “Of course.”

  He’d ducked his head to hide the obvious relief that must have shown on his face. “Okay, okay then.”

  “Good night, Ryan!” Joseph had called after him when he’d turned to go, and only then had Ryan allowed himself to smile.

  He’s smiling now, though, and so is Joseph, lying there with his palm resting on his firm, flat belly, his fingers idly scratching at the drying come in his pubes that Ryan didn’t manage to swallow.

  “Can I ask you something?” Ryan says.

  Joseph shrugs. “Sure.”

  “The McNeil case, why does it matter so much to you?”

  “The fact that my reputation goes down the crapper if I lose doesn’t count?”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s entirely true, but….” He hesitates and cuts a look at Joseph. “I think there’s something else. I think there’s another reason you’re so obsessed with winning.”

  Joseph watches him for what feels like a long time. “What makes you think you know me so well?”

  “I don’t, but I’d like to,” he answers truthfully.

  Joseph’s mouth twists into a sardonic shape. “Really? You might regret that.”

  “Maybe not,” he says, and his voice sounds a shade defensive in his own ears. “Look, you can tell me to fuck off or whatever, but… I’d like to know. Why do you hate McNeil so much?”

  “Why don’t you hate him? You know the fucking case back to front, you should hate him too.”

  Ryan sighs, half-exasperated. Of course, Joseph is a lawyer; he’s never going to give a straight answer when he can come back with another question or something equally evasive.

  “Oh, he’s a lowlife, sure. But I just… I get the impression that there’s more to it than that for you.”

  There’s a flicker in Joseph’s eye—fear, nervousness? Ryan can practically see Joseph’s brain tick over, searching for the easy lie. He sees Joseph hesitate and lick his lips, that unconscious tell that he’s gotten to know so well. Eventually, Joseph lifts his eyes to Ryan’s face, and with a lurch of excitement, Ryan realizes that he’s going to tell him the truth this time.

  “My father used to be a big union man. He worked for a freight company out of Dallas, worked there for years and years. He got quite high up; he was doing really well, until ’93 when the company was bought out by McNeil Industries. You know how McNeil feels about the unions. He set about breaking them up and getting rid of as many key union people as he could. My father was one of them. By the time he was forced out, he was in his early fifties, too early for retirement but too old for anyone else to employ him. He was out of work for a couple of years until he finally got a job as a motorcycle delivery man. It was a big step-down from what he’d been doing before, but he was just happy to get something by then. He was killed after only four months on the job in a collision with a truck while out on a delivery run. The truck driver was killed too and a couple of pedestrians. It was pretty horrific; it made the news that evening….” He trails off and meets Ryan’s eyes. His mouth twists into a wry sort of a grimace. “Maybe that has something to do with me wanting to see Jack McNeil fucked over so thoroughly.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ryan says. “That really sucks. But I’m glad you told me, Joseph.”

  Joseph pushes out a breath. “Yeah, I’m sure you are.” He rolls off the bed and strides across the bedroom to the en suite bathroom.

  Ryan watches after him, unsure whether to get up and follow, but Joseph has left the bathroom door open and that at least is some sort of sign that he doesn’t want to shut Ryan out completely. Ryan rolls off the bed and follows. Joseph is at the sink and he looks up, watching Ryan approach in the mirror, his reflection giving nothing away. Ryan crowds up behind him, slides one arm around his chest, and nuzzles his mouth into the crook of his neck.

  “Have we got time?” he mutters, pressing kisses over the tendons in Joseph’s neck, and licking at the cooled, clammy sweat that’s gathered in the hollow of his throat.

  Joseph reaches around to grope Ryan’s ass, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a smirk on his face. “We’ve got time,” he says.

  RYAN SHOWERS and changes at the gym. It’s much easier that way and avoids any awkward questions from Daisy.

  Joseph calls all of the McNeil project team into a meeting at 10:00 a.m. They’re a much bigger group now. Practically every attorney on Joseph’s side of the office, which is most of the office these days, is now working the McNeil case. They only have three days to submit all the evidence to the judge; it’s all hands on deck.

  Joseph is sitting on the edge of the conference table as they file in, a brooding, watchful look on his face that Ryan has come to think of as his “work” look. Their gazes cross for a fraction of a second and Ryan feels his skin prickle, a short-circuit of lust that goes directly to his cock, but Joseph’s expression doesn’t change, and there’s no acknowledgment or warmth in his eyes. Ryan berates himself for being stupid and naïve enough to feel disappointed.

  “I don’t need to remind you how important this case is to the firm; you all know that,” Joseph says. His eyes rake over them all, cold and startlingly green—a green that’s lifetimes away from the hazy, beer-bottle green that Ryan remembers from that morning. “I need you all to work all the leads you have, to comb through everything, no matter how insignificant it might have appeared six months ago. I want you to go through all of it again. I’m expecting each one of you in this room to come up with something new for me: a new witness, a changed statement, a new interpretation of some old evidence. I want you to submit what you come up with to me by the end of today. You do that and it will make me very happy. That’s all. Get to work.” He turns his back on them all and leaves the room.

  Ryan calls his father as soon as he gets back to his office. His mom answers, sounding exasperated. “Ryan, I thought your dad told you that—”

  “Mom, is he there?” he interrupts.

  “Ryan.”

  “Answer the question, Mom, is he there?”

  She hesitates, shocked. “That’s no way to talk to your own mother. I thought I raised you better than that.”

  He lets out an exasperated breath, slams his palm on the table. “Mom, this is serious. We are this close to losing this case. We have to submit all our evidence to the judge by Friday or the case will be thrown out. I need to speak to him, Mom! Now, please, tell me—is he there?”

  She’s silent for a couple of beats. When she answers, her voice is clipped. “No, he’s not.”

  “Well, will you ask him to call me when he does get back from wherever it is that he’s gone?”

  There’s no answer from the other end, just a heavy, stony silence.

  “Mom.”

  “When are you and Daisy going to set a date for the wedding?”

  “What?” He blinks, then huffs out a disbelieving breath. “Mom, I’m not sure this is the right time for this conversation.”

  “It’s a fair question, Ryan. You’ve been engaged for a while now. It’s very strange for you not to have set a date yet, and don’t tell me it’s because of her. It’s you; I know it’s you. You’ve never been able to appreciate good things when you have them. Just like that bike we bought you for your birthday when you were in seventh grade. You begged us for that bike for months and when you got it we told you and told you about looking after it. But you kept leaving it out in the rain until it rusted so badly you couldn’t ride it anymore.”
r />   “Mom, seriously, I don’t have time for this.”

  “Well, make time! Talk to Daisy. Set a date. She’s not happy, Ryan.”

  Instantly, his blood runs cold, his grip tightens on the phone. “Has she said something to you?”

  “She doesn’t have to. I know she’s not happy, and I know why. I’ve called your apartment six times in the past couple of weeks and you have been out every time. Your career is not more important than your fiancée, Ryan, not more important than your family. You need to get your priorities straight. You need to realize what a great girl you’ve got there, and how lucky you are. After everything she’s done for you.”

  “Right, fine, noted,” he says shortly. “Well, I’ve got to go back to work, Mom, so we’ll speak soon.”

  He hangs up, teeth gritted, blood crackling in his veins. He’s seething with anger. What goes on between him and Daisy is none of her damn business. And why can’t she see? Why can’t she get it? This isn’t just about him or about his career. This is about doing what’s right. He thinks about the look on Joseph’s face that morning when he’d spoken about his own father. Joseph had opened up to him. Joseph had given him that—some honesty, some insight. Joseph had given him some trust.

  It’s about time he returned the favor.

  Estelle looks up from her computer and frowns at him. “He’s on a call.”

  “Fine, I’ll wait. This is important.”

  “He’ll be a while; you should go get a coffee or something,” she says, her tone pointed and her eyes narrowed on him. Ryan has no doubt that she knows exactly what’s going on between him and Joseph. Joseph has even said that he has no secrets from Estelle. Her loyalty to Joseph is unquestionable. Of course, that doesn’t mean that Ryan has to like it, or she has to like Ryan back.

  He feels his stupid face heat up, and he nods curtly and leaves. He ruins his first cup of coffee, dwelling on the conversation with his mom. He’s still feeling angry, but her accusations are lingering. You don’t deserve her. You’ve never been able to appreciate good things when you have them.