“I wanna—”
“That’s it. Do it for me.” Zack took hold of Nolan’s hips in each hand and thrust as though there were no tomorrow. He wanted to hear and feel him come. He wanted to blast away the anxiety that seemed to rule Nolan’s life.
Nolan’s body tensed, his muscles shuddering in Zack’s grip. His breathing came out in shorter and shorter gasps, until Zack wasn’t sure how he kept from passing out. Nolan bit down on his bottom lip and banged his head hard against the wall.
“Fuck.”
“Come for me.”
Nolan shook his head.
“Do it now. Right now.” Zack increased the pressure between them, to the point where he didn’t think he’d be able to hold back much longer himself. He wished they could be closer, naked somewhere. It hadn’t been long, only minutes since they’d started, but he was already planning for a next time. His world was changing.
He sought Nolan’s mouth and sucked on his bottom lip, raking his teeth across the plump flesh. Nolan dug his fingers into Zack’s shoulders, flexing and clinging, holding on tighter the closer he got to orgasm. His body was vibrating, and for a moment Zack thought it would never come, that they’d be stuck on this precipice forever, dancing on a knife’s edge between desire and oblivion.
And then, finally, Nolan lost their mutual rhythm. He cried out, his body shivering as his fingers locked in a death grip on Zack’s shoulders. Triumph spurred Zack on; no longer focused on Nolan’s pleasure, he was able to lose himself in his own. He pressed his nose to the side of Nolan’s neck and ground hard and fast against him. The press of soft lips to his temple, the gentle kiss that silently encouraged him on, were all it took.
Hot come flooded his underwear as he groaned long and loud. The pleasure exorcised everything that had haunted him that week. It rolled down his spine, infecting every inch of him with warmth, an unexpected sense of peace.
As quickly as their frantic coupling had started, it was over. He still had Nolan pressed against the wall, his face was still against Nolan’s neck. Nolan’s hand found Zack’s hair; he teased the strands just above his ear.
“So that happened.” Nolan’s voice was soft, sleepy. A lover’s voice.
A lover?
Zack pulled back and let his gaze drop to Nolan’s groin. The gray cotton was now dark, wet with his come. Without thinking, Zack reached inside Nolan’s pants and threaded his fingers through his come-soaked pubic hair, teasing his softening cock. “It did happen.” He swallowed. “We really didn’t think this through. You need clean pants.”
“Damn.” Nolan closed his eyes with his head resting against the wall, his body relaxed. “You don’t happen to have any spare clothing?”
“I might have a pair of sweats in my gym bag. Let me check.” When Zack pushed away, he instantly missed Nolan’s warmth. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Nolan couldn’t get rid of his giddy, stupid grin. He’d read lots online about frottage, but he hadn’t really tried it before. Not on purpose, to completion. Going forward, he would have to correct that oversight.
He and Zack.
It had been an odd and unlikely partnership from the moment they’d met in the bathroom, and yet here they were, engaging in something more than a working relationship. Was this a fling? He’d never had one of those either. Zack was introducing him to all sorts of new things.
His leg was starting to throb, and he had no choice but to sit down on the worn-out bench Zack had dragged over earlier. He hadn’t noticed the pain while they were making out—having sex?—but that was good. He hadn’t worried about his appearance either, about what his body looked like or if Zack would hate any scars he saw. It had been over two years, but Nolan was beginning to feel like himself again.
By the time Zack finally returned from wherever he’d kept his stuff, Nolan’s orgasm buzz had started to wane. Maybe they could do something else. Maybe . . . “Were you able to find anything?”
“Just a pair of shorts.” He held them out, but didn’t quite meet Nolan’s gaze. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want them.”
And in a flash, all of his confidence evaporated. Letting Zack see his leg would have been hard. Letting the world see it was something he couldn’t even contemplate. “No. That’s okay.”
Zack sighed. “You’d rather walk around with come stains than put on shorts?”
“Yes.” Nolan looked down at the floor, letting his hair slip forward to cover his eyes. “It’ll dry and I’ll be fine before I have to leave.”
Zack paused far too long before he spoke again. “This was good.” His tone suggested otherwise.
“It was good, but . . .?”
“We probably shouldn’t do it again.”
Nolan’s head snapped up, a mix of anger and fear shooting through him. “Why not?
It was Zack’s turn to look away. “I’m your boss.”
“I told you that isn’t an issue. Not for me at least.”
“I’ve also never done relationships. Not serious ones. Things always get heated, fights happen, I leave.” Zack scanned the bench, the wall, the shorts he still held in one hand; his gaze never settled long. “I don’t want anything to ruin what we have, our working relationship. Or our friendship.”
“It won’t.” Nolan swallowed hard. “But I won’t beg. If you’re not interested, then we’ll consider this a one-off and forget about it.”
Zack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Monday. We’ll talk then. I need to think in the meantime.”
The joy Nolan had felt since the moment he’d walked through the doors of Ringside fizzled. “Is there anything else you need help with today?”
Zack shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Nolan pushed himself to his feet, took the shorts, and pulled them over his pants to cover the come stain. “Well, I’ll look like an idiot, but that will hide the evidence until I get home. I’ll see you Monday.”
He walked away, ignoring as Zack called out his name.
The trip home was as awkward and uncomfortable as the journey to Ringside had been smooth and full of nervous anticipation. Strangers eyed his shorts at the bus stops, on the bus. His leg throbbed, and the chill from his wet briefs didn’t help.
He took an extra-long shower as soon as he got home; there really was nothing more challenging than cleaning dried come out of your pubic hairs. He didn’t mind though, because the hot water eased the pain, which helped clear his mind so he could think about what he and Zack had done at the gym.
Zack was right that it shouldn’t happen again. Zack was wild, unpredictable, and so determined to maintain power and control, he couldn’t function in a scenario where he didn’t control the outcome. Faced with an unpleasant truth he couldn’t alter—Nolan had a disfigured leg he would never feel comfortable displaying in shorts—Zack had withdrawn his affection and interest. He hadn’t even bothered to come up with an original excuse; his “I don’t want to ruin our friendship” was one of the oldest brush-off lines in the book. The part about his relationships always ending in fights and him leaving had been just as clichéd, but probably accurate.
In the short time Nolan had worked for Zack, he’d learned his boss always found a way to pull the strings in any situation. Nolan was one of his resources at work, a tool he could use to help him control his world and make every business transaction play out the way he wanted. Nolan’s mistake had been thinking things were any different outside the office. Zack had gotten exactly what he wanted out of Nolan, but pulled back immediately when the focus shifted away from gym renovations or getting off.
Nolan couldn’t get involved with a man who was self-centered. In the end, he knew he’d be left behind, discarded when he was no longer needed.
He had too much respect for himself to accept a relationship like that.
Turning the water off, he stepped out of the shower and turned to face the mirror. Even covered with steam, he could still see his broken body reflected back. He’d been relieved when Zack hadn’
t had a condom, sparing them both the inevitable shock of Zack’s seeing his scars.
As he had so many times since the first day he was free from splints, casts, and bandages, Nolan ran a finger along the gnarled fissure of scar tissue crisscrossing his thigh. The skin was white, angry looking, rough, and ragged where metal had torn flesh. Muscle was irreparably damaged, making physio a constant in his life. Tracing the path up toward his flaccid cock, he tried to imagine how Zack would have reacted had his fingers moved a few inches down and to the left. Would he have ignored the scar, dismissed it as an anomaly? Would he have asked? Wanted to see what was there? Asked how long, how deep it went? Wanted to know how it felt when they’d pulled the door off him and drawn the metal out of his skin?
Nolan turned his face, no longer able to look at himself. He hadn’t had a lover since the accident. Despite Tina’s assurances that a boyfriend wouldn’t care about something like this, it was hard to get past. He’d woken up more than a few times covered in sweat, heart racing as imaginary laughter of a dream lover echoed in his head.
No, Zack was right. It was better for both of them if they never let this happen again. Nolan had enough to deal with, without adding a doomed love affair to the mix. Monday he’d go to work, do his job, and forget this moment ever happened.
Zack had spent nearly every moment since Nolan walked away thinking about him. The look on Nolan’s face as the happiness bled from it and was replaced with hurt continued to haunt him. He regretted his words the moment he’d spoken them, knowing they were tactless, even if they weren’t angry. He’d taken that moment—a special and spontaneous memory—and twisted it with a few words.
He might have been a brute in the ring, but his words had always packed more power than any punch.
Nolan was already at his desk when Zack arrived at the office. He had no doubt Nolan saw him the moment the elevator doors slid open, which meant the cold shoulder was intentional. Nolan gave him a tight smile as he walked by to his office, but that was all the acknowledgment he received.
Well, what did he expect? He’d taken advantage of Nolan on Saturday—pushed him against the wall and rubbed off. It didn’t matter that the kisses were mutual, passionate. Zack shouldn’t have let Nolan’s casual appearance and relaxed mood seduce him the way it had.
And yet . . .
Max was right: he was a coward. There were ways he and Nolan could handle a workplace relationship. He could get Nolan transferred to another executive, or have Nancy in HR figure something out. Then there’d be no reason they couldn’t do what they wanted, when they wanted.
He picked up his pen, turned his chair directly at Nolan, and stared. Nolan’s back straightened, but he said nothing.
Leaning forward so his forearms rested on the desk, Zack began to tap his pen on the blotter. Nolan shifted in his seat, the force of his typing echoing louder in the office.
Zack tapped his pen on his empty coffee mug.
Nolan turned his head in a manner that would have made the cut in The Exorcist. “Is there something you need, Zack?”
Zack tapped the edge of his mug again. “A coffee.”
“I brewed a fresh pot twenty minutes ago. Lots there.” Nolan smiled and turned his attention back to his computer.
Ouch.
“I deserve that.” Zack got up and grabbed his mug. On his way by Nolan, he grabbed his mug as well. “I don’t know how you take it.”
“Cream, three sugars.”
Zack made a gagging noise as he turned the corner. “That’s not coffee.”
“Been drinking it that way since I was twelve. It’s just fine.”
He cringed as he defiled the coffee with sugar. “You’re better off drinking pop.”
When he returned to the office with the two cups of coffee, Nolan had turned his chair around, his arms crossed. “I have a sweet tooth.”
“Well, here.” Zack held out the mug. “I hope this is okay.”
It was strange, but Zack didn’t remember ever getting one of his assistants coffee before. Shit, he didn’t remember doing anything kind for any of them. He should have been more considerate; it had nothing to do with role, position, or authority, but rather decency.
Nolan reclaimed his mug and frowned at Zack before he took a sip. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Zack slipped his hand into his pocket. “And I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize—”
“Yes, I do, and you know it. You didn’t deserve being pushed away like that. I . . .” He shook his head. “You might find this hard to believe, but I don’t have a lot of relationship experience.”
“What, a prize like you? The men should be beating your doors down.” The normal bite to Nolan’s words wasn’t there. He looked down into the mug. “Sorry.”
“I earned that. Probably more.”
“Maybe.” Nolan snorted. “I was surprised.”
“About the sex?”
“About your wanting anything to do with me. I know I’m not the most attractive of men since my accident.”
The hell? “What are you talking about?”
Nolan set his mug on the desk, and his hand dropped to his left thigh. “My face never healed quite right. My nose is crooked, and I have facial scars that aren’t pretty.”
“None that I can see.” Zack had no idea Nolan was so self-conscious.
Nolan’s eyes were wide; strands of his hair covered most of the left side of his face down to his cheekbone. He pointed to the long forelock, which Zack had always assumed was a deliberate, edgy style choice. “The hair is more than a fashion statement.”
The air around them changed, growing heavy, still. Zack stepped closer and really looked at Nolan, tried to see the imperfections that caused him so much pain. No, his nose wasn’t entirely straight, but it wasn’t so crooked as to distract from the rich hazel of his eyes. When his eyebrows were both visible, it was clear that one drooped slightly, giving him the appearance of a man always assessing, always thinking of a snappy comeback. His mouth was perfection: full lips that Zack wanted nothing more than to kiss there and then. “There’s not a thing wrong with you.”
Nolan’s lips tightened into a thin line. “That’s naive and hurtful.”
“You said you weren’t attractive any longer. My comment was directed at that statement, not your injuries.”
“You have no idea what it’s like to look at yourself in the mirror and hate what you see.” Nolan stood, leaving little space between them. “You have no idea what it’s like to pass by that mirror in the lobby every day, catch a glimpse of yourself, and not recognize that it’s you. To continuously hear screams in your head whenever you sit too long and suddenly your leg and back cramp up until you can’t breathe for the pain.”
Zack wanted nothing more than to wrap Nolan in his arms and hold him, but given the look on Nolan’s face, he knew the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated. “You’re right. I don’t. I only know the man who’s overcome so much in a short period of time. I see you set your mind to a task, whether you know how to do it or not, and get things done. You’re kind and funny and smart, and you might struggle, but you don’t let it control your life. I don’t think if I lived through what you did that I would’ve come out the other side as half the man I see standing before me.”
Nolan’s gaze slipped away as he gripped the edge of his desk. “I’m broken.”
“No, you’re different. I might not know all the details, but you went through something horrific. That’ll change you.” He reached out for Nolan’s hair, pausing long enough to telegraph his actions and give Nolan time to stop him. When he didn’t, Zack lifted the fringe and looked at the ragged scar that ran along the edge of his hairline. “This isn’t ugly. It’s proof of life. Would it help you to tell me how it happened?”
Nolan opened his mouth, breathed in as if to speak, then closed it again and shook his head. “No . . . I’d rather not. Maybe sometime.”
Zack was surprised at a p
ang of disappointment, but he shrugged it off. “Your call, but I still say it means you survived.” He let the hair fall back into place and went to his office. “So, what’s my first meeting this morning?”
Nolan was still standing where he’d left him, even as Zack reclaimed his seat. Zack watched as Nolan’s shaking hand reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear, then pulled a thick hank forward to mask the side of his forehead again. “You have a call with Chris at the UK office.”
“Thank you.” Zack’s heart raced as he dialed the extension.
The rest of the morning was spent with Zack trying to not let Nolan notice he was looking at him, and Nolan playing with Ralph. The tension between them still simmered, but it had changed into something different. He’d probably said the wrong thing and offended Nolan. If that was the case, then he’d apologize again and offer to find him a new position.
Which was the last thing he wanted.
Shortly before noon, Zack glanced up to see Nolan’s entire demeanor change. Gone was the pensive, soulful expression, replaced with tension. Ralph was set down on his desk and Nolan was quickly straightening his things. That wasn’t normal for him—
The door whooshed open, and Nolan smiled. “Good morning, Ms. Rollins. How may I help you?”
Shit.
Zack got to his feet, all semblance of peace having evaporated in a flash, and met his boss at his office door. “Samantha. I’m surprised to see you today.”
Ignoring Nolan, she pushed past Zack into his office. “We need to talk. Privately.”
“Of course.” Zack cast a quick glance at Nolan, who was already on his computer, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on.
Samantha wasn’t a woman who stood on ceremony, nor was she a person who pulled any punches. When Zack turned to face her after closing his door, he wasn’t completely surprised to see steel in her gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“We have a problem, Zack.”
Working It Page 13
