“You think I’m bullshitting you?” Ericasks.
“Maybe flattering me is a better word forit.”
“I don’t flatter unless it’s warranted. Speaking of your value, when are you supposed to hear back about that job you interviewedfor?”
“Any day now,” I say. “Although I admit, I’m a little nervous. I figured they would have called me bynow.”
“They’ll call.” He sounds awfully sure of that for a guy who knows nothing about this company or my own skills. “From what you’ve told me, you sound more than qualified for theposition.”
“Well, qualifications aren’teverything…”
He nods, and I know it’s because, being in his position and as successful as he is, he must know there’s more to the world thanthat.
“I won’t lie,” he says. “I’ve been in business long enough to know that’s true. There’s a lot of dumb shit that stands between a hard worker with the skills and a bunch of dummies who don’t know what the hell they’re doing. Nepotism, corporate red tape, applicants who can lie better than ever before. But obviously, being a man who believes in value, I believe that even if you don’t get this job, you’ll be able to land one that works for you. Because I’ve also been in business long enough to know how fucking hard it really is to find someone who can do their damn job. Take the old man’s word forit.”
He’s obviously referring to when I mentioned how much older he is thanme.
“Don’t give me grief about that. Comeon.”
“You like it when I give you grief. Admitit.”
I reallydo.
The conversation shifts away from our jobs and back to the past, us sharing stories from our college days, separated by a good stretch of time. He tells me about the trouble he used to get into with his buddies, and I tell him about some of my own issues with peers andteachers.
By the time we step out of the elevator in his condo building and head down the hall, I’m in the middle of telling him about a teacher who accused me of plagiarizing a paper in high school. It’s one of those canned stories I’ve told God-knows-how-many-people since it happened. “I guess she figured that some sophomore couldn’t have known as much as I did about programming because she googled some of the paper and discovered this forum online where it was worded exactly like I had. She didn’t realize I was the one in that discussion forum. When I showed her I could log in to the account, she started changing her tune. That was fairlygratifying.”
“I bet,” he says as he unlocks the door to hisunit.
Even as I’m telling my story, this tension starts rising within me. What are we going to do now that we’rehere?
As soon as he opens the door, the energy between us shifts. We were having this lighthearted discussion, playful even. And in an instant, it feels so much more serious, so much more intense, especially as I step inside and he closes the door behind me. When I turn to him, he’s looking at me again, his gaze unwavering. It’s like I can feel his desire—potent, all-consuming…filled withlust.
He looks like he’s thinking the same thing I am: what the fuck do we donow?
He lets his backpack fall off his shoulder, onto the floor. He approaches, only taking his eyes off mine to look me up and down. He lifts his hand and runs his thumb across my cheek, and I get chills up my back at the gesture. It’s so different from that first experience we shared. So different from hot, frenzied kisses and trying to pry one another out of our clothes. Strange as it feels, I like the sensation itstirs.
“You’ve got the prettiest face, Jesse. That adorable subtle cleft in your chin, the most kissable lips, and these eyes...God, these fuckingeyes.”
I want to turn my gaze, but at the same time, knowing he likes it makes me want to leave it there for him to enjoy, toappreciate.
He cups his hand behind my head and moves forward, pressing his lips against mine. While his touch is soft, this kiss is that same wild, feral, primal kiss—like that first one we shared. Like he desperately craves mymouth.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around him and pull his hard body close, probing his back muscles with my fingers. His muscles tense up as he hooks his arm around me and draws me in before his hand makes its way down to the hem of myshirt.
I put my hand on his crotch, feeling his girth. It’s so fucking big. I imagine what that would be like totake.
I feel him grin before he asks, “You even more curious now that you know how good it canfeel?”
“Fuckyeah.”
I’m intrigued but anxious, worriedeven.
He pulls away and takes my hand, and I feel a tingle like when he put his hand to myface.
“Come on, Jesse.” The sound of my name on his tongue sends another rush of excitement through me. He walks me to the guest bedroom he’s been staying in. When we get inside, he closes thedoor.
I pull my shirt off and start to unfasten my fly when he turns around. He’s still fully clothed, not showing any indication that he’s going to startundressing.
