I cut him off. “Am I wrong? Are you telling me I’m wrong?”
He snapped his mouth closed and blinked hard a few times before looking down at his own handwriting. “No.”
“You’re too good to work for him forever,” I said next. “This is a blessing.”
“I’ve never even tried to look for a job. And I know you said I can work for you, but I?—”
I raised a hand, silencing him again. “It would never work because I’m not foolish enough to hire someone who could put me out of business in less than three projects.”
His cheeks burned, but he didn’t argue.
“If you worked for me, I’d be obsolete before the end of the year.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s not your place to argue,” I reminded him. “But what I was going to say was that I’m good friends with a consultant who recently moved to LA from New York. His name is Cory Callahan, and I’d like to get the two of you in touch. If you’re agreeable.”
Tears filled Silas’s eyes, but they were so different from the ones he’d been crying earlier.
“Yes, please. Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Sir.”
“That’s my job, sweetheart.” I pushed my chair back from the table and came around to meet him in his seat, kissing the top of his head and tracing my fingers over his hair. “It’s almost nine. Have you had dinner?”
“I came straight from work.”
“But you’ve had lunch?” I asked.
“Lunch and breakfast,” Silas answered, his stare on me as I carried my empty wine glass into the kitchen. “Just like you told me to.”
“Good boy.” For the first time since his arrival, a smile pulled at his lips. “Stay right there then. I’ll get you something to eat, and then we can talk some more and finish our night.”
CHAPTER 25
SILAS
Iwoke up on my stomach, the smell of coffee in my nose and the press of Marshall’s strong hands against the small of my back. He was a heavy weight on top of me, nose dragging up the back of my neck, trailed by his mouth leaving a blistering trail of kisses along my hairline. Beneath him I groaned, lifting myself off the bed to meet the hard length of his cock against my ass. He was naked and warm, his body substantial and his cock pressing against me like my favorite kind of invitation.
“You’re awake?” he murmured, rubbing against me like a cat.
I spread my legs as much as his weight would allow to make room for him there.
“I’m awake. What time is it?”
“Too early for you to worry about what time it is,” he said, nipping at my earlobe. Above me, Marshall shifted his hand between our bodies, pointing his cock—which was slick with lube—against my hole.
Taking him at his word, I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. Iwasawake, but my head ached from the embarrassing volume of crying I’d done the night before. After Marshallmade me handwrite my article, he fed me veggies and fruit and made out with me until I was near tears again, desperate to get off. Instead, he tucked me into bed, and I fell asleep wrapped in the safe cocoon of his arms.
The slick, blunt tip of his dick brushed across my hole, but Marshall denied me. He entered me with two slippery fingers, thrusting with his whole body to get in. I buried my face in the pillow and groaned, trying to deepen the arch in my back to make access easier for him, but whenever I tried to shift or move, he stopped.
“If I want your help, I’ll tell you,” he warned, easing his fingers out of me.
I forced myself to stillness, and Marshall rewarded me with the thick stretch of his cock.
He cursed under his breath, sinking every inch of his dick into me with one agonizingly slow and slippery thrust. Staying still was work, every muscle in my body waking up hungry to respond. This was what I’d wanted the night before, and this was what he’d deprived me of.
“You feel…” Marshall trailed off, sucking a sloppy kiss against the sensitive spot behind my ear. He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. Feeling him bare was like heaven. The stretch, the friction, the veins of his cock…
Marshall grabbed my arms out from under me and pinned my wrists behind me, and my eyes rolled.
