“What? Bill, you need your sleep. I can keep searching.”
I take a deep breath, keeping my dick in line. “It’s fine. It’s one night. You’re already here.”
“Bill, I am so sorry about this. I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s a screwy night.” I wave it off, as I do the teasing thought of sharing a bed with Tate. We will put a wall of pillows between us. A thick wall of pillows. “It’s late. Let’s just get back to our room and get some sleep.”
“Right. We can sleep in shifts.”
I laugh and clap his back as he stands up. “We’ll be fine.”
It’s one night. I can withstand Tate for one night.
Unless he sleeps naked. Then I’m a goner.
Typically, executives are supposed to stay in regular-sized hotel rooms while away on business. Only the CEO and CFO are allowed to book suites for business travel.
But because of the last minute booking tonight, our only option was a suite. And what a suite it is. A huge bed, full living room and kitchen. The furniture is nicer than what I have at home. In the corner of the room is a mini office complete with a standing desk. In the bathroom is both a shower and a separate large bathtub. A panel of floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the length of the room, giving us a view of a snowy Michigan Avenue and Millennium Park.
The digs are so swanky it’s motivation enough to get promoted to CEO in the future.
“Wow,” I say. Tate walks around the room speechless as shocked as I am. “This is nice.”
“Whatever you can’t get reimbursed, I will pay,” Tate says. “I mean it. This is my error.”
I stroll into the living room section of the room. I peek under the couch cushion and see a mattress. “This is a pull out. Perfect.”
I’m relieved we won’t have to share a bed, though the tingling in my balls feel otherwise.
“Great.” Tate checks it out, but holds off on opening it. “Thanks for rolling with everything tonight.”
“It’s fine, Tate.” I wish all errors were this sumptuous. I walk up to the windows and take in the view. Being up here looking down on the few people stuck trudging through the snow makes me feel like some king.
“I’ve never stayed in a room this nice. There’s something special about a really nice hotel room.” His eyes dart my way before looking back out on the snow.
I go to my luggage and grab my laptop. I sit on the bed and open it up. I’m craving the stability of work to avoid whatever I imagine is happening between us.
“I have a Zoom call with leadership in a little bit, but then after that, I’ll be done. If you’re hungry, we can order room service.”
“I’m not,” he says. He strips off his jacket and hangs it up, giving me a nice view of his tight-fitting wardrobe. I gulp back a heavy lump in my throat.
Tate taps on his phone. “I moved all of your morning meetings tomorrow. I assume we’ll go to the office straight from the airport when we land.”
“Good thinking. I’m going to turn in shortly after my call. I suggest you do, too. We have an early flight and then a full day at the office. I’m going to prep for this call in a little bit. Is there anything else you need from me?”
“Actually, there is something.” Tate speeds over to the bed, a nervous bounce in his step. He fixes those moony eyes on me. “I want you to have sex with me tonight.”
2
TATE
My friends put things like “Visit Italy” and “Run a Marathon” on their bucket lists. On my bucket list?
Fuck my insanely hot boss.
It’s been on my list for two years, ever since I interviewed for an executive assistant position and sat across from Bill Crandell. Most of the executives I’ve worked for were really old, or in really bad shape, or just really awful human beings. Bill is none of those things.
He’s only about nine years older than me. Not “about.” I know when his birthday is. He’s eight years, seven months, and two days older than me. He makes forty-four look good.
