“It won’t matter tomorrow,” I whisper.
He loosens his grip on my arm and lets his hands travel down my back, stopping just above my ass. The heat of his body makes me dizzy with want. I nudge myself closer against him, letting his cock poke me harder.
“I know you want to.” I get on my tiptoes, which allow his hands to make contact with my ass. I can feel the relief quiver in his muscular chest as he squeezes my cheeks. I nuzzle my nose against his well-groomed beard, the prickly stubbles sizzling on my skin.
“I’m going to make you come so hard. I can’t wait to get fucked by you.”
Sensing an opening, I drift my hand between us. It brushes against his cock. I reach out to give it a good grab and feel its girth when the familiar chimes of a Zoom call blare from his computer.
Bill steps back. He beelines to the bed to collect his computer.
“We can’t, Tate. We just can’t.” He sits on the bed and takes the biggest cleansing breath imaginable before joining the call.
3
BILL
“Give me one second, everyone,” I say into my camera. Squares with five of my colleagues line my screen. I walk over to the standing desk in the corner of the suite and pray that the movement circulates blood from my groin.
I am hard as fuck thanks to Tate. What the hell was he thinking?
Well, he was thinking he wanted to fuck his boss, I say to myself.
And what did he mean by saying it wouldn’t matter tomorrow?
The standing desk faces out the giant windows, my mind even more of a blizzard than what’s outside. Michigan Avenue is awash in heavy flakes of snow. At least I don’t have to make eye contact with Tate this way.
As I wave to all the executives on the call, I can’t help fantasizing about how badly I want to fuck my assistant. Tate will give his opinion when needed. Usually notes on a Powerpoint presentation or what tie to wear in a meeting. He’s never been this assertive, and absolutely never about…this.
His confidence, his directness, the way he licked his upper lip as if he were literally hungry for me. I want nothing more than to push him onto the bed and bury my dick inside him until sunup. I want to taste his skin and hear him scream my name as he comes.
How does Tate think we can keep working together after this?
“Bill, you there?” asks Randi, our Chief Technology Officer. She’s logged into the call from her home office, the wall behind her decorated with impressive degrees and a family portrait.
“Yeah, sorry. Here.”
“I heard you’re snowed in Chicago,” Edwin our CEO says. His hawk like features underscore how seriously he takes business. Even though it’s late, he’s still as wired to talk as he would be in the morning.
“I…yeah. We’re stuck here overnight.”
“Who are you with?” Edwin asks.
My body tingles with anticipation as I prepare to say his name. “Tate. My assistant.”
Tate, who I want on all fours, that perky ass in the air.
Tate. I want to growl that name in his ear as I make him strip for me.
But I can’t. Tate might be egging me on to cross that line, but I must hold firm. As firm as my cock.
“We’re coming back from MCI.” My voice is hoarse, choked with sudden desire that I can’t quench. Half the people on this call are eager to replace me. I can’t give them the ammunition of breaking the rules and fucking my assistant. Maybe if I were a straight guy and Tate were a woman, they’d call me the man. Being two guys doesn’t afford us the same reaction. I’ll bet the thought of gay sex at all icks out the people on this call.
“I’ll be back in the office tomorrow. We’ll be back in.” I risk looking away from the camera, knowing that the sight of my assistant could rev my engine all over again. Tate is no longer by the bed. I don’t see him in the living room behind me either. Did he leave?
I hate that I had to end things abruptly. I would’ve been gentler about saying no.
Shit. Maybe he’s upset that I turned him down. I didn’t want to. I had to. That’s what the C in C-suite stands for. Cockblocking.
