Jude thrust into him, hard at first, then tantalizingly slow. He writhed and raked his nails down Jude’s back.
“Fuck me. Come on.”
He dug into the thick meat of Jude’s muscular shoulders and impaled himself on Jude’s dick.
“I’ll try,” he said faintly.
He made his good-byes, hung up, and cradled his head in his hands. With over an hour before his meeting with Pryce, he shook off his thoughts and dived into the assignment from Jude. One account was a European candy company looking to expand into the US, and the other was an insurance company. He enjoyed reading about the different projects, and as he wrote up Jude’s notes, he detailed his own, on a different document, formulating his ideas for campaigns as if he’d been the one working on them.
The files saved, Mason made a list of all the people he’d contacted and their social-media profiles, then left his office. A quick glance into Jude’s space found him on a call with a smile on his face, and when Mason passed by the open door, he heard Jude chuckle. He hated himself for spying, but he couldn’t resist and stopped to listen.
“I’m happy to come by during the day if it makes you feel better. No one has to know.…Yes, I’ll see you at six thirty also.…Don’t worry, you’re not being too demanding.…I don’t mind. Anything for you.”
Who the hell was Jude talking to? Was he seeing someone on the sly and sneaking away for an afternoon quickie?
Alarmed by his annoyance and the flash of jealousy, Mason strode down the hall and found Pryce’s office. The door was closed, and he rapped twice.
“Come in.”
The office was as cut-and-dried as Pryce himself. No pictures, plants, or anything personal. Pryce’s pale gaze flicked over him.
“Oh, right. I’d almost forgotten you were here.”
The way to deal with assholes, Mason had learned, was to kill them with kindness.
“And yet I’ve been called unforgettable by so many.” Without waiting to be invited, Mason eased into the chair by the small conference table tucked behind the door and set his laptop before him. “I have some updates for you.”
“Updates?”
“Yes, based on what we discussed at yesterday’s meeting.”
Finally giving Mason his attention, Pryce joined him and sat across the table. “Yesterday’s meeting. Where you tried to upstage me.”
Calm your dick, buddy.
“That’s not true. Jude asked me what I thought about the campaign, and I gave him my honest opinion. As his assistant, that’s what I’m there for. To bounce ideas back and forth.”
“Is that so? Well, if you think—”
Annoyed with Pryce’s whining, Mason lashed out. “What I’m thinking is that we need to get this straightened out, so Jude doesn’t get pissed at both of us. Now let’s do the work we’re here for.”
“That’s the point. Managing campaigns is my job.”
“Then start doing it.” Pissed off, Mason slammed his fist on the desk. “I have ideas. I don’t give a shit who gets the credit. I’m here for The Company, and I don’t want your job. I have one. Got it?”
Lips thinned, Pryce jerked his head at the laptop. “Show me what you have.”
* * *
“You’re still here?”
Jude stood in his doorway. Mason glanced at the clock, shocked to see it was approaching six thirty.
“I guess I am.” He rubbed his eyes and stretched the kinks from his back. “Damn, I haven’t moved in two hours.”
“I didn’t figure to see you once five o’clock hit.”
Irritated, Mason saved his files and shut his laptop. “Why is that?”
