Seven huffed out a humorless laugh. “Who says chivalry is dead?”
Enzo leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “What time is it?”
Seven dragged his phone from his wallet. “11:48. Why? You got another date in a different supply closet?”
“Uh, Lourdes is waiting for me in the car,” Enzo said, wincing.
“What?” Seven shouted, earning a wide-eyed look from Enzo.
“Do you want to get busted by someone who’s gonna come in here and see us with our dicks out?”
Seven ignored him. “You left one of the owners of our firm sitting in her car in the garage to come blow me?”
“I told her I had to make a quick call to a client.” He shrugged, getting to his feet.
“You’re crazy,” Seven said in a stage-whisper, letting Enzo help him up as well.
“About you,” Enzo countered.
Seven flushed, the tips of his ears burning bright. “That was so embarrassing. I’m embarrassed for you,” he taunted, shaking his head. “From Daddy dom to total simp. I should write a book.”
“It’s called a service top, you little brat.” He pulled up Seven’s underwear and pants, tucking his shirt in and smoothing out the wrinkles. “Besides, the best Daddys are simps for their boy. No?”
Seven tucked Enzo back into his black boxer briefs, returning the favor. “Is that what I am? Your boy?” he murmured.
Enzo tipped his chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Do you want to be?”
Seven’s chest tightened. “Not if I have to stand in line.”
Enzo pretended to look behind Seven. “Do you see a line? There’s only you. Since the day we met, there’s only ever been you.”
“You’re saying I can call you Daddy?”
“You can call me whatever you want, brat.” His expression grew stormy. “I just don’t want you to regret it.”
Seven rolled his eyes, rubbing his palms on Enzo’s silky shirt. “Is this the part where you warn me that I’ll get tired of waiting?”
Enzo glowered at him playfully. “Maybe?”
Seven sighed, then gently slapped Enzo’s cheek. “Here’s the truth that nobody else has been willing to say. If you wanted to, you would.”
“Meaning?”
“You didn’t make her or anyone else a priority because you didn’t want to. If you want to put me first, you will. And if you don’t, then you really didn’t want me to begin with and I’ll act accordingly.” Enzo stared at him, mouth gaping until Seven tapped his chin. “Hurry up, our boss is waiting for you.”
Enzo seemed to snap out of his haze. “Uh, right. Yeah.”
Enzo turned on his heel, making for the door. His hand was on the doorknob when he stopped, then came back, sweeping Seven against him and kissing the air from his lungs.
When he pulled back, he grinned. “I’ll text you.”
Seven fell back against the wall, his knees quaking, pressing his fingertips against his swollen mouth, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Had that really just happened?
Enzo usually hated this part of the job. It wouldn’t shock anyone—anyone who’d spent more than five minutes with him, anyway—to know he wasn’t a joiner. It was different back when he was a new hire. Before life ran him over. But he’d stopped trying years ago. And up until this morning, he’d found this day of the month a complete waste of time.
Mock trial day.
