He pinched my chin and tilted my head back to look at him. Then he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, soft enough not to stain his mouth with the lipstick, before pulling away. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were perfect.”
I smiled and gnawed on my lip again with a strange flush creeping up my neck and to my face. “Thanks.”
A couple of minutes later, Knight walked back in, squatted next to me again, and fed me some water out of a bottle as King fingered back my sweaty curls.
“That was fun,” Knight said, chuckling as some freezing water dribbled down my chin and onto my chest, sending a wave of chills through me.
“It was,” he agreed. “If we’re ever back here and you happen to be here, too, we should hook up again.”
Why did the disappointment hit me so hard? Yeah, I came here for only a fuck, and that was all we agreed to do, but I guess I wanted a promise for more. A random chance for another hookup didn’t seem likely, especially since I worked most weekends.
“Yeah…” I said, trying to sound positive. “Sounds good.”
King eased me off him and stood. He straightened his clothes and ran long fingers through his hair, pushing back his long bangs from his face. Knight, on the other hand, was stretching, exposing incredibly strong abs when his shirt lifted.
“Man, that was fucking satisfying,” Knight said.
“Indeed.”
As they walked out the door, King stopped, turned to me, and winked. “Take care,Andrew. We had an amazing time.”
No more princess. That was done now that playtime was over.
“Bye,” I mumbled.
When the door closed, I scooted back to lean against the wall and looked at the TV screen, still playing gay porn.
Yeah, fun. It was a fuck ton of fun.
So, why did I feel even more empty than before?
The answer was clear. I wanted more of King and Knight.
Chapter 3
Hugh
Itwasrightaftersix thirty in the morning. I was sipping my espresso and going through my emails before my day started. I hadn’t had an assistant in weeks, and it was fucking killing me. I didn’t have time to do this inane shit. Most of the email was junk. And doing my own calendar was hell. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do the small tasks; they were just weighing down my mental load. I had enough to do and worry about.
Usually, I’d sip my coffee, staring out at Washington, DC, in the early mornings. We weren’t close to the Capitol building, but you could see the Washington Monument in the distance.
What I wanted to do was think about that young man from Friday night, not work on fucking spam and junk mail. He gave in to whatever the hell I asked for so easily and eagerly, like he was made to serve me. He bent and yielded, and he’d been so damn responsive. And I was desperate to wrap my fingers around all those fucking curls again.
Andrew had fallen into the role of the princess effortlessly, and he even let me put lipstick on him. But fuck, that asswas pure perfection, and the most fuckable one I’d ever seen. Watching him come and melt against me had been exquisite.
Sometimes the men we played with overacted with their groans, making the sex appear contrived. With Andrew, you could tell he was really into it. I almost hated leaving him there when we wrapped it up. Part of me wanted to carry him home and hold him in my bed. That right there had surprised me. I never wanted to have more than a one-nighter with men or women. For me, sex was a game and a way to… I didn’t want to think too deeply about my constant need for it.
I adjusted in my chair as my cock attempted to harden, and brought my attention back to work, which wasn’t easy. Thoughts of black curls, large black eyes, and sweet red lips kept pulling me back. He was attractive in a unique, unconventional way. He looked Southern European, possibly of Spanish or Italian descent. His nose was large and Romanesque, but it fit his features.
Stop thinking about Andrew. If that was even his real name.
I finally forced him out of my head and focused.
Linden and I had some interviews today and tomorrow for a new PA. Hopefully, we’d find someone soon, so I didn’t have to deal with this small shit that had been overwhelming me. So far, we hadn’t had much luck.
Cross Corp had moved up in the world, and our new offices were stunning. My father, Hanley Cross, had started it from the ground up. Now, he was nearly a billionaire. Still, it helped that my grandfather left my father a tidy sum of five million when he died. The money was invested directly into the business.
I jotted down the meeting time with Mr. Robinson for next Tuesday to discuss the new hospital construction project for PrimaryMed in Reston, Virginia. It was a massive job for us, and it would bring Cross Corp millions of dollars. It would be theirfifth hospital, with two in Washington and two in Maryland. They were finally branching out into Virginia.
