Maybe Ben needed more than domesticity and sloppy hand jobs.
Maybe Phil needed to put his money where his mouth was and prove he could be worth sticking around for.
“Phil?”Ben peered through the side door.“There you are.”He stepped out fully.He’d lost his tie, now a rolled-up bundle in his pocket.The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his neck and cheeks flushed from the heat in the venue.
Phil wanted to do so many things to this man that he’d never before considered doing to another human.He wanted to bite into the soft swell of Ben’s belly.He wanted to lay himself out and let Ben do whatever he wanted to Phil’s body.He wanted to make Ben tea and give him painkillers when he got headaches from hockey arenas.He wanted to put his head in Ben’s lap and let Ben massage his temples.He wanted to take care and let himself be taken care of in a way he’d never conceived of in any previous relationship—wanted to let all the parts of himself be seen that he’d previously believed to be things he had to protect his partner from.
Phil summoned a weak smile.“What are you doing here?I thought you were getting an in with the illegal betting pool.”
“I am extremely efficient.I can do two things at one party.”Ben stuffed his hands into his pockets.“Also, I can’t hang out with them all night, trying to get more information.They’ll notice.”
Phil had met the owner of the club twice.Once when he got traded to the team and then again at one of these parties.He didn’t think the man had ever “hung out” in his life.But this was the most Ben had told him about his efforts in uncovering the betting conspiracy, so Phil hung on to every word.
“You okay?”Ben asked, studying him.
Phil considered.“I think so.Come with me.”
He took Ben by the hand and pulled him down the hallway.
PR had decked out the whole building for the party but nowhere quite as much as the front entrance, where someone had unrolled a teal carpet for them to walk down as they came in.It was the team color, but Phil did not want to see a carpet in it.
The hallways were more sedate, with low lights and streamers in the doorways.A bag of sparklers beckoned from a basket attached to the PR office door, probably in hope everyone would grab one for some photo opportunities.
Whoever had decorated hadn’t made it to Ben’s office.
That was good.It meant they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Phil tugged Ben inside and locked the door behind them.Belatedly, he remembered his knee would be a problem for what he had planned and looked around for ideas.He smiled when he spotted the high-backed leather chair behind the desk.It contributed at least 30 percent to Ben’s air of authority.He was the most mild-mannered guy Phil knew, but everyone looked a little bossy in a leather chair.
Phil sat in it and pulled Ben closer by the waist.
“Phil?”Ben asked.
“Yeah,” Phil said hoarsely.He reached for the button of Ben’s suit pants.
“Phil.”
“Yeah.”
“You said I had to let you in,” Ben said.“Before we did this again.”
“Actually, I think that last part was more implied,” Phil said.
“Phil.”
Phil sighed.He rested his forehead against Ben’s abdomen.“I don’t want to pressure you.I meant what I said the other night.What I’m offering you isn’t for show.Maybe I wouldn’t move this fast if not for Charlie, but I want to marry you.To have you.To hold you.All those things.But I shouldn’t have said it in anger.So this is me asking again nicely.”
“With a blow job.”Ben’s tone was flat, skeptical even.But Phil found, to his own great satisfaction, that heknewBen in an intimate, personal way that had nothing to do with his real job, his real feelings about hockey, even his real last name.He could see the humor in the wry quirk at the corner of Ben’s lips, and he knew he had Ben halfway convinced.
“You don’t strike me as a flowers and chocolates kind of guy.”Phil traced his fingers up the outside of Ben’s thighs.
“I like flowers.”
“Noted.Do you like blow jobs?”
Finally, the laugh Phil had been waiting for fell reluctantly out of Ben’s mouth.“Yeah, Phil, of course I like blow jobs.”
“So let me show you how good this could be.”
