I hate that he looks visibly uncomfortable right now. He's avoiding eye contact—shifting from foot to foot and fidgeting with a pen. No, this will not do. I can not have an employee feel this way. I value Jordan just as much as an employee as I do in other ways. I don’t want to lose him from all aspects of my life, and if this isn't addressed quickly he may consider finding another job. With his talents he would be snapped up in a heartbeat. I cannot allow that to happen.
I swallow past a lump in my throat when I think about not having the chance to see him every day. Even if I never get to touch him again, we could still be friends. We pseudo-adopted a teenager, after all. Surely we can figure things out? We are grown ass men after all. Decision made. Tonight I will pin him down—no, wait… that's the wrong word—I willsithim down and lay it all on the table. I will tell him I've developed feelings for him, because I'm not going to deny it and make him think he's going crazy if he’s noticed something. Then, I will explain that I think it's best if we cease the physical end of our situationship and just continue as colleagues and friends. I want to make this as painless as possible for him. I’m not about to put him in the position of having to let me down gently. That shit is just awkward. I can remain professional and process my feelings in my own time. I hope. Who the fuck am I trying to kid? I’m not going to make it through the day without talking to him.
“Okay, I think that's everything. Have a wonderful week, everybody, and remember my door is always open.” I repeat the same closing statement at the end of every meeting. My mouth must move on muscle memory, because my brain feels like it's in a blender. “Jordan, can you hold back a few moments?”
My request catches him just before he reaches my office door. He stills with his back to me and I watch his shoulders lift and lower like he's taking a deep calming breath. Fuck, I hate that he feels the need to do that around me.
The lump that was in my throat is now a ball heavy in my stomach. I want nothing more than to get up from behind this desk and cross the room to take him into my arms. I want to see his smile and laugh at his banter. This subdued version of my Lashes is wrong on so many levels. This man was made to stand out, and he does it so fucking well. I can see now I've been a lucky bastard to be able to bathe in his light as long as I have. Really, the very last thing I want to do is snuff out that life.
My office is probably the worst place to have any kind of personal conversation. John Novak himself would likely chew my ass out for what I’m about to do, but I simply cannot watch this man who has become so integral in my life lose his sparkle.
“Shut the door, please,” I ask, before he turns to face me. I quickly hit the privacy on the remote for the blinds. We do not need an audience for this.
I watch Jordan take one more deep breath before turning my way, and the look in his light chestnut eyes almost breaks me. I had planned to stay seated with my desk between us for this, but the sense of shame and confusion I’m seeing in his eyes has me up and out of my seat faster than I thought possible. Without any real thought, I wrap my arms around him and hold him firm against my chest as I speak against his hair—always careful not to mess it up, of course.
“Jordan, I am so sorry. I never wanted you to feel out of place. I know that me catching feelings for you was not what we agreed on.” My damn voice is already starting to shake. “This is ameissue. It's no reflection on your position as an employee. I know you are happy here and I don’t want to see that sad look on your face. You have truly brightened up everybody’s life here.” I squeeze him tighter, hoping to suffocate the pain in my chest. I really don’t want to say this next part. “You don’t have to worry, okay. We can easily continue working together. I do hope we can still be friends outside of work, though. I don't ever want you running away to avoid me or feeling uncomfortable with my presence. I give you my word I will not force my feelings upon you.” I stress this by pulling back slightly and tilting his face up so his eyes can meet mine.
The man who has cornered the market on flipping the script gazes up at me with the biggest, most goofy grin I've ever seen. It makes me pause and stare back. He’s not upset, nor confused now. He’s… he’s fuckinglaughing. The ball in the pit of my stomach sours and I pull away from him. I never took Jordan to be callous, but he islaughing right in my face.
Small, perfectly-manicured hands grab hold of my arms and halt my escape. All I can do is watch as those hands move to my tie then tug just enough to have me leaning closer. It’s only then that I realize there is no mocking in that smile. His eyes, ever so expressive, have nothing but pure desire and heat in them.
“Kiss me, you idiot,” he says.
He’s so close that his words whisper against my lips. It takes just a few seconds more for them to reach my addled brain, then I’m on him. I don’t exactly have any idea what this means, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. My hands snap up from my sides to rest against his cheeks. I move into him, pushing forward till he’s pinned against the door. The way his cock is growing harder against my inner thigh makes me hiss against his lips and kiss him harder. I feel like my brain has gone offline. Nothing matters. Not the office, not the staff outside the door, and definitely not the rules we had in place. The only thing that exists right now is his lips on mine.
I’ve kissed a lot of men in my life, and a few women too. This kiss is erasing them all. Our tongues dance, and—just like when we fuck—Jordan submits to me so beautifully, letting me take control and explore every inch of that mouth. The soft moans and whimpers I'm drawing from him are music to my ears. I never want it to end. I want to fuse us together and just carry on the rest of the day like this.
I register his hands now. Roaming over my body. Pausing here and there to pinch a nipple or grip my shirt to pull me closer. We really should stop. This is a place of business. Not that I would even notice if the phone rang or somebody knocked on the door. My head is swimming in Jordan. My erection is pulsing. I can feel the wet patch in my pants where precome is trying to dissolve the material confining my cock. Any second now, my body will catch up to what is niggling at the back of my brain, and I will pull away and act like the professional I am.Any second now. It’s not until Jordan skims his hand down over the dick imprint on my pants—causing a loud groan to escape my lips—that we actually stop. Fuck, there is no way somebody didn’t hear that.
With my forehead pressing against his, I look down at Jordan and take in his kiss-swollen lips and the red marks where my stubble has irritated his soft skin. I brush a thumb over it lightly as I try to suck air back into my lungs.
“We should probably talk, huh?” I ask, my lips spreading into a smile. He nods and rises up to drop one last kiss against my lips.
“Dinner at my place tonight, Dimples. Seven p.m. Do not be late.” And with a final wink, he slips out from between my body and the door and smoothly makes his exit into the hallway like he didnt just blow my fucking mind.
I fall against my office door. I’m still somewhat panting for breath as I rub my hands over my face. I knew I had caught feelings for Jordan. I couldn’t tell you the exact moment it happened, but I sure as fuck know that this moment right here is the point of no return. I can’t walk away from this now. Lashes is mine, and he is just going to have to get used to it.
CHAPTER 15
Jordan
I’m pretty sure I just left scorch marks on the tiled floor as I exited Eric's office and made a beeline for the men's bathrooms. Locking myself inside the first stall I come to, I flip down the lid and drop onto the seat. My elbows rest on my knees with my head in my hands as I try to breathe and calm the fuck down. Ever since the whole Blake thing, no matter what I do I can’t stop these damn fucking butterflies when I so much as think about Eric. I’ve been acting weird around him because I have no idea what to do with these new-found feelings. I feel like I’ve been tied up in knots over the whole thing. Like if I looked at him too long he’d see the hearts there and just fire me.
I wasn't ready for this. I'd fully intended to talk to Eric and smooth this shit out before people around the office started to notice the tension and awkwardness. But all notion of conversation went out the window when I saw how torn up he was about me. He was clearly concerned and scared that I was feeling uncomfortable. I mean, I was, but it was of my own making. I had no idea that he had feelings for me. He obviously had no idea I had feelings for him. We are two oblivious fools. I sensed every one of his emotions in vivid detail when he hugged me. His embrace squeezed a part of my heart into place.
The second his lips touched mine—as corny as it sounds, and I fucking hate corny—I saw fireworks behind my eyelids and every inch of my body lit up like a Christmas tree. I have no idea if I am in love with Eric. I don’t even really know what love feels like. But that kiss meant so much more than any of the other hurried, perfunctory ones we have shared before. Which meant I needed to make a swift exit before I dropped to my knees and begged him to fuck my face.
So, here I am hyperventilating in the men’s bathroom. That's a normal response to a kiss like the one we just had, right? Is that how couples feel when they kiss each other that way? Shit… are we a couple now? I have a weird feeling we have been a couple for a while and just never cottoned onto it.
I take a deep breath. In for four, hold for four, then out for four. Okay. I can do this. I can get through the day. Keep myself busy with cases and then go home and cook dinner for my boyfriend. Hey, look at that: I said ‘boyfriend’ and I didn’t want to throw up. Progress. Hell, maybe we aren't even boyfriends. Maybe we are just work buddies who kiss now. What I do know is that I'm not going to get any answers sitting here, that’s for sure. I need to just bide my time, then have a freak out later in the privacy of my own apartment.
Easier said than done, of course. I proceed to fuck up all day long because my mind is already going over what the fuck I’m going to say to Eric later. I’ve misfiled two documents and called the wrong client three fucking times before I’ve given up and taken a break. I usually head to the coffee place down the street if I’m not sharing lunch with Eric, but today I don't even have the brain power for that. Throwing myself into a seat in the break room, I look longingly over at the coffee machine in the hope it will become sentient and make me coffee without my needing to get up. When, after a few moments my glaring hasn’t in fact turned the machine into a living object, I reluctantly haul myself across the room and hit the button.
“Damn, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”
I almost jump out of my skin as Maddie walks into the break room. I was so lost in thought that I didn't even hear her heels click-clacking on the tiles. She’s looking at me with a smirk, her arms folded across her chest pushing her ample cleavage up a notch. She looks fabulous as always, in a fitted ladies’ power suit with a powder blue chiffon shirt under her jacket.
“Come on, out with it!” she demands. “What has Eric done and how badly do I need to fuck up his lunch order this week?”
