Mel coughs out a laugh. She’s in a stylish gray suit, and she’s holding her phone in one hand. “Leg day, is it?”
I find a hand towel and use it to clean myself better. My brain is racing, but I can’t put a single thought together. I’m still dizzy with the force of the orgasm that just roared through me, my nerves singed and my dick sensitive and leaking.
And my friend and business partner is here. Just great.
“I don’t remember inviting you over.”
Mel gives me a look. “Taking an attitude today? Bold choice, Troy.”
I look over to Orlando. He’s pulling his shirt on, and once he does, he quickly turns. “I really should go.”
Mel nods. “I’ll do my best to forget I saw you here in the first place.”
“Greatly appreciated, thank you,” Orlando says as he hurries toward the door. He swoops up his bag and turns, backward jogging. “Thanks for the workout, Mr. Frisk,” he adds and fucking winks on the way out.
I might as well just die now.
When I turn back to Mel, she’s not amused. “You know, if I were to sleep with a client, you would have my goddamn head.”
“Please don’t start.”
I’m reeling, but I shouldn’t be. There’s a carnal desire and curiosity awake in me, and it’s getting harder to ignore.
Mel frowns. “Don’t start? It would be one thing if you were behaving reasonably. Prudently. But I know you met Orlando in a bathroom, Troy.”
“We met in the bar,” I say, annoyed. “We moved to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Mel looks exasperated. “Orlando came to us because Zeke thinks he needs to learn to take his career more seriously. He’s hardly what I’d consider discreet, and have you even put a moment of thought to the way you’re risking our relationship with Zeke right now? Hell, you’re toying with the reputation of our agency!”
“I know!” I bark out. “Do you seriously think I don’t know that?”
I huff. I don’t need her to tell me what a total fuck-up I’m acting like. I’m already well aware. Reputation is everything in this business, and I’ve worked like hell for mine.
“I have no idea what you’re thinking,” she says. “The Troy I built my business with doesn’t carry on secret relationships with closeted male clients who are nearly half his age.”
“He’s not nearly half my age. He’s in his late twenties.”
“Eh.” Mel sucks in a breath. “Mid-twenties.”
“The later half of his twenties,” I say sharply.
Mel sighs and sits on a bench across from me. “What do you got for me, Troy?” she asks sincerely. “What’s happening here? Is this going to be a PR situation? Because if there’s somethingactuallydeveloping between you two, we can get ahead of it.”
The suggestion sends another hurricane of emotions through me. There’s nothing real developing between us. This is lust. Something real would upend our lives.
I don’t even understand if I’m bi or what the hell is happening. Have I been suppressing something? Or is this new? Maybe now that I’ve sucked a cock, it will pass, and I’ll never think about it again.
Whatever it is, it cannot be something real.
“No,” I grunt. I find my water and chug from it, suddenly aware that I’m dying of thirst. “There’s not going to be anything to get ahead of.”
I know I’m supposed to say more right now. I’m supposed to swear this will never happen again, but I come up short.
Everything Mel is saying is right. And what am I thinking, taking a risk like this with Orlando of all people? If I can’t pull my shit together on my own behalf, I should pull it together for Mel, Zeke, and every other athlete at the agency.
Hell, I should pull it together for Orlando.
But logic crashes into lust and something else I don’t understand.
