Chapter 5

By Monday morning, Peter was starting to revise his opinion. He felt beyond agitated, his normally sharp mind distracted and unable to focus on work.

It was extremely aggravating. But not completely irresistible. The itch to go somewhere was very persistent, but it wasn’t the irresistible need some of his employees claimed it to be when they had tried to convince him to give them time off. Which proved that either they were full of it or Peter’s self-control was superior. Probably both.

Peter was half-tempted to ignore the issue altogether, to prove that it could be done, but he couldn’t deny that he was… somewhat curious. He might not believe in soulmates, but who could possibly be considered a perfect match for him? Had the person not been so close, Peter wouldn’t have bothered to look for them. But they were close. And he couldn’t entirely suppress his curiosity.

So when the itch to go somewhere lessened at 7:12AM before entirely disappearing, Peter called security and asked for the names of the people who entered the building in the past few minutes.

“Eh, I’m not sure I should be telling you this, Mr. Hayes,” the security guard said hesitantly. “People’s privacy is—”

“I’m a lawyer, Sam,” Peter said, as if that made him more trustworthy. “I’m not asking this for any nefarious reasons. This is a matter of great importance.”

The man hesitated before sighing. “All right, I’ll text you the names in a little while, Mr. Hayes. I’ll need to look at the computer. I don’t know every person in this building.”

Peter smiled. “Thank you, Sam. You’re a lifesaver.”

He hung up and leaned back in his chair, looking at the door. It was 7:19 already. Where the hell was Justin?

As if reading his thoughts, his associate entered the room.

Something inside Peter eased at the sight of him—but he tensed up again when he saw that Justin was carrying a cup of coffee, which he put in front of Peter.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

Justin blinked innocently. “What do you mean?”

“This.” Peter gestured to the coffee. “If you’re bothering to bribe me, you must have messed something up.”

“I resent that! Can’t I just be nice?”

Peter gave him a flat look.

Justin grinned impishly, plopping into the opposite chair. “Really, Peter. I’m just in a good mood today.”

“And why is that?” Peter said, picking up the cup.

“I have a soulmate!”

Peter’s hand froze in the air. He set the cup down. “What?” he said sharply.

Justin smiled wider, looking at him with his ridiculous eyes. “Yeah. I thought I didn’t have one, but apparently I do. Can you believe that?”

Peter’s first thought was a hard No . He unclenched his jaw, unsure why the idea bothered him so much. Justin simply wasn’t allowed to—he wasn’t supposed to believe that nonsense, much less want a soulmate. The thought was inconceivable. Unacceptable.

“Soulmates don’t exist,” he said, glaring the idiot down. “We’re lawyers. Lawyers deal in facts, instead of believing in fairy tales created to sell trashy books to ignorant and foolish people.”

He had expected Justin to roll his eyes or scoff, but his expression was… sad?

“I know I joke about you being a heartless dick, but surely you don’t actually…” Justin shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m not like you, Peter. I don’t think I can be happy with having a fat bank account and leaving a trail of one-night stands behind me. I want a connection. I’m not saying I necessarily believe that soulmates are forever, but… I really want a human connection.” His green eyes were suspiciously shiny. “I don’t have anyone, Peter. My parents are gone, my only brother hates me, and I don’t have any time for a personal life or friends because of my job. I don’t have anyone. No partner, no friendships, no nothing.”

Something ugly and vicious twisted in Peter’s chest before curling in his stomach. “What about—your job? Is that nothing too?”

Justin laughed, his lips twisting into something bitter and fragile. “I might be masochistic, but I do like this job. I love it. It’s the only good thing I have going right now. But it’s not enough. It doesn’t replace a—a personal relationship, a friendship. I’d like to think that we’re—friends, but for you, I’m just a lowly associate you like bossing around and treating like your personal slave.” Justin swallowed, averting his gaze, his face a little pink. “I want a human connection, Peter. A connection that’ll be reciprocated. This is my chance to finally get it.”

“No,” Peter said.

Justin shot him a startled look. “What?”

“I forbid you to look for your so-called soulmate.”

Justin blinked slowly. “You forbid me. To look for my soulmate.”

“That’s correct.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Justin hissed, springing to his feet. “You can’t forbid me anything, you overbearing dick.”

“Sit down.”

Justin glowered at him, breathing hard. “Fuck you.”

“Sit.”

Justin didn’t sit down, still scowling fiercely.

Peter got to his feet and rounded the table. Justin watched him approach suspiciously. He flinched a little when Peter put a hand on his shoulder, his green eyes fixed on him with something like wariness.

“You’re a capable, talented lawyer with a very promising career,” Peter said, squeezing his shoulder before moving to fix Justin’s tie. It was an eyesore. “Focus on that and I’ll put you on partner track next year. You’ll be a junior partner in three years. A senior partner within a decade. That’s not nothing. A ‘soulmate’ would only hold you back. Focus on your job as my associate. Nothing else matters. Your ‘soulmate’ doesn’t matter.”

Justin’s lips curled into a weird expression that wasn’t quite a smile. “Only you matter, right, Peter? God, you’re such a self-centered dick. Admit it: you like that my life consists of nothing but you and the work you give me.”

Peter chuckled. “Who is the self-important one now?”

“Bull. Shit.” Justin leaned into his personal space, his eyes boring into Peter’s. “I know you, Peter. Maybe you don’t consider me a friend, but I know you better than anyone else does. You like being the most important thing in my life. I’m not sure why you like it, but you do. Maybe it’s just an ego thing, but you like it. You actively discourage me from having friends in the office—”

“That’s not true,” Peter said with a scoff.

“It is. You never let me have lunch with the other associates—”

Peter sneered. “I didn’t know it was such a hardship for you to eat with me in high-end restaurants. If you preferred eating fast food with the other associates, you should have said something.”

Justin gave him a bitter smile. “That’s the thing,” he said quietly. “I don’t. You’ve trained me into preferring your company to anyone else’s.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It is, when you treat me like a thing you own but don’t like. You treat me like a pet you keep on a leash and don’t want to share but refuse to pet yourself.”

“You want me to pet you?”

Justin flushed bright red and scowled at him. “You know what I mean,” he muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

Peter smiled, amused and fascinated by his embarrassment. “Are you saying that if I pet you, you’ll give up on your soulmate?”

Justin glared, something uncertain about his expression, before dropping his gaze. “Don’t joke about it, Peter. Please.”

What?

Placing his hand on Justin’s chin, Peter tipped his face up and studied it, his amusement gone.

“You will,” he said slowly, his stomach clenching. “You will actually give up on your soulmate for me.” The mere thought was… Fuck, it was heady.

Christ, what was wrong with him? Why did the idea of having such power—completely unprofessional, inappropriate power—over his associate made him exhilarated, as if he was on the verge of closing a multi-million-dollar deal? Was the boy actually correct and Peter liked being the center of his life? The thought was disturbing on several levels.

But not enough to stop him from pushing. Not enough to suppress the need to know.

“Admit it,” Peter ordered.

Justin laughed a little. “Wow, you’re actually as cruel as people think you are.”

Peter pressed his thumb against the corner of Justin’s mouth. Justin didn’t seem to be breathing at all.

“Admit it,” Peter repeated, more quietly.

Justin sucked in a breath, his pupils blown wide. He gave a shaky laugh. “I’m not sure what your purpose is. To humiliate me? If it is, congrats—I’m sufficiently humiliated.”

“Just say it, Justin.” Peter looked him in the eyes steadily. “Do you want me?”

Justin’s throat worked. “Everyone wants you, and you know it, you smug dick.”

“Objection,” Peter said, allowing a tiny smile to curl his lips. “The question was addressed to you, not everyone.”

“The objection is irrelevant because the answer is the same, regardless of who it’s addressed to.” Justin glowered at him, his face red. “Happy now? Now stop groping me. I’m already thoroughly humiliated.”

“I’m holding your chin. It’s hardly groping.”

Justin scoffed. “You might as well be holding my dick, Peter. The effect is the same. Let go.”

Peter didn’t let go. He was well aware that he should, that he was edging closer and closer to sexual harassment territory—which was something he was normally very responsible about—but he couldn’t seem to stop now. He shifted his grip, turning it into a caress of Justin’s cheek, perversely enjoying the shiver it elicited. “Look at you. If your soulmate walked into this room right now, you wouldn’t even look at them. You wouldn’t care. All you’d see is me.” Me, me, mine.

“God, I fucking hate you right now,” Justin breathed out, his eyelids growing heavy as he turned his head and nuzzled into Peter’s hand like a touch-starved thing.

Watching him, transfixed, Peter pressed his thumb against Justin’s lips. They parted, soft and wet, sucking his thumb in, and Peter nearly groaned, arousal making him lightheaded. He burned to replace his thumb with his cock.

Fuck. He should stop. He must stop. He was taking it too far. He was the boy’s boss and the managing partner of the firm. He couldn’t possibly risk his sterling reputation and career for the chance to stick his cock in his personal associate’s mouth, no matter how good it might feel. It didn’t matter that Justin clearly wanted the same. Their respective positions made any sexual relationship between them impossible without ruining their careers. Justin wouldn’t want to be known as the guy who sucked his boss’s cock in order to be put on a partner track.

“We should stop,” Peter said, his eyes on Justin’s mouth around his thumb.

Justin lifted his heavy-lidded eyes to him. “We should,” he mumbled breathlessly around Peter’s thumb.

“This can’t happen,” Peter said. To his disgust, it didn’t sound as firm it should have.

Get a grip, Hayes.

He removed his thumb from Justin’s mouth.

“Why not?” Justin almost whined, blinking at him dazedly. His lips looked very red. And shiny. They’d look so good around his cock.

“The power imbalance between us is so vast, I can’t initiate anything without being accused of sexual harassment—”

“I wouldn’t!” Justin protested.

“You might not,” Peter said softly. To his surprise and annoyance, he wasn’t really worried about being sued by Justin. He trusted his associate that much, apparently. “But other people would not see it that way. So I can’t touch you. I won’t.”

Justin grabbed Peter’s tie. He pulled him down by his tie until their foreheads pressed together. “No,” he said, inhaling shakily, his pupils dilated. “You can’t do this. I want you. You want me. I can feel it.” Justin’s mouth touched his, the touch barely there, his lips trembling. “Peter,” he whispered. “Peter.” And then the kiss became hungrier, deeper, his lips clinging to Peter’s, his tongue shoving into Peter’s mouth clumsily, ravenously, as if Justin wanted to consume him, whining, kissing hard, desperate, and needy, curling his fingers around Peter’s tie and trying to pull him closer, standing on his toes to reach him better. “Please. Kiss me—kiss me back—”

And god help him, Peter kissed him. Justin’s moan was loud and shameless, his fingers burying in Peter’s hair as Peter thrust his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deep and hard. Christ, the way Justin opened for him went straight to his cock.

Justin whined in protest when Peter broke the kiss. “No…”

Peter gazed into his associate’s glazed eyes, his cock so hard he could barely think. “We should stop,” he said hoarsely, stroking Justin’s shiny, kiss-swollen bottom lip with his thumb. He was so, so fucking hot. “We’re at work.”

“Right,” Justin said dazedly, staring at Peter’s mouth, before leaning in for more kisses.

Peter found himself indulging him—couldn’t not indulge him, powerless against the desire that consumed them both. They were clinging to each other, lips and bodies, making out like teenagers, gasping and groaning, until the shrill sound of the phone finally penetrated the fog of lust clouding Peter’s brain.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing Justin away and all but jumping back from him. He turned around and took a deep breath and then another, loosening his tie. He felt hot and breathless. “Get out.”

“Peter—”

“Out.” He regretted the coldness of his tone, but there was no other choice. He had to get Justin away from him before he ended up fucking a second-year associate at their workplace. Jesus. What had he been thinking?

“Didn’t take you for a coward.”

Peter went rigid. “You’re forgetting yourself,” he ground out. “I’m still your boss.”

“You’re the asshole who just had his tongue down my throat and is now trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I felt your erection against mine, Peter. You can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Peter turned around and stared him down. “This is my own fault, I guess. For letting an associate have an attitude like that with the managing partner. Anyone else would have already fired you—years ago.”

Justin rubbed his red, wet lips with the back of his hand, his eyes glistening. “Guess what? You don’t have to worry about my attitude anymore.” His lips twisting, he said with relish, “Find yourself another personal slave. I’ll return to my cubicle, Mr. Hayes.” He stormed out before Peter could say anything, the door slamming shut after him.

Peter leaned back heavily against his desk and sighed, looking at the door unseeingly. There was a tight feeling in his chest, almost like panic.

His phone chimed with a message.

It was probably the security guy messaging him with the names of his potential soulmates.

Peter didn’t open the message. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t give a damn about his supposed soulmate anymore.

He wanted his associate back.

He had to get him back.