1. Roland

I'd really screwed up this time. I had no idea how I'd managed to lose the money. I swore I'd taken the guest's payment correctly, but then… it was just gone! Shit. Guilt made my insides squirm, and my hand shook as I raised it to knock on Monsieur Holland's office door. I waited patiently until I heard him call, "Come in."

This wasn't the first time I'd knocked on his door, and I hoped it wasn't the last. He wouldn't fire me… right? It was an honest mistake. It wasn't like I stole the money. Sweat slicked my palms as I turned the knob and crept into my boss's office.

Emerson Holland made my heart race, this was nothing new. Every damn time I saw him, my world seemed to spin just a little faster, but it was usually for a more familiar reason. A more pleasurable reason… The man drove me absolutely wild, and I wasn't even sure if he knew the extent of my fixation. I dreamed about him every night, fantasized every day.

But he was my boss, and that meant he was off-limits.

I stepped into his office, filled with dread, and he looked up from his paperwork, his cool blue eyes making me shiver. "Yes, Roland? What is it?"

Reluctantly, I closed the door behind me with an ominous click. If he was going to yell at me, I didn't need witnesses. My coworkers were a bunch of gossipy hens. Turning to face him again, I couldn't quite make eye contact. "Um, I… I kinda… lost some money." I gulped, my throat tight. "I promise I'll find it! And if I can't, you can take it out of my paycheck!" I blathered, hating the way his eyes narrowed on me.

"That won't be necessary," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. He simply picked up his pen and went back to his paperwork.

"It-it won't?" I stammered.

"No, of course not, as you will no longer be receiving paychecks here. You're fired."

"What?!" I screeched, panic taking control of my senses and leaving me breathless. Black spots flitted across my vision. I couldn't be fired! It was the first time I'd done anything wrong, and I'd been working here for years! This place was like my home, the staff like my family! This couldn't be happening. "Please, sir, I'll do anything! I can't lose this job!" I wailed.

He seemed to go perfectly still, then he set his pen aside and looked back up at me through his blond lashes, his eyes flashing. "Anything?"

"Yes! Absolutely anything. I'm yours to command." Did he want me to beg? Because I totally would.

Emerson leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands under his chin, giving me his whole focus. As his eyes roamed lower on my body, it left a trail of goosebumps, like his gaze was a physical touch. "Very well, Roland. I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement."

My body sagged with relief, and I blew out a long breath. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret this."

"I'm sure I won't," he said, his voice deepening, and as I watched, he licked along his bottom lip slowly, tantalizing, his eyes hooded and pupils blown. Then he reached down and tugged on his belt, threading it through the buckle.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked, gulping, my mouth going desert dry, moments before flooding with saliva. He couldn't mean— Surely, he didn't want me to— My brain stuttered and snagged on the mere thought. He can't possibly mean what I think he means. Even as I wondered it, I hoped to gods it was true. Inappropriate? Without a doubt. But it was also all of my dreams come true.

The sound of his zipper being pulled down seemed impossibly loud in the unnaturally quiet office. "Come closer, Roland," he rasped, widening the opening of his pants, showing the black fabric of his underwear. "Let's see you earn this second chance."

I practically ran across the room, eagerly dropping to my knees between his spread legs. Emerson lifted his shirt out of the way, and I saw the head of his erect cock peeking from the waistband of his underwear, glistening with a perfect bead of precum. He was so well-endowed that it couldn't be contained. I groaned, my own dick aching in the confines of my pants.

"You've been dying to have a taste, haven't you?" he taunted, and I nodded eagerly, unable to look away from the gleaming tip. "Well then, don't stop now."

Granted permission, I leaned in and collected the bead onto my tongue, closing my eyes to savor his nectar. It was better than I ever could've imagined, but it wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed everything he had to give.

Looking up at him for instruction, I paused with my fingers tucked into the elastic waistband of his briefs. "You may," he said after a long pause, and I wasted no time in yanking the fabric down to expose his full length. The veins along the shaft were throbbing with his racing pulse, and my own heart struggled to match the rhythm, syncing our bodies as one.

Groaning with need, I gripped the base of his cock in one fist and sank my mouth down over him, stretching my lips to accommodate his girth. His skin was silky smooth, and as my saliva dripped down over my hand, I was able to work him deeper and deeper inside me, until he was nudging at the back of my throat.

I couldn't believe this was really happening! For years I'd been pining for Emerson. He was everything I looked for in a man, and ever since my first shift here, I'd been hopelessly head over heels in love. No other man could compare. And now? Now that I'd had my first taste, I was thoroughly obsessed.

"You're doing such a good job," he praised, stroking my hair, before gripping at the back of my neck. "But I think you can go a little deeper, don't you?"

Moaning my assent around my mouthful, I focused on relaxing my throat, allowing him to fill every inch of space. He used his grip on my hair to guide me, increasing the pace. Deeper and deeper I went, until my nose was brushing up against the coarse curly hair at the base. "You're such a good boy," he gritted out, "with the sweetest mouth. I've always known you would be able to take all of me." His breathing came in sharp pants, and he was struggling to keep himself still, his thighs tightening on either side of me. I could tell he was getting close. Who knew he had this rougher side hidden under his calm and cool exterior? I had to admit, I loved it.

Using one hand to massage his balls, I reached down with the other and squeezed my erection. Fuck, I could come just using my mouth on him. Slick seeped from my hole, making my ass cheeks slippery. I was going to need to change my clothes before going back to work. Or maybe… I would just leave them like this, serving our hotel guests while knowing my desire was still coating my skin.

Emerson's hips arched off the chair as he began to fuck my mouth from below. "I'm going to come. Will you swallow like a good boy?" he panted.

I wanted to shout YES! or at the very least nod, neither of which I could do while he pistoned into my mouth. Instead, I moaned around him, long and low. My balls tingled as his tightened in my palm. I wanted so desperately to taste his seed, to take it into my body at long last. And maybe next time, he could fill my ass.

"Fuck, Roland. I love you so much," he gritted out, his inhibitions non-existent with all his barriers down. "I always have." I almost pulled straight off to tell him I felt the same. "Yes," he panted. "Yes, yes… I'm checking out." Wait, what? Was that a euphemism for coming?

"Excuse me? Sir?" His voice sounded strange.

I blinked a few times, the fantasy disappearing, slipping through my fingers like mist, no matter how tightly I clung to it. There was no cock in my mouth, no fingers tangled in my hair. I wasn't in Emerson's office. Instead, I was standing at the hotel's front desk, and my eyes were dry, my lids scraping like sandpaper, like I hadn't blinked in a good long while.

In front of me stood a man with a pinched expression. He'd obviously been trying to get my attention for a while. "Can you hear me?" He waved a hand in front of my face. "Hello?"

I cleared my throat, trying to release some of the tension. "Yes, sir. I hear you. You're checking out."

This was such a familiar task that I could do it in my sleep. Unfortunately, I was now very much awake, and no matter how much I longed to slip right back into the fantasy, I knew it was no good. It was gone. Emerson Holland was not mine to have. He was just my boss. The same as he always was, and always would be.