1. Chapter 1

ATLAS

“Please Daddy,” I whine playfully, my fingers digging into the rich mahogany of the Mr. Raphael Pierce’s desk as his cock inches into my ass. I’m bent over the surface, his grip holding onto the extra skin on my waist like I’m going to somehow slip through his fingers. Not likely with that monster stuffing itself inside of me. Five minutes ago, Raphael called the café on the first floor for his daily coffee and now I’ve found myself in this predicament, my pants around my ankles, and this gorgeous man taking me apart one stroke at a time.

But thats how it always has been these past three months. It started as just coffee and then a relationship blossomed. And then something more. More often than not the few moments we have with each other devolve into this kind of madness.

Not that Im complaining.

Raphael chuffs out a laugh as his hands rub up and down my clothed torso. “Daddy? Is that something you’re into, little one? You’ve never called me that before.”

I hum at the pet name he uses for me, the one he coined when I playfully called him ‘grandpa’ after finding out that he was nearly 15 years older than me. In hindsight, that was rude and now I’m stuck being called ‘little one’ for the rest of eternity. Coming from Raphael, though, I don’t hate it. In fact, I crave hearing it fall from his lips every time we’re together.

Realizing I haven’t answered Raphael, I clear my throat and shake my head. “I… maybe? I just… can we have this conversation after you fuck me? My break is almost over.”

He bends over my back and places a kiss just behind my ear. “You aren’t running the show here, little one.”

A shudder runs down my spine as he picks up his pace and I muffle my sounds by biting my lip. No need to let his assistant stationed just outside the door know what’s going on here. I think her name is Juniper. June? I don’t know. Her mother is usually in that seat but June is filling in today for some reason. A groan filters through my lips as a particularly rough thrust has the entire desk shaking and something crashes to the ground as a result. Raphael isn’t paying any attention to it but I am. Pretty sure that trophy costs more than my monthly salary.

“Focus, little one.” His hand moves up to my neck, elegantly long fingers squeezing until I gasp for air. I try to warn Raphael that I’m about to come, that we need to stop but I can’t find the words. Pleasure overwhelms me as my eyes roll into the back of my head and I groan, my body sagging against the desk as I orgasm. Raphael’s pace is steady before he slams into my ass and then spills into the condom. I still feel the warmth from his release but am glad for the split-second decision.

Note to self: Don’t tease Raphael at work.

Not unless you want to be fucked.

I stand up on wobbly legs as he pulls out and steps back, my hole clenching around cold air. If I moan at the loss of his cock, Raphael will have no qualms about putting on another condom and going for round two. He might be just over 40 but goddamn he has the stamina of a horse. I am not complaining but I have to be careful or I’ll be bent over every surface before I can blink.

Hurriedly, I bend down to pull up my pants and zip them up before staring at the small stain on the front of Raphael’s desk. My eyes bug out as I realize it’s in a direct line of sight from the office’s massive double doors. Raphael seems rather unbothered as he stalks over to the bathroom attached to his office to throw away the condom. He’s always unbothered. Maybe that comes with money? I’m not sure but the white stain is obviously not paint or glue or any one of the number of things that should exist in an office.

Shit.

Raphael’s phone rings on his desk, June’s voice spilling into the office. “Mr. Pierce? There’s one of the investors here for your 8:30. Should I let him in?” Heat rises to my cheeks as I look for something to wipe up my mess. I hate that Raphael keeps this place so fucking clean. Not even a stray pen is out of place, except for the trophy that’s in pieces. I don’t dare look around the corner to see the damage we’ve done. If I can’t see it, it didn’t happen.

My gaze snags on a dark cloth to my right and I drop to my knees to grab it and hurriedly wipe off the stain, sighing with relief when everything comes off. It’s shinier than the rest of the desk but no one will know why.

“Using my jacket is a bold choice, Atlas.”

I twist around, swallowing nervously as I hold the bunched cloth in my hands. His jacket? Maybe I should have figured that out when the cloth felt like silk. Or cashmere? I don’t know the difference between any of the fabrics. I just know that it feels expensive. My go-to response is to find somewhere to hide it although Raphael is standing right in front of me. My panic only heightens as his chuckles spill into the room.

Raphael’s lips curl up in that handsome smile that makes my dick twitch, his hazel eyes dancing with amusement. Within the few seconds he disappeared into the bathroom, he’s returned as if he didn’t just fuck me seconds ago. His brown and silver strands are combed back, his shirt perfectly pressed, and his pants without a wrinkle. And here I am, on my knees, holding his cum-stained jacket. “Atlas, calm down. It’s just a jacket.”

Tears prick my eyes as a result of my panic. I don’t have the money to pay him back. Sure, Raphael is my lover but he’s also my employer. Things like this make it messy and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in this situation. “Worth my salary!” I hiss. Raphael approaches, running one of his hands through my motley curls. I’ve tried to tame them but it’s impossible with the schedule I keep. Running into my lover definitely doesn’t help as he tends to pull on them during these little rendezvous. Still, his hand in my hair soothes my worries and I lean forward against his thigh.

“But not worth the effort. Hand it over, little one. A bit of dry cleaning will make it good as new.” Raphael stretches out his other hand as he continues to massage my head. A moan filters through my lips as his grip on my hair tightens. “Jacket, Atlas.”

My obedience is immediate and I straighten up, offering his jacket up to him like a precious gift. He must see the lingering terror in my eyes because his expression softens. “It’s fine. I promise.” He grabs the fabric just as the door bursts open and June steps inside. Her eyes grow wide and in the next second, she backs out.

I scramble to my feet, profusely apologizing about the spill so that she’ll think this was something else. But how could she? I was on my knees in front of the CEO, handing him his coat. “Your coffee is getting cold, sir. Please let the café downstairs know if it’s not to your liking.” I give him an awkward bow, intent on leaving when Raphael wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me back against his chest. One of those hands sift into my curls again, keeping me from going anywhere.

“Atlas, she already knows. You’re not exactly quiet. I also reschedule any meetings so that we’re not bothered. Sometimes it’s a coffee or a conversation. Other times, you let me fuck your sweet little ass while you try to muffle your screams. Trust me, June knows.” Which means so does her mother. Raphael kisses up the side of my neck before releasing me. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Atlas. I’ll see you tonight?”

I manage a nod before I finally find an escape. Halfway to the elevator across the wide hall, I nearly get away unscathed until June clears her throat, grinning from her desk a few feet away from Raphael’s office. The grin is anything but happy, a slight distaste lingering in her expression. June looks just like her mother, with long brown hair delicately pulled back into a bun to show off the sharp lines of her face. Brown eyes follow my finger frantically pressing the elevator button, a small chuckle falling from her lips.

“You do know that you’re just the next on the schedule, right?” She spits out. Her eyes flame with a mixture of disgust and anger. I’m not sure what I did to have her look at me like that. Her head tilts to the side as she leans forward, placing her elbows on the desk and situating her hands beneath her chin. “It’s like a revolving door with him. In one goes, out the other. Sure, you’ve lasted longer but you’re not the only one to bring him coffee, Atlas.”

My face falls at what she’s insinuating. I know she’s just trying to get under my skin because Raphael and I have been together for almost three months. Well, not together but we’ve been dating. The elevator dings and the large metal door slides open. I scurry inside like a wounded animal, mulling over June’s words. Raphael and I aren’t even really dating. We’ve been hanging out. Is that the right term? We meet when we can, in and around the building, short bursts of passion that make it feel like I’ve known him for years.

And yet, I probably see him less than couples who date normally.

Raphael makes me feel and want things I have no business thinking about. We’ve been feeding this entanglement for nearly three months. It started with shy glances at the café counter as I passed him his triple espresso with one pump of hazelnut crème and morphed into sweet moments outside the employee lounge and late afternoons when he kept me company as I prepped the café for the next day. A memory of Thursday last week slips into my head.

Another late afternoon shift cleaning the café. Heather, my boss, was gracious enough to hand me a few more hours so I could save up to fix my car. There’s a multitude of things wrong with it, the looming bill I need to pay wildly out of my reach. In a few weeks though, I’ll have enough. If nothing else falls apart.

I grab the broom and finish sweeping behind the counter, letting out a shriek when I see a man leaning against the entryway of the café. “Raphael? Shit! You scared me. How did you get in here?”

His dark chuckles as he presses forward have my dick twitching in my pants, my fingers tightening around the broom handle. Raphael isn’t just intense; he consumes and overwhelms my entire existence when he approaches. “I own the building, Atlas. Or did you forget that?” The jangle of keys reaches my ears and I try to pretend I didn’t just screech like a scared rat.

I am not successful.

“Right, of course. I knew that. I know that.” I’m about to start rambling, spewing off every animal fact I’ve uselessly learned over the past two years during my graduate degree in zoology. What can I say? The random facts keep me grounded, especially in the presence of this silver fox who somehow thinks my full cheeks and thick waist are attractive. I’m not ugly but not as thin as-

Two fingers pinch my chin from across the counter and I freeze as Raphael appears right in front of me, a quirky smile playing on his lips. “Stop thinking so hard, Atlas. I just came to keep you company before you finished up. Why do you keep all the lights off in here when it’s only just after 5 pm?”

I shrug. “People like to still come in here and ask for coffee or bang on the door if the lights are on.”

“So, you clean in the dark?” He laughs, releasing my chin and looking around. “How much more do you have to do?”

“I’ll be done in a minute.” I avoid Raphael’s gaze as I search for the dustpan and complete the tail end of my duties. When I finish putting everything away, an arm snags me around the waist and pulls me into a hard chest. I melt against my lover, a full day’s worth of work taking a toll on my body. Between graduate school, the café, and studying for finals, I barely have time to breathe which is why moments like this are everything.

One of Raphael’s hands sifts into my hair, keeping me pressed up against him as his head dips to the curve of my shoulder. “I’ve missed you, little one.” A shiver runs down my spine at hearing my pet name, the one that slips from Raphael whenever we’re alone.

“You saw me this morning when I ran you coffee,” I joke but I’m not ready to leave this embrace as I wind my arms around his back, my fingers brushing over expensive velvet. At least that’s what Raphael told me it was when I asked this morning.

“It’s never enough time. You going to let me take you out to dinner at some point?”

I sigh, burrowing farther into his hold. That’s been the question of the week, or the past few weeks, really. The mere thought of dining at some posh restaurant where I’ll have to dress up and behave sounds like a bore. I really like Raphael but not the world he lives in. I don’t want the riches, or the attention, or having to play a part. I’m just me. Atlas Stoll. “Maybe. Not tonight. I have finals next week and I need to study.” Excuses. I’m more than ready to graduate. My thesis was completed last semester. Unless I miserably flunk these last tests, I will still walk.

“Mmmm, can I at least walk you to your car?”

I slip from his hold and then offer my hand, trying not to laugh when somehow a man of 40 pulls off that puppy dog look. I couldn’t love this man more if I tried. Wait, love? Ignoring that thought, I allow Raphael to guide me from the café and into the parking lot, the man pressing me against my car to kiss me senseless before watching me get in and drive away.

I’m just happy that my car turned on that night and even happier that the clunker made it to the shelter where I spend most of my nights. Occasionally, one of my classmates lets me crash at their dorm if we have late-night study sessions but that’s far and few between.

How Raphael and I got to this point, stolen moments in his office, the lounge, around the back of the building, and in the parking lot after my shift? I have no idea. I’m not complaining but sneaking around is taking its toll. Raphael is a bomb I didn’t anticipate. I don’t hate it but… I’m starting to spiral. My schedule has always kept me on track but thoughts of my silver-haired god infiltrate my mind when I need to be studying. Or working. Or sleeping. Or anything really.

I think he knows it, only because he’s tried to ask me what’s on my mind a few times and I playfully brush it off. Besides, nothing is wrong. We’re having fun.

Fun where I’m just casually getting fucked in the CEO’s office.

I lean against the wall of this metal contraption, huffing out a long breath. Sitting atop the 15th floor must be a blessing but the elevator ride is much longer than I like. If I had the stamina, I’d be speeding down the steps to run off the excess adrenaline and need coursing through my veins.

“Hey lover boy!”

I jerk back to reality, blinking several times when the elevator stands open, Gerald hanging at the entrance, laughing at my lost expression. We work together at the café but unlike most of my coworkers, Gerald is obsessed with me and my ‘crush’ on Raphael. He has no idea the extent of it. “Don’t call me that, Gerald,” I grumble as I push past him.

“Why? It’s true!” He jokes as he skips behind me. Was I that hyper at 20 years old or is this just Gerald? Who knows? Either way, I’m not a fan. “Look, we’ve got morning rush and you just happen to skip out every time Daddy Pierce needs his coffee.”

I scowl at that. It’s the running nickname for Raphael because everyone has eyes. Everyone can see that that man hasn’t lost his shine. A younger version of me would have never entertained the thought of Raphael at my side. Now? I’m not sure what will happen when this relationship inevitably falls apart. Because it will. My boss’ boss’ boss can’t date me. He might even be that boss’ boss. I just know that when everyone finds out, it’ll be over.

Is that what June meant that it’s a revolving door up there?

Someone claps me on the back of the head as I walk back into the café and I look up to see Heather. My direct boss and the woman who runs this cute little coffee escape gives me a lot of leeway. She also knows the truth about Raphael. However, my break ended nearly 10 minutes ago and I’m a disheveled mess that somehow no one else has picked up on.

“Thank you, Gerald. Please return to the counter. I need to speak with Atlas.” Gerald snickers and points two finger guns at me as he returns to the kitchen where he prepares the fresh bakery items. Heather watches him go, almost as if without her eyes on him, Gerald won’t actually do his job. Then the woman turns back to me, her soft brown eyes giving me a once over. She reminds me of my mother before she passed away, a thicker woman who never lost the roundness in her cheeks. We’re nearly the same height at 5’7” but she holds an aura that I can never match.

A dominance that demands our respect and attention.

Just like now.

“Raphael still giving you a hard time?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s just been a few days since we’ve seen each other. I’m sorry. I told him my break was ending and-” Before I knew that Heather knew, these conversations were weird. They still are but it’s nice knowing I have someone in my corner. My mother used to be that for me, now it’s Heather.

Heather taps my shoulder, sending me a warm smile as she squeezes. “Hey, love doesn’t listen to time. I’m not mad. Just worried about the toll it’s taking on you. Atlas, you love hard and I saw what breaking up with your last beau did to you. You let me know if I need to step in.” I narrow my gaze at her, wondering what she’ll do. I’m hoping Raphael won’t punish her by closing down the café. “I have my ways, Atlas. Now, get to the latte machine. Tracey has no idea how to work it and I’m sure the next button she presses will either break it or cause a meltdown.”

We both share a laugh as I head for the counter, throwing up little waves and hellos at the regulars in line. Heather is right, though. I do love hard and I need to figure shit out before things go sideways with Raphael. That would involve talking, something that terrifies me.