27. Christian

27

CHRISTIAN

I have to catch my breath, but I don’t want Gibson going anywhere. Tucking my face against his neck, I wrap my arms and legs around him, adjusting until I’m comfortably molded to him. He smells different now, and it’s because we’ve been smashed together for nearly an hour, literally all over each other.

“That worked out better than I thought it would,” I say.

His fingertips graze my scalp as he combs through my hair. “I was very ready.”

“And surprisingly willing.”

“You don’t think I’m open-minded? I like to try new things.”

“I mean…” He has been married for a very long time to a woman who won’t touch him, so… “Try, maybe , but get into like that?”

“Felt fucking incredible,” he murmurs.

My eyes flutter shut when his words land as a compliment. I’m glad I didn’t disappoint. “You’d do it again?”

“With you?” he asks. “No question.”

Grinning, I ask, “Do you like me, Gibson? ”

“I think I’ve made that obvious. I might have even said it out loud a few times.”

“I like you, too. Even when you’re really stupid.”

I feel him laugh. “By all means, don’t feel the need to hold anything back after I just let you come inside me.”

I shiver at the memory of that orgasm. Epic doesn’t begin to cover it. It easily ties with the best, which was the one he fucked out of me last night. And this? This afterglow? I’ve never felt anything like it, but I don’t let myself think about that too hard. I soak in the moment. There’s a safety in it I don’t find all that often. A quiet in my mind that comes as a relief so good, I’d almost trade it for the orgasm, except that it’s all in one package.

“You’re gonna be impossible to work for after this, aren’t you?” I ask.

“If we’re in the same room? Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you can be professional or not.”

I lift my head. “Me?”

“Have you seen the way you dress?”

I grin. “In the suits you bought me?”

“Exactly. Like you’re asking to be checked out. It’s not appropriate, Christian.”

“Are you saying you have dirty thoughts about me when we’re in your office? It’s been two days.”

“I had dirty thoughts in Rome, too, as you know. And you’re a terrible influence,” he says.

“Am I slutty?”

“So slutty.” He runs his thumb across my lips, and I catch it in my mouth, giving it a long, wet suck while I watch his gaze heat.

“But you like that,” I say once I let him go.

“How many times do I need to say it?”

I smile. “A lot. I have validation needs.”

“Do you? You seem fine to me.”

“This from the guy who wants me to see a therapist. ”

He grins. “I care about my employees…And my friends,” he adds quietly.

“Well, the benefits are good either way.”

“Oh, you wanna be a brat, huh?”

I laugh. “No, sir. I wanna be a good boy.”

“Then come to the club with me tonight. Keep me company.”

I narrow my eyes and put my face back in his neck, groaning. “What is your deal with that place?”

“They need to know I have my eye on them. Otherwise, I lose influence.”

“Influence to blackmail politicians or make legitimate business deals?”

“There goes my blood pressure.”

“You like knowing everyone’s dirty secrets?” I ask.

“I promise most of them have worse secrets than what they do in my club.”

“How do you figure?”

“Okay,” he says, “maybe not most of them, but some of them certainly.”

I grin against his skin, unable to resist the urge to kiss it again.

He lets out a deliberate breath and places a hand between my shoulder blades. Squeezing.

“This pet of yours…”

“Mmhm?”

“She gonna be there?” I ask, remembering too well the way she shook her ass for him.

He draws back to look at me. “Is there another question in there somewhere?”

I meet his gaze. How weird do I want to make this? My history of being a once and done kind of guy is no help here. But I don’t want to stop messing around with Gibson. I also don’t want to stop feeling the way he makes me feel—it must be special if I don’t want to share. “You still want…that?”

He gives his head a small shake. Miniscule .

It feels like we’re both trying not to admit something it’s too soon to admit. “Can it um…” I start, but fumble, my hand trying to take a fistful of his flesh in its clenching grip. “Just be us for now?”

I can’t read the expression on his face, like he’s schooled it to stay completely blank. But his chest rises and falls heavily, and a rough swallow makes its way down his throat. “Of course,” he whispers.

Instead of sagging with relief, I tense with it. My head bobs in a quick nod. “Cool.”

He palms my cheek and lowers his mouth to mine. We kiss gently for a long moment before he pulls away with a satisfied sigh. Maybe I relax a little. Enough to say, “I need to take a shower.”

He squeezes me tighter against him. “What you need to do is clean up the mess you made of me.”

“Are you asking me to fuck you again already?”

“I could’ve done that all day.”

“But I’m the slut…”

“Maybe you’re not the only one.”

I grin. “All right. Come on, then.”

I don’t have a large shower. It’s more like a stall, but it heats up fast and gets the job done. When Gibson steps into it, though, I’m not sure how I’ll fit and manage to maneuver enough to clean him. Obviously, I was kidding about having sex with him in here. He’s huge, and while I probably weigh fifty pounds less than he does, I have broad shoulders and am a full grown man. He pulls me in against him regardless. It’s impossible not to have some part of us touching, whether it’s shoulders, hips, arms, or erections.

Because of course I’m hard again. He’s wet, and he’s gorgeous, and powerful, and flattering, and kissing him is almost as good as being inside him was. Or having him inside me. “I don’t know how to do this,” I say immediately. “I’ve never taken a shower with someone before. You want me to wash your hair? Jerk you off and let the water handle the rest? What?”

He turns so I’m facing his back. “Start with my hair.”

I like that he has no problem saying what he wants, but faced with this view of him, I’m momentarily dumbstruck. No tan lines, lats I want to outline with my tongue, and an ass so round and delicious, I want to take a bite out of it.

Snapping out of it, I reach around him to grab the shampoo and squirt some into my hand. He tips his head back, letting the water bounce off his chest. Horny and unable to help myself, I lather my cock first and shove it between his ass cheeks before I put my hands in his hair and massage.

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, reaching around to grab my hip and ensure my dick doesn’t go anywhere. It slides up and down between his clenched cheeks, which feels messy and depraved. What’s weird, though, is when I try to imagine fucking him like this—his hands on the wall and his ass out on offer, I can’t.

And with as much as he seems to enjoy my cock in his crack, I feel like a Cocker Spaniel trying to hump a Mastiff. Like he’s allowing this because he gets how hard up I am.

It felt different face-to-face. I don’t know shit about bottoming or power bottoming or topping or anything. Everything feels like new territory with him. Some things feel right while others don’t make sense yet. I just want him. Even in this tiny shower. Even at his ridiculous club.

By the time I’m done with his hair, he’s got a grip on my hips with both hands, and he’s working my cock with his ass. I feel like I’m on a ride, holding onto his shoulders with my forehead against his back, panting as I get closer and closer to coming again.

“I’m close,” I say.

He turns, and I grab hold of my cock before he knocks my hand away. Grabbing my ass, he wraps his massive hand around both our dicks and jerks them together, setting a relentless pace .

“Oh fuck,” I groan. The sensation of our cocks against each other is like nothing I ever imagined. Just the sight is illicit. His foreskin has me captivated, covering and then revealing his slick, red crown. I wish for the first time I had one. It looks like it feels so good—an extra set of nerve endings—an added layer of friction.

“Thought you were close,” he says, his tone taunting and fully in command.

I can’t speak. His wrist twists, our dicks crossing in his grip and then sliding back into alignment. The third time he repeats this maneuver, I detonate, cum shooting directly onto his abs. He huffs before letting out a low warning growl that sounds a lot like a dog guarding a food bowl as his release joins my ongoing gush.

“Fuck,” he grits out. “ Fuck …”

I kiss him. It’s impulsive and over-eager, borderline desperate, with my arms wrapped around him as I crush my lips to his. He lets go of our still erupting dicks and smashes our bodies together, drinking and devouring me. “You sure you wanna start this shit with me?” he asks when we both can’t breathe.

“No.”

I’m sure of nothing as he pins me to the wall and takes my mouth again. He lifts my arms over my head, and with a tight, firm grip, pins my wrists to the tile while I arch my body to meet his. With his free hand, he soaps up every place he can reach, going lighter on my backside, though nothing hurts right now.

I love the way he’s holding me down. Love that he’s put me where he wants me. That I’m someone he wants to keep in place. It’s a crazy turn on. It makes me want to do more to keep his attention. Earn it.

He ends the kiss and runs his hand down the side of my face, lifting my chin to hold my gaze. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“No one’s asking you to.”

“What do you want, Christian? ”

I frown, not quite following. For as many times as I feel like I can tell exactly what he’s thinking, there’s an equal amount where I’m clueless. “This is good for me,” I answer honestly. “Put your hands anywhere you want.”

He licks water off his lips. “You don’t need more?”

I’m ninety-percent sure I couldn’t handle more, no matter what he means by it. He’s the distraction I didn’t know I needed, but I already rely on him for far too much. I want to say no, I’m good. But now that Pet’s gotta find a new owner, I feel like I owe him more than a dismissal. Plus, I might need slightly more.

“Do you?” I ask.

“I need everything,” he says, parting my lips with his and sliding his tongue back inside me.

We kiss like that—with my hands pinned and him feeling me up until the water gets cool, and I’m shivering from the lack of heat and overstimulation.

“I need to get you dried off,” he sighs, letting my hands go.

I stretch my fingers and realize they’re numb.

Once I’m dry and out of the bathroom, I grab a black shirt and sweats from my dresser. It’s only five. I doubt he’s going to the club this early, but he looks like he’s heading out, buckling his belt as I’m pulling my drawstring.

I check my phone while he’s buttoning his shirt. Drew and Jericho both texted. Seeing their names prompts me to scroll a mile and open my text thread with Silas to see how long it’s been since we last spoke.

The date of his last text is from March. Four months ago. My last text was in May for the record, but he left it on read. It wasn’t much. Just checking in. Let me know if you want to grab a drink sometime. I guess I could have followed up better.

I do now, being more direct.

Are you working tonight ?

To my surprise, the text immediately shows as read and his dots appear.

Silas

No but I have plans. What’s up?

I dodge that question.

When are you free?

What do you have in mind?

Typical Silas. I grin because difficult people are my favorite kind.

Drinks, lunch, dinner, clubbing—whatever you have time for tomorrow.

Silas

Tomorrow? Did you suddenly remember you miss me or something?

I did before you did.

Yeah, I can do tomorrow, but absolutely no to clubbing.

Happy hour?

Pretty sure they don’t do those on Saturdays.

You get the idea.

Happy hour sounds good. You still at Gramercy?

Almost 24-7.

If you want a break from the UES, come down to Chelsea. There’s a tapas place by my apartment that’s pretty cheap and the drinks are decent.

My apartment. Maybe he’s not as involved with the senator as it seems? There’s more than one apartment in Chelsea after all, and surely if they were living together he would have called it “ours.” Or maybe not. I was never quiet about how I felt about him and Graham Lawther.

It’s going to be tough if I expect him to open up about it, but I plan on striking a less judgmental tone this time, now that I’m sleeping with a married man, too.

“Who are you texting?” Gibson asks.

I glance at him over my shoulder. “Is that your business?”

His lips purse as he shoves his wet hair out of his face, averting his gaze. “Don’t mind me. I was just leaving.”

“It’s Silas,” I say.

“How difficult was that?”

“I’m just fucking with you.”

“Maybe now’s not a good time.”

I set my phone down and get to him as he’s reaching for the door latch. I touch his back. “It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye.”

“I don’t know how to,” he grumbles.

“Which compartment are we in right now?” I ask.

“They’re all sort of running together for me.”

I slide in front of him and put my hands on his waist. “You don’t have to go,” I tell him, and then I see the look on his face. It makes me swallow hard, and all thoughts of teasing him go out the window. His worry lines are firmly in place, and his jaw is tense. His gaze flickers with uncertainty, and I don’t like that I might have something to do with it. “If you’re not ready to.”

His hands encircle my wrists like he intends to remove them, but he hesitates and runs his hands up my forearms instead. I take the opening and pull him into a hug. He lets out a long sigh once our bodies connect. “ Mmm …”

I shut my eyes and try to enjoy what this is without wanting it to be more. There’s an addictive quality to him—a magnetism I’ve become a victim of.

“Thank you for this afternoon,” he says.

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods.

“You feel any better?” I ask.

“I feel a lot of things. Not sure better is how I’d describe it.”

“I’ll come up later,” I tell him.

“Yeah?” I can feel at least a pound of tension leaving him as he asks.

“Unless you’re planning on making me wear kitten ears.”

He huffs a laugh, and his warm breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine. “You’d look good in a collar, though.”

“Do you care if they know you’re fucking a man?” I wonder aloud.

“No,” he says. “I don’t care what anybody knows about anything. Fucking my assistant with impunity included.”

“Not to mention your doorman. They all recognize me, you know?”

“I do, and you’re a favorite.”

I pull my head back to look at him without lowering my arms. “Of whose?”

He grins softly. “You don’t see yourself at all, do you?”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, a buck seventy. What’s to see?”

“Radiance.”

I shake my head slowly, keeping his eye contact now that I’ve got it back. “I mean, I’ll take it.”

He gives me a peck on the mouth. “Wear something sexy for me.”

I smile, leaning in to press my nose to his. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”