Dalton, Tymber - Contractual Obligation (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (11 page)

“And what?”

He nodded at the take-out carton. “I’m guessing you told him to go to hell, or something similar. What’d he do to piss you off?”

She smiled. “Oh, besides bitching that he didn’t get to talk to my daddy?”

Gorden winced. “He didn’t?”

“He did.”

“Oooh. Yes, what’d he do besides that?”

“You know I can’t stand someone who pisses on my leg and tries to tell me it’s raining. Besides, the guy was a douche.”

“Douche, enema, colostomy bag, I don’t care. What did he want?”

“To buy us out.”

At that, Gorden’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“See? Yeah, but I don’t know what kind of magic capital he thought he’d use to buy us out with. His company’s net worth, holdings and all, isn’t enough to leverage that kind of deal.”

“Hmm.” Gorden looked thoughtful. “I suspect I know what he was after.”

“Patents.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“Didn’t take an expert or a psychic. Unfortunately for that brainiac, an expert he isn’t.” She finished off the last few bites of her picadillo and took the carton over to the garbage can.

“He didn’t even last past the first course, huh?” Gorden asked.

It wasn’t the first time she’d ended a business meeting early because of terminal asshattery on the part of the other party. “He barely lasted past the drink orders.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” She returned to her desk, thoughtful. “Get me as much deep info about him and his company as you can. Including anyone in government he might be a little too cozy with.”

“Did he huff and bluff?”

“Until I blew his house in.” She thought about it. “This might be a good assignment for Doug to help you with.”

“I’m ahead of you, dear. This will be one of his jobs later on, so he’ll need to know how to do it.”

“Think he’s up for it?”

Gorden nodded as he stood and stretched. “I have a feeling your new lapdog is going to prove himself to be a regular pit bull where you’re concerned. Unless I’m totally wrong about my gut feelings.”

Gorden was never wrong about his gut feelings. If he thought Doug was good, then he was. “Train him well, Obi-Wan. You’re his only hope.”

He gave her a mock bow. “Just don’t go all Vader on him too soon. Let me get him trained first so he can stand up to you. And buy him a stainless steel cup.”

Chapter Ten

Doug’s first week went relatively well despite feeling he’d jumped in way over his head. Gorden assured him he was doing fine, and his few brief meetings with Harper went well.

Unfortunately, come Friday afternoon, he knew he had unfinished business to take care of. He’d only spoken to Tate a few times throughout the week. He dreaded the drive up to Gainesville. He knew how it would end—how it had to end—and why.

It didn’t make it any easier to do. He didn’t want to hurt Tate.

He didn’t want to say good-bye to Tate.

The fact that Tate had received the promotion was, ironically, an out for him. Not a final good-bye, just a break for a while so he could get his career off the ground and save his parents’ home, and an opportunity for Tate to settle into his new job responsibilities. Long-distance relationships were a bitch and a half to maintain.

This was an opportunity neither of them could pass up.

He’d even take every bit of anger or abuse Tate wanted to deal out. He deserved it and he knew it. He just wished he could tell Tate the full truth. Ask him to wait.

He also knew that was even more selfish than taking this job for the money.

Tate was watching TV in the living room when Doug let himself in late Friday night. Without a word, Tate jumped up and kissed him.

Everything Doug had planned to say and do flew out of his mind. Tate was dressed in nothing but running shorts. Doug ran his hands over his body, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Tate’s shorts and yanking them down the man’s hips.

Tate dropped to his knees and unzipped Doug’s slacks. He pulled out his cock and sucked it into his mouth, reaching around Doug and digging his fingers into his ass, holding him tightly.

Not that Doug would escape if he wanted to. There wasn’t much better than the feel of Tate’s blow jobs.

Before he could come, Tate released him, stood, and grabbed his hand. Doug followed him to their bedroom and kicked off his shoes and socks before pulling off the rest of his clothes and joining Tate in their bed.

Somewhere in his brain, a little voice screamed at Doug that this was wrong, this was callous, that it was horrible to use Tate like this.

His cock and balls told that little voice to take a hike when Tate rolled onto his hands and knees and wiggled his cute ass at Doug.

“Fuck me, baby. I need you.”

Doug grabbed the bottle of lube off the bedside table, slathered his cock and Tate’s ass with it, and buried himself balls-deep inside his lover’s tight, hot channel.

He held still a moment, enjoying the sensation and knowing it might be the very last time he ever felt it. When he started moving, he knew it wouldn’t take long for him to blow his load. He reached around and grabbed Tate’s cock, which was already leaking long ropes of pre-cum all over the sheets.

“Come for me,” he hoarsely said. He wanted this one last time to feel Tate’s ass squeezing his cock as he came. Tate’s hips bucked against him as he fucked himself back and forth between Doug’s cock and hand. Doug used his free hand to smack Tate on the ass. “That’s it, show me how good it feels,” he said.

Tate’s back arched as he let out a loud moan. At the same time, Doug felt Tate’s cock explode in his hand as his ass went wild around his cock. He let go and grabbed Tate’s hips, fucking him deep and hard, driving him up the bed as his own climax washed through him. They ended up in a sweaty tangle in the sheets.

Doug was afraid to break the silence. After a while, Tate finally spoke. “You’re moving to Tampa, aren’t you?”

Doug swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

In the dim light, Doug couldn’t see Tate’s expression. “I had a feeling,” he softly said.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to, but this job—”

“It’s okay.” In the darkness, Tate found and squeezed his hand. “You need to do what you need to do for your folks. I understand.”

Doug felt even worse, if it was possible. “I don’t want you to lose this opportunity, either.”

“I know.” Tate went silent for so long, Doug thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. “Just tell me the truth. Is there anyone else now?”

“No,” Doug said, his voice nearly breaking up as he choked back tears. “I love you.”

Tate let out a sad sigh. “Okay.” He patted Doug’s arm. “Friends with bennies then, for now?”

Doug kissed the back of his neck. “Okay.”

* * * *

Tate had suspected this was coming. If it hadn’t been for Doug’s family’s problems, he knew it would have gone differently. Tate couldn’t blame him. Put in the same position, he might have made the same choice.

He couldn’t fault Doug for wanting to help them, even if it broke his heart in the process.

They made love again before falling asleep. The next morning, after their shower and breakfast, Tate helped Doug pack and load his car. Before Doug left, they hugged.

“I’m always going to love you,” Tate softly said. “And if there’s ever a chance, I want it.”

He heard the sorrow in Doug’s voice. “Me too, babe.”

They kissed one last time before Doug finally climbed into his car and left. Tate watched him until he pulled out of their apartment complex.

One day
, he thought.
One day, I’m going to come after you.

He just hoped that day would be sooner rather than later.

Chapter Eleven

Three weeks into Doug’s employment, Harper had an assignment for him. She called him into her office on a Monday morning. “You’re going to a conference in Miami with me this week. We’ll leave late Wednesday afternoon, and stay over Wednesday and Thursday nights. Make sure to pack business casual for the meetings, and a swim suit for the hotel, if you want.”

He was ready to go Wednesday afternoon, on time as usual. She’d brought her travel bag with her, and hid a soft cooler in her suitcase with ice packs in it for her medication. Her room would have a fridge in it, and since they weren’t sharing a room, she didn’t need to worry about him discovering her secret.

He put his bags in the trunk of her Mustang, and she climbed behind the wheel. “I hope you don’t mind my driving music.” She thumbed through her iPod and found her playlist, a mix of everything from Warren Zevon to Aerosmith, Seether to Adele.

She couldn’t read his expression through his dark sunglasses. “I like a lot of different kinds of music.”

“Good. Then we’ll get along just fine.” She took the Crosstown Expressway east to I-75, then headed south. She would take Alligator Alley and then hop onto the Florida Turnpike. They’d reach Miami in a little under four hours, in time to grab dinner there.

She hadn’t had too many opportunities to just sit and chat with Doug. She wanted to learn more about him, become genuine friends with him, and not just have a working relationship. “Were you raised here in Tampa?”

He nodded as he stared ahead at the road. “Born and raised here. You?”

“Close enough. Born and raised in Tarpon Springs and in Tampa.” She didn’t want to force the issue, but she was finding herself quickly running out of small talk. Of course, she knew she was no master of that skill in the first place, unless it had to do with business. “So, what are your hobbies, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

* * * *

Is she kidding? Spare time? What the hell is that?
He hadn’t had much resembling spare time. He’d been too busy taking stuff home to work on, information about the company Gorden gave him to study. He shrugged. “I like to read. I used to play amateur hockey, but I had to sell my equipment. I didn’t have time or money to do it anymore while I was in school.”

“I love hockey. Go Bolts!” She laughed. “I have season tickets. On the glass. My dad really isn’t into it, so I’m usually trying to give away the extra or I end up going alone.”

“I’d like to go.” Sports, good, a safe topic. He prayed she didn’t ask him about relationships. He didn’t want to tell any more lies than the ones he already had.

Well, not lies, exactly. One lie, and a whole lot of omissions.

Who am I kidding? She finds out, she’ll can me.

They discussed music and reading and movies. The longer they talked, the easier it was for him to settle in and see her as a person, not as his rich boss who wanted him to play her boyfriend. By the time they stopped for gas in Ft. Myers, she had him laughing at her dry humor.

He realized he was having fun.

As they rolled across the desolate expanse of Alligator Alley, he studied her profile as she drove. He’d asked her a work-related question, and couldn’t help but notice the instant change in her demeanor. She was all business, knew her stuff.