Milky Coffee and Office Gossip (6 page)

Remy once again gripped his hands with one of his bigger hands, effectively restraining them above his head. “No touching.”

“What if I want to?” Corey pouted playfully.

“Use your tongue and lips. I know you’re damn good at sucking cock,” Remy growled, held his prick with his free hand, and tapped it against Corey’s cheek.

Corey snickered at the man’s playfulness. “And don’t you forget it. Now stop fidgeting! Gimme...” He opened right up as his lover pointed his cock down and took as much as he could.

Humming when he noticed the blissful expression on Remy’s face, Corey didn’t play around. Every time Remy pulled back, Corey sucked hard, then teased the vein running the underside while he pushed back in. Remy muttered curses whenever Corey pointed his tongue and rubbed over the wrinkled flesh under the cap, or licked into the slit.

“Corey, so good! Need to...” Remy hissed through clenched teeth. Corey could see the man’s balls pulling tight and knew exactly what he needed. Remy was holding back for some reason though, his legs tense on both sides of Corey’s shoulders. It was a heady feeling, being able to bring his lover so much pleasure, to push this strong, gorgeous man to the brink of orgasm.

Corey hummed again, hoping Remy would see it as permission. Thank God, he did.

With a strangled groan, Remy began to move his hips in short, fast snaps, fucking Corey’s mouth. Corey tried to concentrate on his task but it wasn’t easy with the way his blood pooled in his groin. He was hard as a rock and still trapped in the confines of his shorts. The way Remy moved and tasted, the sounds he made, brought Corey so damn close to the edge. The last time he’d come from just blowing a guy, he’d been seventeen. He’d squeezed into a broom closet with Zack Simmons, the quarterback of the football team.

“Ahh shit, Corey!” With a strangled moan, Remy shot his release, first hitting the back of his throat and then his tongue. Corey swallowed quickly, trying to catch it all. He liked Remy’s bitter-salty taste and mewled in protest when his lover pulled back eventually. The last spurt hit his cheek and chin, and just like that, Corey giggled in delight. Sex with Remy was fun. Not the serious stuff his prior lovers had preferred.

“What a porn moment, lover.” Corey’s voice was raspy, his throat hoarse from the exertion.

Remy’s husky chuckle sounded breathless above him. With slow, tired movements, his lover made his way down Corey’s body again. Their eyes met, a naughty intent visible in Remy’s silver-blue gaze. Then he shocked the hell out of Corey by leaning down and licking the cum off his face. He even hummed his obvious pleasure. Corey loved, no, adored naughty Remington.

“Remy—”

His lover didn’t give him time to finish. Instead, he pushed his tongue between Corey’s lips and mapped his mouth, thoroughly. Not that he wanted to complain. He’d never get enough of kissing this wonderful man.

“Hmm. Love tasting me on your tongue. So hot, Corey. Can’t wait to sink my cock so deep inside your tight ass you’ll feel me the whole day tomorrow,” Remy growled against his ear while tugging at Corey’s shorts.

“Oh, a challenge, huh?” Corey teased, basking in the attention and the knowledge that Remy was eager to go again so shortly after his climax. What a caress for his bruised ego. “Don’t promise what you can’t deliver, Mr. Lawyer.”

For all his bravado, Remy’s answering smile caused his stomach to cramp. Truth was, Corey wanted this gorgeous man in his life. As a partner, not just a fuck-buddy.

When their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, Corey was on the verge of tears. He didn’t want to lose this. He could, though. Maybe as soon as Remy had finished his assignment with Harding Constructions.

Roughly three weeks after his visit at Corey’s, the first of many because he’d come to love the little house, Remy sat in his office at Blackwell & Pratt. He’d swiveled his chair away from his desk and looked out the window showing the city of Boston. His secretary had just brought him his usual lunch, big milky coffee and a chicken sandwich.

Like always when his mind wasn’t busy contradicting other lawyer’s conclusions, his thoughts strayed to Corey.

His first boyfriend ever. The thought caused him to chuckle around his snack.

That day in Corey’s kitchen, when the man had looked so afraid of Remy’s reaction while they’d stumbled through their first, serious discussion about their... arrangement, had changed everything. His lover’s sweet, nonverbal wish for more than sex had pushed Remy out of his comfort zone with the force of a semi.

He’d cracked the tension with hot sex, but now he knew that Corey wasn’t the ideal pick for a one-night-stand or a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Had he known it upfront, he never would’ve approached the cute man.

However, Remy didn’t have it in him to regret his decision. Corey dousing him in cold coffee had the potential to become the most important encounter of his life. As a man who couldn’t stand his bed partners for longer than a few hours, this was an odd development. Cute little Corey, with his big eyes, charming smiles, and geeky clumsiness, had found a way under his skin. And he quietly wormed his way to the place Remy had closed to anybody a long time ago.

Tough, brash, dominating and reserved lawyer that he was, Remy’s usual defenses didn’t stand a chance against such a concentrated onslaught of sweet perfection. Honestly, why should he even defend himself? For all the shit he spouted about independence and being able to do as he pleased, belonging to a man like Corey felt surprisingly awesome. He enjoyed their time together, the sex and the quiet, along with the talkative moments afterward. Remy loved the man’s wit, the way he didn’t take himself too seriously, and his quiet intelligence.

However, smiles, kisses, and homemade pancakes couldn’t erase years of neglecting his heart’s desires. The leopard cannot change his spots and all that. Although Corey’s first shyness had vanished and given way to a chatterbox, Remy hadn’t been able to share personal stuff that went beyond the day-to-day business or his job. This lack of communication gnawed at him whenever he felt Corey’s pleading eyes trained on him. The other man wanted to know more about him and Remy couldn’t blame him.

He’d yet to tell Corey that his feelings had developed past the
I like to fuck you very much
stage, and had slipped into
There’s something between us that makes my heart aflutter
territory. Corey needed to hear those words. Every day they circled in his head till he couldn’t concentrate on anything else, yet Remy couldn’t bring himself to voice them.

But he was anything if not determined. Now that he’d made up his mind to explore where their relationship would lead, he wanted to keep Corey around. It was part of his character to thrive on winning the game. So, Corey’s affection and feelings weren’t gaming material exactly. There was much more at stake than when he asserted business law—what were a few million dollars against Corey’s precious heart? The goal remained the same. Remy just had to find a way to overcome his own hang-ups.

When his phone rang, Remy looked at his watch and rolled his eyes. He hated interrupted lunch breaks. But maybe it was—Nope, not his boyfriend. He knew the number as good as his own though.

He picked up the phone and asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of my best friend calling on such a wonderful day?”

“First question would be if you’re high,” Rafael Bell deadpanned. “Second question is, since when did you promote me to your best friend? We know it’s not necessary because I’m your only friend.”

Remy laughed and leaned back in his chair, swiveling around again so he could place his feet on his desk. “You’re an ass.”

“Well, you’re not. That leads me to the third question. What’s wrong?”

“Just so you know, there are moments in my life when I’m perfectly happy and content, Rafe.” When nothing but silence greeted him from the other end of the line, he sighed deeply. “Fine, I yield. No, I’m not high, you’re my best and only friend, and nothing is wrong. I’m just having a good day.”

Rafael whistled. “Damn. So, what’s his name?”

“Whose name?”

“The lay of the day, my friend. Or the lay of the week, whatever. If you’re in such a good mood, although I chose the lunch break for my call deliberately to piss you off, I know that there’s at least one skilled man involved.”

“Well, consider yourself downgraded to a friend I’ll deliberately forget to remember when it’s time to send the Christmas cards.”

His friend just chuckled. He wasn’t so far-off base though. Remy and Rafael Bell, a Brit who’d moved to the States four years ago, had crossed paths at a bar. Although they’d had a great evening dancing with each other, they’d enjoyed the tequila a bit too much. As soon as they’d hit Remy’s bed, both had passed out. The next morning, Rafe had held Remy’s hair when he’d tossed his cookies and of course a bond had formed.

Just as well. Remy hadn’t been Rafael’s type anyway and given his fuck and run philosophy, they were better off as friends.

“Earth to Remy?”

“Yeah, sorry. Drifted off there for a second.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “All right. Don’t flip or scream into the phone, okay? I... met someone.”

For moments like the following, when nobody said a word and waited for the other to elaborate, Remy wished for an app on his phone that played the clitter of a cricket.
That
would be a useful gadget.

“You meet someone anytime you go out, Remy. What’s new about it?” His friend’s voice was ringing with confusion. No surprise there.

“Well, new is that he’s the cutest darn thing I’ve ever come across. And I want to keep him.”

“You what, now? Did I just hear Remington Yates say that he wants to keep a man? For how long?”

Remy sighed and closed his eyes, conjuring his boyfriend’s pretty, androgynous face and his green eyes. “For as long as he’ll have me.”

“The lad must be as bendy as a pretzel then,” his friend shot back.

“Fuck you, Rafe.”

Rafael just chuckled. “Been there, done that. Sorry, I’m just surprised. What’s so different about him that you can imagine him as your... what is he exactly?”

“He’s my boyfriend. What’s different? I... I can’t let him go.”

“You mean you’re possessive?”

Remy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, but that’s not what I mean. At night, Rafe. I can’t let him go after we have sex. It’s almost a compulsion and it freaked me the fuck out the first few times, but I need to hold him. All night long.”

“Bloody hell, Remy.” His friend laughed. A deep, loud, amused laugh. He could just imagine the other man brushing the tears out of his eyes. Fucker. “Can’t say I ever expected that day to come, but I sure hoped you’d someday find that illusive man who’d put up with you.”

He bristled. “What’s that mean?”

“Aww, come on. You’re a control freak who gets cranky when he can’t win. Just as you love to dictate in the courtroom, you crave dominating in the bedroom,” Rafe elaborated. Damn man knew him too well.

“I don’t think we should talk about our kinks in the bedroom now. I’m not the one who—”

His friend quickly interrupted him. “Yeah, yeah. Just saying that boyfriend of yours would have to be a saint.”

That had Remy grinning. “Not a saint, but too good for someone like me anyway.” A meeting between Rafe and Corey would sure be interesting. He’d never deliberately introduced one of his men to his best friend. There had been no need, for he didn’t spend time with them outside of a bedroom.

“You won’t follow that statement by saying crap like
I’ll let him go so he can find happiness,
will you?”

Remy snorted. “How long have we known each other?”

“Right. Thought so. What’s his name? Tell me about Mr. Perfect.”

Fiddling with the lid on his extra big milky coffee, Remy smiled that sappy smile any man fell victim to at one point of his life. “His name is Corey. He’s an accountant at a construction company. I had an appointment with his boss and Corey thought the best way to get my attention would be to douse me in cold coffee.”

Rafe snickered. “Well, that’s just hilarious and cute. Oh, and it worked pretty well, don’t you think?”

“Yeah...”

“Something’s bothering you.”

He rolled his eyes at his friend’s words, then shot back, “You’re gay, not a woman. You shouldn’t be able to read that much into one muttered
yeah.
”

“I’m fabulous like that. Now spill.”

Well, Rafael was his best friend. The man had to earn the title somehow. “All right. Corey wants... things.”

“Oh, is he kinky?”

“No, you perv!” Remy laughed, then sobered again. “He wants things I’m not sure how to give.”

The other man groaned through the line. “Could you maybe be a bit more specific? I’m thinking of a thousand answers at once now.”

“I should so degrade you to a mere acquaintance for that statement,” he groused. “Fine, I’ll give you some specifics. Corey is the picket fence guy. He wants commitment, cuddling on the sofa, getting the groceries together, and probably kids someday.”

“Okay, I see. Do
you
want that, too?”

Before he’d met Corey, his answer would’ve been a loud, clear, and firm
no.
Crazy how one person could change another person’s life so deeply. “Yes, I want it. It scares me shitless, but I want all that with Corey.”

“Now I don’t understand your problem.”

“I can’t tell him,” he shouted, then lowered his voice again as he remembered that he was still at the office. “I’m always trying, but I... I’m stuck, Rafe. It’s driving me mad that I want him so much but don’t know how to go about it. When he looks at me, I know that he’s waiting for me to say something. Then the moment passes and his face takes on this defeated expression. What if he gets the wrong impression and thinks I want to get rid of him?”

“Remy, you’re a lawyer. You make your money by talking the whole day.” Unfortunately, his friend’s soothing voice did nothing to calm him down this time.

“I know! I’m fucked up. Something is wrong with me.” He almost knocked over the coffee cup while wildly gesturing with his arms. Just a quick grab for the cup and the plastic lid prevented him from soaking his files.