Not Safe for Work (14 page)

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Authors: L. A. Witt

Tags: #Gay;male/male;m/m;corporate;businessman;bondage;kink;office romance

BOOK: Not Safe for Work
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“How the hell did I get so lucky?” I cradled his face and kissed him. “Even when you’re on top, you’re the perfect sub.”

“I live to please.”

“And you do it so well.” I drew back to meet his gaze. “I’m not kidding—when I’m running on all eight cylinders again, you’re getting the night of your life.”

“Every night I’ve spent with you so far has been the night of my life.” Rick smiled, caressing my face. “The only thing I regret is not pinging you sooner on Leathr because this is perfect.”

My heart fluttered. Yeah, it was, wasn’t it? I couldn’t even kid myself about him being out of my league anymore. Whatever differences we had outside the bedroom didn’t matter when we were like this. Rick was the submissive I’d been looking for.

He cocked his head. “You’re spacing out. You okay?”

“Yeah.” I smiled, drawing him closer. “Just plotting how I’m going to make all this up to you. Because I am
definitely
going to.”

He laughed softly. “Well, I have to admit, I’m looking forward to whatever you come up with.”

I flashed him a toothy grin. “Oh, just you wait…”

Chapter Nineteen

My reprieve was exactly what I needed, especially since I spent it sleeping, tangled up with Rick, or both. It was far too short, though, and all too soon, it was over. Back to the grind.

Before I went to work, I took a walk around the park across the street, just to give myself another half hour or so of freedom before I returned to that fluorescent-lit prison. The walk did me almost as much good as the sleep, sex and coffee. A little air, a little sunshine, some exercise, all on the heels of some long-overdue time with Rick—why yes, it
was
possible not to feel like a zombie.

I’d barely stepped into the building when Marie and Mitchell cornered me in the hall.

“I hope you got some rest?” Marie inclined her head.

“Yes, definitely. Thank you.”

“Good.” Mitchell nodded. “Because you’re going to be busy for a while.”

“Well, I definitely appreciate the time—” A yawn cut me off. “Sorry. Sorry. Still tired.”

Mitchell scowled. Marie glanced at him, then at me. “Why don’t I run to Starbucks and get you and Teagan some coffee. I think we owe you at this point.”

“That would be awesome. Thank you.”

Mitchell’s lips tightened. He’d probably have words with Marie behind closed doors about splurging on fourteen dollars’ worth of coffee for the people who’d just had a break from working their fingers to the bone for these projects. Whatever.

“You go ahead and get to work.” Marie nodded toward the NSFW Zone. “I’ll be back with coffee shortly.”

“Thank you.”

When I stepped into the Zone, the rest of the crew wasn’t here yet, but Teagan was, and she looked nearly as exhausted as she had when I’d last seen her.

“Hey,” I said. “Rough weekend?”

“Ugh.” She reached for her coffee cup. “Ever heard the phrase ‘so tired you can’t sleep’? That was me the last few days.”

“Really?” I shrugged off my jacket. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that.”

She glared at me. “Lucky bastard. I was too damned tired, and I couldn’t relax enough because I needed to get back and finish this.” She scowled and pointed at the model. Then she drained her coffee cup, tossed it into the trash and sighed. “So I take it you got some sleep?”

“Hours. In fact, I think I might have gotten some of your sleep rations. So sorry.”

“Fuck you.” She started to put a piece into place on the model but stopped, her eyes narrowing. She cocked her head. “Wait. Something’s not right here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are way too chipper for—” Her eyes were suddenly huge. “You didn’t just sleep, did you?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Jon McNeill, you son of a bitch. You got laid, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t even try to bullshit me.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “You scored, didn’t you?”

My jaw dropped. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know. Scored. Had sex. Fucked.
Got laid
.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I know what it means. What makes you think I did?”

“Because I know you.”

“Yes, Teagan. You got me.” I draped my jacket over the back of my chair. “I spent fourteen blissful hours tangled up in the sheets with a couple of hookers named Sleep and Rest.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “Come on, fess up. Your woman stayed over, didn’t she? I know she did because you have that smile on your face you only get when you’ve been getting laid.”

I laughed and shrugged. “Okay, so maybe I did.”

“Bastard.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, good for you. And all of us. You’re a much more tolerable human being when you—”

“Gee, thanks.”

She shrugged. “Just saying. And hey, if she’s willing to put up with you after you’ve been working like this, then either you are one hell of a lay, or there’s more to it than just bumping uglies.”

I raised an eyebrow. No one in the Zone was as crude as Teagan when she hadn’t slept in a while. “I’ll take that as a compliment to my sexual prowess, then.”

“You would.”

“What? Are you implying I’m
not
good in bed? As if you’d have any possible way of knowing that?”

“No, I just think there’s more going on than you’re willing to admit, which is just adorably Jon McNeill.”

“What are you talking about?” I laughed in spite of the sudden rush of heat to my cheeks.

“Even when I’ve asked about her, you haven’t said two words about her.” She shot me a pointed look. “And the only time I’ve ever known you to not kiss and tell
at all
is when you’ve got feelings for someone.”

Or when it might make things awkward at work
. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Bullshit,” she said.

“If it was, I would tell you.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but just then, the door opened and Marie came in with two towering Starbucks cups.

“Figured you two could use some coffee,” she said.

“Oh, Marie, I could kiss you right now,” Teagan said. They looked at each other, both blinking in surprise. Teagan cleared her throat. “Sorry. Sleep deprivation. Makes my mouth move before my brain does.”

Marie laughed quietly but said nothing.

Teagan took her coffee. “Anyway, thanks for the coffee. Now I just need to find a rubber tube and a syringe—”


Teagan
.” I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “You’re supposed to drink it, not shoot up with it.”

“Hey, desperate times, desperate measures.” She gestured at me with her coffee cup. “I don’t tell you how to stay awake, you don’t tell me.”

Marie laughed, then gestured at my model. “How are you coming along?”

“So far, so good. I’ll let you know if the ETA changes.”

“Okay, perf—” She grimaced in Teagan’s direction. “Teagan, must you put that so close to the model?”

“What? Here?” Teagan looked at her coffee cup, which was right beside the front steps of the nearly completed building, and shrugged. “It’s fine. I haven’t knocked one over yet.”

Marie pursed her lips, and for a moment, I thought she was going to order her to move the coffee cup. Instead, she simply said, “Just be careful.”

Marie was oddly calm and relaxed this morning, especially with so many projects going right now. I already knew Rick had been behind our day off, and he must have also adamantly reassured her and Mitchell that the Horizon Developing projects weren’t as urgent as they’d thought. As long as Rick wasn’t in a huge rush, then Marie wasn’t either, probably because the other partners weren’t breathing fire down her neck. He said jump, we said how high. He said chill out, we could all relax.

Rick, I owe you so big.

She gestured at my model. “Anyway, looks good. How much more time do you think you need?”

“Barring any unforeseens, I should have it to you by the end of the day Monday.”

Her lips tightened. “That’s cutting it close, but… Well, let me know when it’s done.”

“Will do.”

Marie left Teagan and me to our work. After the door banged shut behind Marie, Teagan let out a sharp breath.

“Jesus Christ on a pogo stick,” Teagan said. “You’re in a good mood. She’s being civil. Is she getting laid too?”

I choked on my coffee, coughing a couple of times in between laughing. “Damn it, Teagan, I did
not
need that mental image.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when I picture you with someone.”

“Then quit picturing it.”

“Quit coming in here with that smug ‘I got my dick wet’ smirk on your face, and I’ll—”

“Classy, Teagan.” I chuckled. “And what the hell? I thought your man put out on a regular basis.”

“He does, but not when I’m in deadline mode.”

“Well, there’s nothing that says you have to go home and be a—”

“Watch yourself, McNeill.” She eyed me. “Now come on, I want to know about this girl who’s making your heart pitter patter. If nothing else, to get the images of Beelzebub copulating out of my head.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Seriously.”
Is there?

She cocked her head and batted her eyes. “Come on, Jon. This coffee is only going to do so much. I need juicy gossip to keep me awake”

Oh, this gossip would wake you up quick, fast and in a hurry, my dear
. “T, it’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“If I make something up just to keep you awake, would—”

“Damn you, McNeill, this is a matter of life and death.”

I laughed. “Since when is my sex life a matter of life and death for anyone but me?”

“You don’t keep me awake with gossip, I fall asleep, this model doesn’t get done, and Dawson murders me.” She paused. “No pressure or anything.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve said yourself you’d rather gouge out your own eyeballs than hear about the things I do in bed.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing. I want to know
who
you’re doing.”

“You know as well as everyone else.”

“What?” She straightened so fast, she nearly knocked over the coffee Marie had been worried about. “Who?”

I grinned. “Calvin’s mom, of course.”

She glared at me. “Liar.”

I picked up my coffee and raised it in a mock toast. “That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“This isn’t over, McNeill.” She gestured menacingly with a tube of glue. “I will find out.”

I laughed, but deep down, a knot tightened in my gut. I had no intention of telling her or anyone else, but something told me she was absolutely right.

She would find out. No matter how hard Rick and I tried to be discreet, this secret was going to follow us to work sooner or later.

I tried to remind myself it wouldn’t matter if it did. My crew might rib me for it. My bosses might not be thrilled about it. They couldn’t fire me, though.

Still, I wanted this between Rick and me. It was nobody else’s business anyway. I sure as hell didn’t want anyone here to know it was happening until I’d figured out what it was.

So I kept my mouth shut and kept working.

* * * * *

My ETA for the current model turned out to be a bit optimistic. I
could
have finished it on time, even after my two-day tryst with sleep and Rick, had my materials cooperated. They didn’t, though, and after a piece of foam-core inexplicably crumbled and some paint reacted badly to some cement, I had to do some major last-minute repairs. It was four more days before the damned thing was done.

But at long last, it was done. My remaining projects were mercifully extended, and suddenly…the tornado was gone. The sky cleared. Just like that, everything in the office was back to normal, and we could breathe again.

The firm bestowed upon Teagan and me a few well-earned days off. She probably spent most of hers sleeping. I divided mine between sleep and Rick. My head no longer ached for lack of sleep, but my body did ache from some long nights with him, and I was looking forward to having the time and energy to give him what he really wanted. This weekend? It was
on.
We had plans that involved rope and a whole lot of lube, and I was counting down the hours. I couldn’t wait to make him moan again.

In the meantime, everything in the Zone was back to normal. The room was filled with the usual sounds of clicking, typing, cutting and bantering, with the background filled by some band I didn’t recognize screaming out of the speakers.

“I’m actually proud of you guys,” Teagan said to the drafters. “Jon and I were gone for days, and none of you managed to burn the building down.”

Scott shoved a chip in his mouth. “Actually, Cal tried to set Bianca on fire.”

“What?” I stopped typing an e-mail and eyed him. “First, why? Second, who the hell let him anywhere near anything that could set someone on fire?”

“I did not try to set her on fire,” Cal said. “She got her sleeve in the middle of things while I was lighting—”

“I did not,” Bianca said. “I was trying to get the lighter away from you, and you tried to set my shirt on fire.”

Teagan laughed. “You know, Cal, there are easier and less dangerous ways of getting a woman’s shirt off.”

“No shit,” I said. “You don’t have to
burn
it off.”

“That’s about the only way he’ll ever see me without a shirt,” Bianca muttered.

I laughed. “Okay, never mind, Cal. Apparently you were on the right track after all.”

“Shut up, McNeill.” Bianca threw a pen at me. It hit my shoulder, bounced off and landed on my desk. I picked it up and flung it back, but missed and hit Cal instead.

“Hey!” he said around a potato chip. “Watch it, old man.”

“What are you going to do?” I put my hands up. “Set me on fire?”

“Fuck no. I don’t want to see you with your shirt—”

“Incoming,” Scott said. The music abruptly died.

“Oh shit.” Cal craned his neck. “Satan’s coming, and she’s got Armageddon eyes.”

I glanced up. “Is that like having Bette Davis eyes?”

“Uh, no, it’s like—”

The door flew open, and if looks could kill, I’d have been a dead man.

Marie stabbed a finger in my direction. “We’ve got a problem, Jon.”

Mice stopped clicking. Gum stopped snapping. The only sound was Silent Dave’s fingers skittering across his keyboard.

My blood ran cold, and I recoiled slightly. “Okay, so—”

“The client’s rejecting the Elmhurst model, and I can’t blame them one little bit,” she snapped.

I swallowed. My heart sank—after all that work, now what? “What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t match the drawing,” she said through her teeth. “It’s off.
Way
fucking off.”

“Off?” I shook my head. “That’s not possible. I went over the drawing three times before I turned it in to make sure it matched.”

“Maybe you should have checked a fourth time,” she said. “I don’t have time for this shit, Jon. I don’t tolerate sloppiness or errors that make me or the firm look bad in front of the goddamned clients. You’d better thank your lucky stars this wasn’t a Horizon project.”

I bit back a response about being able to placate the CEO of Horizon if necessary. I didn’t have to look to know everyone in the room was staring at us, wondering just how badly I’d fucked up, and I wondered the same thing as I rose slowly and headed toward the cabinet where we kept blueprints. “Let’s take a look at the drawing, because I’m sure—”

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