Not Safe for Work (16 page)

I ran my thumbnail around his nipple, drawing another whimper out of him. “You sound like you want to come. Do you want to come, Rick?”

He moaned around my cock.

“You
do
sound like you want to come.”

Another moan.

“I’m going to let you come, but not yet. First, you’re going to count to twenty.
Slowly
.” I withdrew my cock from his mouth. “And when you reach twenty, you can come. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Start counting.”

“One.” He licked his lips. “Two.”

“Good.” I ran a fingertip down the center of his chest, toward his very, very erect dick.

Rick moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You haven’t lost count al—”

“
Three
.” His hands tightened into fists. “Four. Five.”

“Slow down.” I teased his balls with my fingertips. “Remember I said to count
slowly
.”

“S-sorry.” He paused, holding his breath for a moment. “Six.”

I cupped his balls, pressing two fingers beneath them, and his helpless moan made me grin.

“Seven,” he slurred. He exhaled hard as I kept teasing him, and groaned as he said, “Eight.”

I took my hand off his balls. He swallowed—relief? Frustration? Could’ve been anything.

“Nine.” He swept his tongue across his lips. “Ten.”

“Good.” I leaned down, and added, “Keep counting.”

And just as he murmured, “Eleven,” I took his thick cock in my mouth.

“Oh shit…” He released a strangled sound, and his whole body tensed like he wanted to fuck my mouth, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move at all, and even if he could, he didn’t dare because I’d forbidden it.

“T-twelve.” He followed it with a string of profanity, and then managed to slur, “Thir’een.”

I lifted my head. “Clearly, Rick.”

He swept his tongue across his wet lips again, squirming as the machine kept fucking him and I kept stroking him. “Thirteen.”

“Good.”

He smiled and then closed his eyes. “Fourteen.”

I leaned down again and swallowed his cock until he just pushed my gag reflex.

“Fif…
fifteen
.”

I slid my hand over his balls. As I gently teased the soft skin with featherlight touches, his dick stiffened in my mouth. The faint taste of salt made my own balls tighten.

Not yet, Rick. Still five more numbers.

“S-sixteen. Shit.” He was trembling even harder now, the ropes creaking with every movement, and for a moment, I was sure he was going to lose it, that I’d have to punish him, but then he groaned. “Seventeen.”

God, I loved it when a man could control himself like this. When he could get right to the edge and stay there, disciplined even when he wanted nothing more than to let go.

“Eighteen.”

I took my hand off his balls and felt for the machine’s controller.

“Nine—holy
shit
!” Despite the ropes, his hips jerked and his legs twitched as the machine picked up speed. His dick could not possibly have gotten any harder between my lips, and I envied the dildo for being in his ass right then—he must have been insanely tight as he fought to stay in control.

“Nineteen. Nineteen.
Fuck!
” The words came out as sobs. Tortured, trembling, ragged, delicious little sobs.

I squeezed his cock just a little harder.

“T-twent—”

Semen flooded my tongue. His whole body jerked again, as much as the restraints would allow, and he kept slurring, “Twenty…twenty…twenty…” as he came hard in my mouth.

As he started to relax, I lifted off him. He sighed, eyes squeezed shut, and for a moment, the only sound was the steady whirring of the machine that still steadily fucked him.

I slowed the machine and then stopped it, but didn’t pull the toy free yet. Then I came around, gently turned his head toward me and pushed my cock into his mouth. He opened willingly, moaning softly as he accepted every inch I gave him. I pulled out a little, then pushed back in.

“You did good,” I whispered, stroking his hair as I slowly fucked his mouth. “Most people don’t last beyond twelve. Should’ve…known you were controlled enough.” I rocked my hips faster as the edges of my vision darkened. “Might have to come up with something more challenging.”

Rick groaned around my cock, and God knew if it was a sound of arousal or “oh shit,” but either way, it was fucking hot. I gripped his hair and thrust between his lips, careful not to choke him, especially as my orgasm rapidly closed in.

“Might have to play with that machine more too,” I breathed. “Watching you lie there helpless, and getting fucked, I could do that all damned night.”

This time, he whimpered, and that was all I needed. I held his hair tighter and cursed through grinding teeth, clinging to what little focus I had left so I wouldn’t force myself too far into his throat as I came. He kept me coming too—swirling his tongue around the head of my cock, groaning as he swallowed every drop—until I finally had to pull out just so I could breathe again.

He swept his tongue across his lips as he gazed up at me with those beautiful eyes.

“Fuck, your mouth is awesome.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You were amazing tonight. We’re done.”

He released his breath, and the karabiner tumbled from his fingers. “Thank you.”

I kissed him again, this time gently on the lips, and murmured, “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chapter Twenty-One

After a shower together—I didn’t trust his legs to hold him up quite yet—we got into bed. Rick downed a bottle of water, and then we both dozed for a little while. This was the kind of exhaustion I didn’t mind. The bone-deep heaviness from work was a bitch, but postcoital fatigue? Joints still aching from every motion? Yeah, I could cope with that.

Beside me, Rick stirred. He rubbed his eyes, and my heart fluttered at the faint welts on his forearm. There’d be more on his legs, and those would probably be visible tomorrow. The ones on his wrist would be beneath his shirt sleeves, but if the cuffs pulled up, and if the light were just right…

My God.

Rick Pierce. At the office. Wearing welts from ropes I’d put on him. And he’d probably still be feeling everything the machine and I had done tonight.

Why yes, I could get used to this arrangement again, and I was so, so relieved that we had time for each other now.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“So good. Especially now.”

“Now? Compared to…?”

“Earlier was hot as hell, but this…” He looked up at me, and his voice slurred as he spoke. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a Dom, and I think I missed this part more than anything.”

“Afterward, you mean?”

“Mmhmm.” He rubbed his eyes again, and when he met mine, his were a bit clearer. “Sleeping alone for a long time kind of makes you appreciate just being in bed with someone.”

I nodded. “It really does. I’ve been looking forward to all of this—fucking in the dungeon, and…this.”

His eyelids slid down, and he slowly ran his tongue across his lips. “Well worth the wait, that’s for sure.”

“Definitely.” I paused. “I was afraid you’d lose interest in me.”

“Lose interest?” His eyes flew open. “What are you talking about? It’s taken me this long just to find someone who tops me like you do.” He ran his hand down my arm. “I’m not going to piss that away just because you’ve got work obligations.”

“Still, it’s kind of hard to maintain something like this if we never see each other. Outside of work, I mean.”

“Maybe.” He smiled. “But considering the things you do when we’re together, you’ll have to work a little harder than that to get rid of me.”

I chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Good to know. Because I’d really like to keep you around.”

He flashed a toothy grin. “Chained in your basement?”

“Do you want to be chained in my basement?”

“As often as possible.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “In all seriousness, I keep thinking we should do other things. Go out. Watch movies. Something.” He lifted his head and kissed me. “But every time we’re alone…”

“Me too. Especially since we haven’t
been
alone much, but that’s going to change.” I kissed him this time, and gently pressed him back down to the pillow. “I suppose going out is sort of limited. It’d be just our luck we’d run into one of my bosses or something.”

He grimaced. “Yeah. There’s that. Damn it.”

“If we do decide to take this out of our respective houses, I have to say, you would be a hell of a lot of fun at a play party.”

His eyes widened. “You…really want to do that?”

“It could be fun. There’s a dungeon in town that has parties every weekend. If you’re not busy tomorrow night, we could…”

Rick quirked his lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to something like that. My ex always made it sound like subs pretty much got passed around like an hors d’oeuvre tray.”

I shook my head. “Not always.” I held him closer to me. “Only if their Dom allows it.”

“If…” He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “If we went to something like that, what if I only wanted to play with you? No one else?”

“Then no one else will touch you, or I’ll break their arm.”

“But then, why go? Isn’t that the point?”

“Not at all. The parties are fun even if you don’t share. I have quite a few friends in the community. And I like to watch people. That’s one of the things I love about bondage—the visual—so I guess I’m a bit of a voyeur.”

“Are you”—he swallowed—“an exhibitionist?”

“I can be. If the person I’m with doesn’t mind being watched.”

“It’s something I’ve never done, believe it or not.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “One of the few kinky partners I ever had wasn’t big on letting other people see me, let alone see me playing.”

“Possessive?”

“Just a bit. And the others…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess they weren’t into parties.” He searched my eyes. “How much do you like that sort of thing?”

“Are you asking if it’s something I need?”

“Well…” He paused. “I guess? Maybe I should ask, if it’s not something I want to do, is that a deal-breaker?”

“Absolutely not.” I caressed his cheek, my fingertips hissing across his five-o’clock shadow. “I’ll tell you right now, there are no deal-breakers. If you don’t want to do something, we won’t. End of story.”

He held my gaze again and slowly smiled. Without a word, he lifted his head and kissed me. As he sank back down to the pillow, though, he said, “I’m not completely opposed. I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.” I smiled back. “We can do plenty on our own. The parties are just something different. But only if you want to.”

“We’ll see.” He trailed his fingers up my arm. “For now, I think you’re all I can handle.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

His grin answered even before he whispered, “It’s a very good thing.”

“Then I don’t care if we go to parties or if I just tie you up downstairs.” I draped my arm over him, pressing against him and just enjoying the warmth of his skin against mine. “No pressure.”

Rick nodded. “No pressure.”

I leaned in and kissed him. “Stay here tonight?”

“Will you fuck me again if I do?”

“Neither of us will be able to move tomorrow.”

“Don’t care about tomorrow.” He ran featherlight fingertips down my chest. “Just care about tonight.”

“Mmhmm. And you’re getting awfully demanding for a submissive.”

His hand froze.

“Might have to punish you for that.”

He swallowed. “Punish me, how?”

“Well…” I slid my hand beneath the covers, toward his cock. “I’ll just have to make you work for the good, hard fucking I know you want.”

He licked his lips. “Anything.”

“So willing.” I teased his erection with the pad of my thumb. “I think this is going to be a long night.”

He held my gaze, and his eyes asked, loud and clear, “Promise?”

Oh yes.

I kissed him again, pushing his lips apart with my tongue.

I promise.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nothing could interrupt a relatively quiet, uneventful morning, like an ominous “Oh…
shit.
”

It was Teagan who said it, which was never good. Especially not when she looked at me from across our respective partially completed rooftops. “Uh, Jon?”

The panic in her voice straightened my spine.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She eyed her model, then looked at me again. “We’ve got a problem.”

My heart quickened. “T, I’m on two balls-to-the-wall deadlines that I can barely handle without overtime.” I gestured at the pair of models I was working on, both of which had to be done soon. “What kind of problem?”

“That bottle of cement you’re using, is it from the case we just opened in the supply room?”

My heart beat faster. “Teagan…”

“Something’s wrong with it.”

“Eating or warping?”
Please say eating. Please say eating. Please—

“Warping. Bad.”

“Motherfucker.” I turned toward my projects. Sure enough, a corner I’d finished last night had begun to warp. On closer inspection, it wasn’t the only bad spot. If the glue had been eating through the foam-core, I could have patched it with epoxy, but warping was more complicated. It fucked up how two pieces fit together, which could throw off the whole damned thing. It was like putting a jigsaw puzzle together with a piece of debris stuck between two of the pieces. Or more than two, I realized as I looked over both models and saw just how many places had warped.

I glanced at the clock. It was ten fifteen, and I had to have both of these models in Marie’s office by three thirty. If push absolutely came to shove, I’d ask for an extension, but she wouldn’t be happy about it. Better to try to solve the problem and still get it in on time, which meant it was time to call in reinforcements.

“Cal, what are you working on right now?”

“Couple of drawings for Beelzebub,” he said.

“How long before you need to turn them in, and how close are you to finishing?”

“They’re due Friday, but I’ll have them done by the end of the day. Easily. Why?”

“Save them and get over here.” I flipped open a case of X-ACTO knives. “I need your help. And see if Silent Dave can spare an hour or two.”

Fortunately, Silent Dave was available too, and I put them both to work cutting foam-core and plastic according to each drawing’s specs. They weren’t modelers, but they were drafters, so I wasn’t worried about their ability to interpret the schematics and cut the pieces correctly. Everyone in the room knew this was a major problem, or at least they knew Teagan and I were seriously stressed, because no one joked about Cal’s potential to cut off a finger.

While they worked, I carefully removed the affected area of the first model. It wouldn’t require a complete rebuild, thank God, but it wasn’t going to be a quick fix.

About an hour after Teagan discovered the crisis, Marie came in to pass on some new specs to the drafters and check on everyone’s progress. The minute she stepped into the room, her eyes darted toward Cal and Silent Dave like a predator spotting its prey.

“Calvin, David,” she said. “What are you doing? Don’t you two have other projects?”

They both looked at her, then at me, hands still and eyes wide.
Help us, boss!

“I need their help on this,” I said, focusing my attention on the pieces I was fitting together. “I’m only borrowing them for a few hours.”

“A few hours that could be used for drawings that I need as soon as—”

“They’re not due until Friday,” I said through grinding teeth, and I was pretty sure everyone in the room sucked in a startled breath. I glared at Marie. “We’re making the best of a bad situation, and if you want these done, then—”

“Yes, I want the models done,” she snapped, and gestured at the guys. “But
their
jobs aren’t optional either.”

Dave and Cal exchanged uncertain looks, and they both shrank toward the table as they kept cutting pieces while Marie and I talked over their heads.

“Jon, I need these models. We can’t—”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.” I met her gaze. “But all those times I’ve said ‘barring any unforeseens’?” I gestured sharply at the model. “
That’s
an unforeseen. I’m fixing it as fast as I—”

“How long will it take?” she demanded.

I pushed my shoulders back. “Basically, there are three options.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “They can be done on time but either falling apart because of the chemical reaction or sloppy because I didn’t have time. They can be done correctly and intact but late because I’m only one man with two hands. Or they can be done right and done on time, which means I need to borrow Cal and Dave for a few hours.” I threw her a challenging look, and she bristled, but we both knew damn well I was right.

She lifted her chin. “Fine. Get them done, and if they’re not on time, then you can explain to Mr. Pierce and Mitchell why they aren’t.”

I shrugged. “All right.”

For a moment, she didn’t move, and I was sure she wasn’t done with me, but then she turned to go, and her heels marked an irritated staccato as she stormed out of the Zone.

The door banged shut, and everyone in the room, myself included, exhaled.

“Man,” Cal said, looking up from cutting a piece of plastic. “I don’t know where you found that set of brass balls, but never ever lose them.”

“Shut up and cut,” Silent Dave muttered.

I didn’t say anything. Maybe I’d gone too far—my job was safe from termination over sleeping with Rick, but that didn’t mean I could get away with snapping at my boss like that. Frustrated or not, I shouldn’t have spoken to her that way.

As soon as I had a handle on this damned model, I’d go up to her office.

For now, though…

* * * * *

Shortly before lunch, everything for the model was cut and ready to be assembled. I couldn’t do that part yet, though, because we were waiting to see how the cement reacted with a few test pieces Teagan had put together. While those dried, I went upstairs to Marie’s office.

Stomach knotting, I tapped on her door.

“It’s open.”

I gulped, then stepped inside.

Marie looked up from typing something, and folded her hands behind her keyboard. “Jon.”

“Hey. Um.” I coughed into my fist. “Listen, I just want to talk to—”

“Can this wait until the models are finished?”

“The cement is setting up. Not much I can do for the next twenty minutes or so.”

Marie took off her glasses. “Okay.”

“I, um…” I scratched the back of my neck. “I wanted to apologize. For the way I talked to you earlier. That was uncalled for.”

My boss slowly released a breath. “I appreciate that. I probably shouldn’t have been quite so unreasonable.”

I shrugged. “You’re under a lot of pressure. We all are.”

“Still. I’m sorry too. You only have so much control over your materials.”

“Well.” I shifted my weight. “We’ve made up for the delays as much as we can. I’ll make sure the model is done as soon as possible.”

Marie nodded. “How much more time do you need?”

“We’re waiting to see if the cement sets up properly. Assuming there isn’t another reaction, and the rest of the model stays intact, I can have everything assembled by close of business tomorrow.”

“I assume you’ll need some overtime?”

My heart dropped. Overtime. Evening. So much for tonight’s plans. Goddammit.

“Yeah.” I tried to keep my increasingly negative attitude out of my voice. “I’ll…yeah. I’ll stay late and get as much done as I can.”

Marie studied me. “You’ve been putting in a lot of extra hours recently. Are you handling that all right?”

I nodded. “It’s a challenge, but what can you do?”

She chewed her lip and then put her glasses back on and turned to her monitor. “Let me look at the pending projects schedule. Give me a second.”

I tried not to fidget. The cement would be set up soon. The sooner I went back downstairs, the sooner I could get back to work.

Then she took off her glasses again and looked up at me. “There’s nothing coming down the pipe at the moment. At least, nothing that’ll be due before the weekend. Regardless of where you are with any of your projects, I want you out of here at five o’clock on Friday, and I don’t want to see you again until eight on Monday.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Do whatever overtime you need between now and then, but I want you to take this weekend completely off.” She shot me a pointed look. “Even if there’s an emergency or an urgent project, I’ll cover for you. And I’m going to make some arrangements with Teagan as well. Pressure or not, I need you two sharp. Can’t have either of you getting burned out.”

I exhaled. I should’ve known Marie of all people would get it. Despite the pressure from on high, she understood that we were human. “Thank you, Marie.”

“You’re welcome.”

I left her office and would’ve gone straight back to the NSFW Zone, but I still had one more task to take care of in person.

I took the elevator down to the parking garage. If I’d done the math correctly on the way down, everyone who’d attended the lunch meeting would be getting back right…about…

Sure enough, as I stepped out of the elevator, dress shoes were clicking on asphalt, echoing in the garage. Mitchell, Forsythe, Dion. And, of course, Rick.

I stepped aside, ostensibly to let them pass—God forbid clients have to rub elbows with working-class employees like me.

As Rick passed by, he met my gaze. I tilted my head toward the garage.

He glanced at the others and then halted, patted his pockets and looked over his shoulder. “Damn it. I left my wallet in the car.” He gestured toward the garage. “I’ll catch up with you. Conference room three, right?”

“Conference room three,” Forsythe said as they stepped into the elevator.

“All right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

His business partner gave him a sharp nod and a wave, and continued into the elevator with Mitchell and Forsythe.

Mitchell met my gaze and scowled, but before he could say anything, the doors shut. I cringed—I’d be hearing about this later.

Rick and I stepped away from the elevators and into the garage itself.

“Hey,” I said. “I won’t keep you long.”

He grinned. “You can keep me as long as you want.”

God, I wanted to kiss him. Resistance was fucking painful.

I stepped closer but didn’t let myself touch him. “Just need to talk for a second.”

“Okay.” He paused, eyeing the ceiling. “Aren’t there cameras out here?”

“Yeah.” I gestured dismissively. “But they only look at them if someone’s car gets dented or broken into. If anybody asks, you wanted to know how to find Arturo’s.”

Rick shrugged. “Fair enough. What’s up?”

I sighed. “Unfortunately, I have to bail tonight. Overtime again.”

His shoulders sank. “Fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I smiled. “
But
…my boss did guarantee me this weekend off no matter what. She doesn’t want to see my face between Friday at five and Monday at eight.” Fighting the urge to reach for him, I lowered my voice. “Which means that starting at five o’clock on Friday—”

“I’m all yours,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Please.”

Fuuuck, why couldn’t I kiss him right then?

I gulped. “Yes, you are.”

He licked his lips. “Didn’t you say that party is this weekend?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let’s do it.”

I straightened. “Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to go to one, but it doesn’t have to be this weekend. They have them every—”

“No, let’s do it this weekend. Before I talk myself out of it.”

I studied him. “If you’re worried you will talk yourself—”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” He chuckled. “It’s kind of like the first time I went skydiving. Once I got the idea in my head, I had to do it the very next day, or I was never going to do it at all. And I never regretted it once.”

“Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane? That’s just crazy talk.”

“Maybe. But it was fun. This sounds like it could be fun too.”

“All right.” I slid my hands into my pockets because I was this close to reaching for him. “I’ll meet you at my place on Friday. Around eight. Wear something that looks good but you don’t mind getting ripped.”

Rick’s breath caught. “Ripped?”

“Yes. Ripped.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Duly noted.”

“Looking forward to it.”

We exchanged one last look, and then he went to his car—maybe he really had forgotten his wallet, or maybe he was just keeping up appearances or needed to walk around for a minute. I headed for the elevator, my heart pounding and my stomach fluttering.

In the elevator, I leaned against the wall and pushed out a breath. I felt a hell of a lot better now. Marie and I had smoothed things over. My overtime had a finite end. And this weekend, I’d have Rick in a building full of kinky people and toys. So many possibilities. So many.

I grinned to myself.

Can’t fucking wait…