Not Safe for Work (6 page)

They didn’t have a clue who I was really sleeping with, and all I could do was grin to myself.

I concentrated on my work as much as I could. I was aware of the others cracking jokes and throwing the occasional office supply, but didn’t pay any attention. I just tuned my senses to the blaring music and let my mind go someplace far quieter. Not that it needed much encouragement. From the moment I’d woken up this morning with my body still aching, and I’d realized the weekend hadn’t been a dream, I hadn’t been able to forget it.

Whenever it slipped from the forefront of my mind, something dragged it right back into the center of my consciousness. The collar of my shirt brushing my neck right where his lips and breath had done so last night. Bianca’s perfume, glue fumes, coffee and every smell that wasn’t Rick’s cologne or our mingling sweat—everything made my senses seek out what they couldn’t find.

An hour or so into my shift, I wandered down to the supply room with a list of crap I needed to continue with the model. Though our communal room was huge, it had been too crowded with all the tool chests, boxes, crates and rolls of various materials that Teagan and I used on a regular basis, so when the accounting department moved upstairs last year, we’d taken over someone’s vacant office. Walking down the hall to get a coil of wire or a sheet of acrylic was annoying sometimes, but other times—like today—it was nice to step out and collect my thoughts.

As if these thoughts could be collected. In a couple of hours, I had to be in the same room with Rick, but not in the same bed. Not until tonight. And I was losing my fucking mind.

In the supply room, I riffled through three drawers before I remembered that the tubes of cement were in the drawer clearly marked Cements & Adhesives. After staring blankly at a shelf for a good thirty seconds, I found the piece of foam-core I’d been looking for right in front of my face. It was probably just as well I didn’t find the spare X-ACTO blades—which were in a drawer under my modeling table back in the NSFW Zone—because I did not need to be handling anything sharp right then.

I rubbed my eyes. Fuck. If I couldn’t get my head together now, I was going to be a wreck when it came time for the meeting.

The door opened behind me, and I turned around as Teagan stepped into the room.

She eyed me. “You get lost in here?”

“No. I…” I looked down at the supplies I’d gathered and tucked the foam-core board under my arm. “Just making sure I found everything.”

“Mmhmm. You’ve been out of it since you got here. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

She cocked her head. “Cal’s mom really ran you into the ground, didn’t she?”

“Yes, Teagan. That’s what happened.”

She snickered and brushed past me. As she pulled open the drawer where we kept paint, she said, “So who is she really?”

I actually felt a little guilty that Teagan still thought I was straight. I was closer to her than anyone else in this building, but even after almost ten years in the same office, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that the woman I was dating was actually a man.

She turned around, eyebrows up. “Jon?”

I shook myself. “Sorry. And her name is none of your business.”

Teagan huffed. She pulled a couple of bottles from the drawer and closed it. “Well, even if you won’t share the fun details, I’m glad you’re getting laid.” She elbowed me playfully as we headed for the door. “It’s good to see you smiling like this.”

“Smiling like what?”

Teagan held the door as she rolled her eyes. “Like a man who got something this weekend that he’s been needing for a long, long time.”

I couldn’t argue with that, could I?

Chapter Eight

No client had warranted as many meetings as Rick’s company did on a weekly basis. It made sense, though—they were aggressively revitalizing the city, especially the downtown area. During the real estate crash, they’d swooped in and bought millions of dollars in property, mostly from companies that had gone bankrupt. It had been a smorgasbord of foreclosures, and they’d bought acres and acres of land. For some of it, they worked hard to keep businesses open. They lowered leases for struggling companies to help them recover from the economic downturn, which ultimately forced other landlords to do the same. According to a report released a few months ago, that alone had saved about twenty percent of businesses that had been otherwise doomed to fail during the worst of the recession.

Other properties had old, decrepit structures on them, or obsolete ones for businesses that had failed. Those were, one by one, being torn down and replaced with new state-of-the-art structures—a low-rent office building where a decrepit factory used to be, museums and such to attract tourists, a series of hotels ranging from inexpensive to five-star luxury to house those tourists. He and his business partners were giving the city the facelift it desperately needed, and they were pouring money into Mitchell & Forsythe to help make it happen. With that many projects going, and with Rick and Dion as heavily involved as they were in every step of the process, it was no wonder they were in our building so often. And our bosses insisted on Teagan and me being present more often than not.

So at eleven o’clock sharp, I put aside the windows I’d been trying to install in my current model and stood up. “Ready, Teagan?”

“Fuck. Is it that time already?”

“Yep.”

Teagan groaned. “And Marie is on the warpath today.”

“Great.” I took a long swallow of cool coffee. “Well, wish us luck, guys.”

“Should we all gather round and lay hands on you?” Cal asked. “For, you know, protection or something?”

“Cal, damn it, we’ve been through this,” I said. “You are not touching me.”

He showed his palms. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep you from getting eaten alive.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I muttered.

“Ungrateful bastard,” Scott said around the pen in his mouth. “We’ll light some candles and sacrifice a virgin for you, though.”

“Thanks, man, you’re a real pal.”

Teagan brandished an X-ACTO knife. “You heard him, Cal. We need a virgin sacrifice for our safety, so—”

“Shut up.”

As we headed out the door, Bianca called out, “Ogle Pierce for me!”

I almost stumbled, but Teagan answered, “Always do, baby. Always do.”

Jesus. I’d forgotten those two had a thing for him. Couldn’t blame them. Who could? Cal was convinced they were just in love with Rick’s money, but Dion, Horizon’s CFO, was just as loaded as Rick, and they barely gave him a second look. I didn’t bother debunking Cal’s theories or backing up the women because I didn’t want to tip my own hand. There was so much more to Rick than money. So much more. Holy—

“Hey.” Teagan elbowed me as we continued down the hall. “You’re zoning out again, McNeill.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Clearly I need more coffee.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just stay focused in the meeting, okay?”

“Of course.”

I’ll try, anyway.

Yeah right.

The meeting turned out to be hell, but not for the usual reasons. Oh, there was the usual death by PowerPoint, endless yammering about shit I didn’t care about, and terse, unreasonable demands from my boss. There was also the restlessness that comes with needing to get something done to meet a deadline but being unable to go do it.

That wasn’t what did me in this time.

Rick was hot. It was that simple. Especially now that I knew what he was hiding beneath that tailored suit. I was a captive audience too, sitting around a broad table with nothing to do but look right at him and listen.

On some level, I was aware that he was explaining a new project he wanted to break ground on sometime next year. Something about a new convention center overlooking the river. A massive project with a price tag that had enough zeros to give the firm’s entire upper echelon wet dreams for months.

Something like that, anyway. The content was all white noise to me, because all I heard was his voice.

He was completely focused and didn’t seem to notice me at all, which was good, of course, but
how the hell did he do it?
The more he spoke in his stern
this is what I want and I won’t accept any less
tone, the more I heard the echoes of his breathless whispers in my ears. He talked about cold, calculated numbers and strategies. I heard him moaning and begging and damn near sobbing for more. Someone asked a question, to which he gave a sharp “yes”, and my mind superimposed a very different “yes” in its place.

McNeill, focus
. I rubbed my eyes and cleared my throat. I doubled my efforts to concentrate on what he was saying, but all I managed to do was focus even harder on
him
.

Another form of distraction started creeping in. The weight of my job—not to mention those of my crew—pressed down on my shoulders. With CGI and 3D printing replacing a lot of people like me, my prospects weren’t great. There weren’t many options for a dinosaur, and with three kids in college, I couldn’t afford to gamble with my income.

I let my gaze drift toward Rick. He was watching Mitchell, who was presenting something I was ignoring. I wasn’t really risking anything, was I? If Rick and I stood up right now and announced that we were sleeping together…

At that thought, I had to clench my jaw to keep from chuckling. I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to realize it, but my bosses wouldn’t can me for this. They stopped just short of offering to suck Rick’s and Dion’s dicks. My job was probably more bulletproof than it had ever been, because they were hardly going to fire the man who
was
sucking his dick. Or getting his dick sucked.

A tingle ran up my spine.
Tonight
.

As subtly as I could, I pulled my attention away from Rick and looked down at the notes in front of me, but the damage was done. The letters on the page may as well have rearranged themselves into a pornographic sketch of everything I had in mind for this evening with Rick. For the things I planned to do to the man who was so cool and collected now, but would be wide-eyed and pleading later.

Fuck. I’m never going to be able to concentrate around him.

Unless we’re naked. Then I’ll… Oh God. Is it five o’clock yet
?

Maybe this would wear off eventually. The novelty of our dark little secret would fade, and he’d be The Rich Client again, not my after-hours submissive. Then I could hear his voice without feeling the hot, mid-orgasm release of breath beside my neck, or the—

“Jon.”

I blinked and looked up. My boss glared at me like a schoolmarm, eyeing me over her frameless glasses.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

She exhaled sharply, a breath that screamed impatience. “I asked for an ETA for the models for this project.” She gestured over her shoulder at the artist’s rendition on the screen.

Beside her, Rick smothered a laugh.

Oh, you’re going to pay for that tonight, Pierce…

I sat up, clearing my throat again as I quickly rifled through the specs on the table in front of me. “If the rest of our calendar is clear, I’d say about…” I paused, running it all through my head. “Two weeks.”

In the same instant, Teagan said, “Three weeks.”

Marie’s eyes darted back and forth between us before she nodded sharply. “Two weeks, then.”

Under the table, Teagan kicked me, the heel of her boot hitting my ankle just right to nearly make me curse aloud. I shot her a glare, and she sent it right back.

As Marie went on with the meeting, I fought the urge to mutter a few obscenities under my breath, and they weren’t directed at Teagan or Marie. I knew better. I knew damn well to always overestimate lead times for everything, because Marie would take the lowest estimate and hold us to it. In fact, we’d barely get started on the project before she’d start shaving hours and days off the allotted time. Shit.

Rick turned to me, and his eyebrows flicked up.
Everything okay?

I nodded subtly. He was still going to pay for that little snicker, though.

“Well.” Marie clasped her hands together. “That about wraps us up. Jon, are you still going to have the Rainier model completed by noon tomorrow?”

“Barring any unforeseens, yes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Just get it to me on time.”

“I’ll work it in,” I said through gritted teeth.

On the way back to the NSFW Zone, Teagan elbowed me. “What the
fuck
were you thinking? Two weeks for something that involved? Are you insane?”

“We can do it. We always do.”

“Yeah, we
can
, but that gives us zero room for error.”

“I know,” I muttered.

“Christ. You know she’s going to staple our balls to that deadline.” She put her hand on my arm and stopped us both. “Jon, I’m serious.
Are
you okay today?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’ve been out of it all morning, and then…” She gestured back down the hall. “You spaced out during a Horizon meeting. I thought you were just getting laid, but…” She shook her head. “What is
wrong
?”

“Teagan, I’m fine.” I showed my palms. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

She eyed me skeptically, her piercings catching the light as she furrowed her brow.

“Everything’s fine. Just—”
I fucked the client. I can’t get Rick out of my mind. I think getting involved with him must have been a mistake, but I can’t decide because it was
that
damned hot
. I cleared my throat. “Some personal shit.”

The piercings rose a little higher. “Jon, are—”

“I’m fine.”

She watched me for a moment, then sighed as if she knew there was no point in pushing. “I doubt that, so whatever it is, if you need to talk, let me know.”

“Will do.” We resumed walking, and I added, “So, think we can get that sucker built in two weeks?”

“Don’t have much choice, do we?” She glared at me, but a smirk played at her lips.

I laughed. “Then I guess we should get to work on it.”

* * * * *

Back in the NSFW Zone, I’d barely started—this would be another day of ill-fitting windows that didn’t want to cooperate, apparently—when the music suddenly shifted from a hip-hop mess to
The Imperial Death March
. Clearing throats, creaking chairs and clicking mice added an out-of-step percussion line to the ominous music, and a second later, the door opened.

Marie walked in, resting one hand on the doorknob. She cocked her head, listening to the music, then eyed Scott, who quickly switched it off.

“I see everyone’s hard at work,” she said flatly.

“As always,” Teagan said with the most artificial cheerfulness she could muster. I didn’t have to look up to know when the two of them made eye contact. The tension in the room raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

Eventually, someone looked away, and Marie went on with why she was here. As she interrogated everyone in turn about their current statuses and ETAs, I focused my attention on slicing off a sliver of plastic from the edge of an uncooperative miniature windowpane. I wasn’t sure an X-ACTO knife was the best thing to be using when my hands shook like this, but I needed to focus on something, and come hell or high water, I needed to get this window in.

Come on, McNeill
.

I gritted my teeth and willed my hands to behave. They weren’t as compliant as they usually were, though. Not as compliant as Rick’s would have—

I shook myself. This was getting ridiculous. Granted, it was only my first day back at work after That Weekend, but my boss didn’t need to know. As long as I kept up on my work, which meant not thinking about how sexy he looked on his knees with my hand in his hair and my cock in his mouth. No thinking about coming inside him.

The X-ACTO knife slipped, narrowly missing the side of my thumb.

Get it together, idiot
.

Finally, the window looked like it was going to fit. I carefully nudged it into place with my finger and a pair of tweezers. Just needed to line it up and—

The door opened again, letting in the sounds of footsteps and Mitchell in mid-conversation: “…done by the end of the week, but have a look at the in-progress structures.”

I could feel Teagan’s hackles going up—we both hated when clients came in to see unfinished models, since they usually didn’t look great at this stage. My hair stood on end again, but not for the reason it usually did when someone brought a client in here. I knew who was coming in even before I raised my head.

And when I did raise my head, our eyes locked from across the room, and for two full seconds, the world was silent. People were still talking, clicking, moving, but for that fleeting moment, I couldn’t hear them. We were too early into this to have any of that telepathy that long-term lovers developed, but his eyes and the hitch in his breath were clear enough—he heard me and I heard him.

I am going to do so many things to you tonight.

I know. I can’t wait.

Clearing our throats, we both jerked out gazes away, and the world around us resumed its noisy activity.

“Jon.”

I jumped. The window clattered onto the terrace. Clearing my throat, I looked up, eyebrows raised in a silent
yes?

Marie nodded toward the model in front of me. “I assume that will be finished on time?”

Assuming he doesn’t distract me to the point I accidentally cut off a finger
.

“Yes, I just have to finish a few things.”

“Good.”

The silence lingered. Rick and Mitchell joined her, and they watched me. No, no, they were just looking at the model, Marie and Mitchell inspecting it for any flaw that needed to be remedied before Rick noticed it. And Rick was most definitely not looking at me. I chewed the inside of my cheek and focused as hard as I could on the fucking window that wouldn’t slide into place. Not an easy task when their eyes were, I was sure of it, locked on me.