Chapter 11 #3
“Ms. Larson, Greg, Sheila,” Ford greeted. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up, but I have a bit of a twinge in my back from a job last night.”
Andrew held back a snort. That wasn’t the real reason he couldn’t stand right now.
But wait—Larson Manufacturing?!
Old indignation flared as Andrew remembered how angry he’d been when Ford first stole this client.
The chairs around the table pulled out to accept their occupants, all of Ford’s team on one side, given the murmur of voices, and Larson’s on the other. Thank God the table was oversized. As long as Andrew stayed close to Ford, no one should notice him even if they stretched out their legs.
“Is that something that happens often, Mr. Ford?” Larson asked.
“Back trouble? Not at all. But then, usually, I’m not helping the police chase down a suspect. I’m afraid I can’t discuss details, but I got to play at a citizen’s arrest last night. Detective Wen from the local precinct has always been a fan and believes in the idea of second chances.”
That was half true, but now he was using last night to look better in front of Larson?
The new theft hadn’t been made public yet, Vallancourt appeased by the promise that they had things under control and would deliver the thief by the end of the week.
But Andrew still felt cheated and… used, being undermined in front of a client he’d lost.
Which was when he remembered the cocoa in his hands.
Grinning to himself, Andrew carefully set the mug beneath the chair for now and reached forward to undo Ford’s pants.
Ford flinched but couldn’t call attention or risk giving away that Andrew was there. This was how Andrew finally got back at him for the precinct, even more fitting when the same client was involved.
Ford tried swatting him away but could only do so ineffectually, and Andrew finished undoing his pants and pulled him out to the open air. He was a little softened, given the cold shower, but Andrew knew he could warm him up quickly.
“Riley, spread out the schematics for our clients,” Ford said, since he couldn’t stand now. He tried closing his legs when Andrew cupped his balls and slid his thumb up the base, but the light, insistent touch had him soon opening his thighs wider.
Andrew circled his thumb around Ford’s slit, spreading the budding moisture there, and dragged his thumb down until he fondled Ford’s balls again. He shifted closer, settled between Ford’s legs, and licked a smooth stripe up his cock from base to tip.
No reaction that Andrew could tell. Not even a waver in Ford’s voice. Not that Andrew was paying too much attention to his words. For now, he focused on Ford’s hard dick in his hand, quivering beneath the attentions of his tongue.
Andrew pulled back, brought the mug up, took a long swallow of cocoa, and then quickly leaned forward and sucked Ford in at the tip.
“Noted by the—ah!” Ford cut off with a gasp, turning the unexpected exclamation of pleasure into a cough. He cleared his throat before continuing, as if something had gone down the wrong pipe, and spoke on without drawing much attention. “Noted by the colors positioned on the blueprints.”
Ford was a pro, but Andrew was only getting started.
He licked around Ford’s head, sucking hard, but not taking Ford in too deep just yet. His right hand kept a constant motion around Ford’s balls and base, squeezing gently, rolling the tender skin in his palm, as he licked Ford’s head once, twice, but felt the heat quickly leaving his mouth.
He took another drink.
This time he sucked one of Isaac’s balls into his mouth and had to be careful not to release it with a telling pop. Then he did the same with the other.
Ford merely slowed his speech so he could take a longer breath between sentences, no otherwise telling signs to give himself away. He was ready for Andrew now and whatever he might do. Or so he thought.
Andrew took another drink, sucked a finger into his mouth, and held it there for a count of twenty. Then he slid it beneath Ford’s balls and teased gently at his mostly impossible to reach entrance, but oh, he knew a graze would be more than enough.
Ford had the thermos in hand, Andrew could just barely see above him, occasionally stealing sips of his own, but his left hand settled under the table on his thigh and tightened into a fist—opening, curling his fingers in a flourish of motion, then tightening again.
Ford could have conducted an orchestra with how his hands spoke for him, repeating those same motions again and again to keep focused while he continued explaining his plans for Larson.
Andrew took another drink, only a few long draws left, and waited for the next time Ford fanned out his fingers.
The moment it happened, he grasped the hand and sucked Ford’s pointer finger into his mouth, coiling his tongue around it.
He sucked it in deep, letting saliva build and coat it until some of the moisture dribbled from the corners of his lips.
Still, Ford’s voice remained steady, no more slip ups, even as he tried in vain to pull his hand from Andrew’s grasp, and his breathing distinctly picked up pace.
“We can go over everything again in finer detail after you’ve looked through the itemized invoice,” Ford said, clearly trying to wrap this up quickly.
A murmur of agreements flitted around the table. A few questions arose that Ford tried to answer succinctly. He’d dismiss the meeting soon; Andrew could sense it.
He released Ford’s hand and took one last long drink of cocoa, gripped Ford’s thighs, and in one deft swoop, deep throated him with his nose pressed to the coiled hair beneath Ford’s bellybutton, face trapped between his gorgeous thighs.
Finally, another gasp. Another cough to hide it.
Andrew sucked harder.
“There’s only one other thing,” Ford rushed on, “not in the current breakdown. Bluetooth trackers for your more sensitive equipment.”
Andrew froze. How dare he—
“It’s a rather ingenious idea my contemporary came up with, Andrew Wen, and I think you should contract that portion of the upgrade through him.”
What?
Stunned, Andrew pulled off, looking up at Ford’s face, completely serious and impassive.
“Your competitor?” Larson questioned. “We rejected his proposal for yours.”
“I realize that, but in this case, I think our combined efforts would benefit you. We each have our strengths, and as you may have read in the paper recently, we’ve been collaborating for Avalon. I think a joint contract is your best bet.”
None of Ford’s associates raised any protest, but Andrew had to imagine they were all as stunned as he was.
“We’ll have to think about it,” Larson said. “You’ll get us a new proposal with that included and Wen’s pricing?”
“By the end of the day.”
The chairs all scraped the floor being pushed back. There was a flurry of movement, Larson coming over to shake Ford’s hand, as he remained in his chair, and then her people left with Luke leading them out, Andrew guessed, since only Riley and Kathleen’s voices spoke up.
“I thought the trackers were bogus,” Kathleen said.
“Or is fucking the enemy messing with your head,” Riley challenged.
“The trackers aren’t bogus. They just didn’t work for Avalon. For Larson, they’ll be fine. And who I fuck isn’t your concern or going to affect my judgment in business matters. This is the right call.”
“Whatever, boss,” Riley said. “I still think you’re soft on Wen.”
Hard, more like, throbbing, since he was close but hadn’t yet finished.
Andrew heard someone exit the room, but Ford didn’t move.
Kathleen was still there.
“Yes?” Ford asked.
“Just a thought,” she said, her voice coming from near the door. “If I were to peek under this table right now, how scarred for life would I be?”
Shit.
“Less if you gave me time to tuck myself away.”
“Ew!” she groaned between disgust and laughter.
“Really? I knew that sore back excuse was a lie, and I thought I saw you squirming. Well then, Andrew, since I know that’s you under there, one piece of advice?
If this was nothing more than screwing around, there’s no way Arty would have let you get away with what you just pulled during a meeting.
So, don’t you hurt him,” she said, suddenly serious.
“It’d be very bad for your health. Bye now! ”
He heard the door click as she left. Only then did Ford push back his chair to let him out.
Andrew crawled free, Santa mug in hand, wondering if Ford was upset that he’d gone through with that, or maybe upset that Kathleen had found them.
But he’d still gone out on a limb for Andrew, when Andrew had been acting like a shit trying to make him react.
And Kathleen thought this was more than sex too.
After setting the mug on the table, Andrew dropped to his knees in front of Ford, latched back onto his dick with fervor, and sucked him to full hardness again in seconds.
Ford gasped, hand reaching to tangle in Andrew’s hair, pleading without having to hold back that he not stop, not for a second, not until he—
—came, thigh muscles clenching, fingers tugging tighter in Andrew’s hair, hard enough that he nearly moaned around Ford’s cock as he continued to suck him dry, until he was sure Ford was done. He slid off slowly, still licking at Ford’s dick and enjoying the sweet aftertaste of cocoa on his tongue.
“That wasn’t the only reason I suggested your trackers to Larson,” Ford huffed.
“I know.”
“Know how else you can make this up to me?”
“Thought I just did.” Andrew licked his lips.
Ford leapt from his chair, hefting Andrew onto the table in one smooth, powerful motion, and pushed him back until Andrew toppled over, nearly sending both the mug and thermos to the floor.
Ford unbuttoned Andrew’s jeans, tore at his zipper, and tugged them half down his ass before grunting, “I’m going to warm you up like you warmed me, and then I want you to fuck me right here on this table and put me in my place. ”