Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
GLENN
The mood is off when I step inside the trailer after work. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s humid as fuck outside, the cool breeze this morning being swept away by a looming storm.
The sky is dark gray, and I can smell rain on the horizon.
And I can smell Arbor, agitated, annoyed. He’s been in a mood since the mishap with pressure points.
Maybe he never got himself off. Maybe he’s been sitting in his slick all day, the windows open, the humidity fraying his last nerve.
As soon as the door closes behind me, I can see this is the case.
“I’m writing you up,” he snaps.
I freeze and stare at him.
“What the fuck? What did I do?”
“What didn’t you do?” He pulls out a sheet of paper and scribbles on it. “You were working without proper PPE.”
“What the fuck?” I ask, my brows meeting.
“No shirt. I saw it.”
“I was always wearing my shirt, except at lunch.”
“Exactly. Who knows what could happen at lunch? A stray nail, a rogue saw. You could lose an arm.”
I stare at him, perplexed. He’s making my head spin, and my cock hard.
“And don’t even get me started on your unprofessional behavior with your men. I heard you flirting.”
“Arbor—”
“It’s Mr. Wren.”
His pen flicks across the paper, and then he holds it out to me. I can see the tremble in his hand as I near. His scent rolls across me, and I clench my teeth.
My fingers latch on to what he’s handing me, and without a word, I crumple it in my palms.
“You’re not writing me up.”
He stares at the paper in my hand and gasps when I chuck it in the garbage.
“You can’t do that. You can’t!”
He starts to write out another, but before he can, I’m wrenching the pen from his hand and snapping it in half. Ink flies everywhere—on my shirt, his pants. It’s a fucking mess.
He shoves me, but I don’t budge. I just reach down and pick him up, setting him on the desk and spreading his legs.
“You’re just mad because you’re hot with slick, and I haven’t come in and offered to suck your cock.”
“Sexual harassment. I’m adding that,” he breathes, his nostrils flaring, his cheeks pink.
“I’ll prove it to you.”
“You’ll prove nothing.”
I rip his belt from his slacks and toss it aside. It clatters next to the coffee machine as I work on ripping his pants open.
“Anyone could come in.”
“No one’s here.”
“They could come back,” he argues.
“Fuck them. And fuck you.”
“I’m writing you up for insubordination,” he says as he arches into my touch.
“You can try to write me up all you want, Mr. Wren. I’ll destroy them every time.”
He groans as I rip his pants down his legs. When they get stuck near his shoes, I discard those as well, leaving him in only his socks and bare from the waist down.
He’s still wearing his ironed button-up shirt and tie.
He looks fucking ridiculous.
Ridiculously perfect.
“Littering too,” he rasps as I fall to my knees and place his thighs on my shoulders. “You’re bad for the environment.”
My hands go to his waist, and I drag him to the edge of the desk, pulling his balls up and exposing him to me.
I see his pink, tight hole, dripping wet, smelling like the best-kept secret.
“Oh, you fucking tease,” I grunt as I lean forward and inhale. My tongue leaves my mouth and laps at that wet rim until I drag it up his crack, his balls, and up the underside of his dick.
My throat rumbles at the taste, and he swears.
“Indecency too,” he moans as his hands find my hair, dragging me further onto his dick.
I pull him down my throat, holding him there before sliding off and doing it all over again.
As my head bobs, I push two fingers inside of him, feeling how wet he is. It’s thick and dripping, and I want to bend down and consume it, but not yet. Not until he comes first.
Then I can feast.
My fingers work in tandem with my mouth, making him writhe on his desk, pens and pencils spilling onto the ground, papers fluttering this way and that. But I don’t stop. I just bring him to the edge until he tumbles over it, his cum splashing against my tongue as he twitches and jerks.
His fingers loosen in my hair, and I let his dick fall from my mouth.
Our eyes meet, and he moans again.
“I’m not done with you.”
“You’re terrible. The worst employee.”
I say nothing as I stand up and flip him over, his face on the tabletop, his ass right in front of my face.
I kneel again and spread him open. His hole spasms under my gaze.
“What are you gonna do to me?”
I reach between his legs and pull his cock free of the desk, right where I can see it. It’s still half hard, his need something palpable. Something I can feel.
“You’re going to come again, Mr. Wren. And then you’re going to apologize for trying to write me up.”
With that, I slide my tongue into him, licking him slowly and methodically until he grows frantic.
“Oh my fuck. Oh my gods!” He’s fucking back against my face as I eat his ass. He tastes fucking wonderful, and his whines of pleasure are even better. I can’t believe he doesn’t have people lined up around the block to eat him out.
Fuck, I’d be first in line.
“Public indecency,” he manages to say between moans, and I huff a laugh as I tug on his aching cock.
He’s rocking back and forth, the whole desk moving as I continue to feast.
And when his cock jerks in my hand, his cum landing on the floor between my legs, I stuff my tongue into him once more. I groan into his ass as I pull my cock out and stroke it hard and fast until my release joins his.
“That—” his throat clicks, “—never again.”
“Tomorrow then,” I say. I drag a finger up his crack as I push myself up to my feet and stare down at his bent form, his ass red from my fingers digging into him, his shirt rumpled and half up his back.
He looks perfectly destroyed.
“You owe me an apology,” I say, my hands reaching down to help him stand. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I know the storm is upon us. “For falsification of records.”
He does so on wobbly legs, his entire body shaking from the intensity of it all.
“Never,” he breathes, and I stare down at those sassy lips.
“I’ll just have to take you to court then.”
His fingers move up to my shirt, and his trembling hands hold on to me.
“I’ll win.”
My lips brush against his, just a whisper of a promise.
“We’ll see.”
His demeanor is cold the next day, his body stiff and aloof. He looks more put-together than he did when he first set foot on this project.
Not a hair is out of place.
I ignore it, pretending nothing happened, like I didn’t get on my knees the night before and lick his slick like a starving man.
The only good thing is my brain seems to be back on track, and I’m not seeing people lurking in the shadows. A fabulous start to a workday.
“Morning,” I say, walking to the coffee machine and making myself a flat white. Never had one of these before, and as I sip at it, I realize I’ve been missing out.
Arbor is silent, not uttering a word.
I shrug it off, taking a seat across from him and watching him intently. His cheeks slowly turn pink, his fingers slipping on the keyboard.
“Stop staring at me,” he murmurs. “I mean it.”
I sip at my coffee once more.
“I’m just waiting for my instructions.”
He peers up at me and then back at the computer screen.
“We have the municipal building inspector coming by today.”
“Ah, yeah, Leona.”
He glances at me once more. “You know her?”
“Yeah, worked with her a few times. She’s good at what she does.”
“Of course she is.”
I wet my lips, and his eyes track the movement, his cheeks turning a darker shade of red.
“I’ll take care of it,” I add, and he nods. “Anything else?”
He slides a piece of paper across the table, and I stare at it. Another write-up.
My lips twitch, and I pick it up, my eyes taking in what’s scribbled there.
“Indecency.”
“Yes,” he breathes. “Do not throw it away.”
I nod, standing up while finishing my coffee, and crumpling the paper in my palms.
“See you after work, Boss.”
I toss it in the trash, turn around, and walk out, feeling his eyes on my ass as I go.
Leona is fucking hilarious—her dry sense of humor, the way she teases the men who hassle her.
She just has a way about her. She has her hard hat on, her blonde hair in a low ponytail.
She’s wearing the typical attire I usually see her in: jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and work boots.
Nothing inappropriate at all, but somehow she always catches everyone’s eye.
It’s just her personality, I think. It’s fun, charming.
“Hey, boys, these joist hangers need the proper nails, not screws,” she says and then waggles her eyebrows at me. “Few men know this.”
I let out a laugh, and she grins at me.
“All right, let me see…” She takes her clipboard out. “Everything looks good. You can close those walls up now, and I’ll sign those permits. Get electrical in here. You know those assholes move slow.”
“Yeah, I know.” I lift the bottom of my shirt and wipe my face, the humidity killing me today. The thunderstorm last night was brief, but it left lingering water in the air so thick I’m having trouble drawing a full breath.
Leona is scribbling something on a piece of paper as Arbor approaches, his stride clipped and purposeful.
“Everything going okay?” he asks, his eyes flicking from Leona to me.
“Yep,” I say, and Leona winks at me.
“This big lug always knows what he’s doing. Never lets the boys slack off.”
She rips a piece of paper off and hands it to Arbor.
“Well done. Now I have to run to another job after this, but you want to grab a drink sometime?” She directs her question to me, one she’s asked me several times before. I know it’s nothing more than friendly, but Arbor stiffens.
“Yeah, that would be nice. Text me.”
She throws a fake punch to my chest and then waves, “All right. See ya!”
As she walks off, I watch her go, trying like hell not to meet Arbor’s assessing eyes.
“Fraternizing with the city workers,” he murmurs, and I roll my lips between my teeth before turning to face him.
“She’s fun.”