Chapter One #2
Like I said, he isn’t too hairy, and I saw how red his chest was underneath the fur.
His muscles were huge, and with the added pump, he looked massive.
The mischievous glint was gone from his hazel eyes, and so was the excitement.
In their place was the white-hot determination of up, down, up, down, breathe—over and over.
I caught him going on his tippy toes as he struggled with a rep and saw his shorts ride up his legs.
Damn, even his tight office pants didn’t show off how meaty his thighs were.
When he finally racked the bar—red, wet chest heaving as he gulped air—his legs sat still, and his manhood formed an impossible-to-ignore mound in his shorts. My cheeks heated as I looked away.
It wasn’t the first time I noticed his bulge.
There was a specific pair of jeans he liked to wear that held his package just so.
I didn’t think he realized how on display he was, or maybe he did and liked it.
Either way, I might have noticed it before, but not like that—not like some silent monument to his maleness.
He stripped his shirt off again on our jog downtown, tucking it into his shorts like a flag football player. He might’ve been a thick dude, but it was hard to tell watching him in motion.
It was challenging keeping up with his “light jog, just to keep the heart rate up.” I couldn’t help but notice how his ass bunched with his steps, how his pecs bounced, or how determined he looked to get to our destination.
I tried to avoid looking at him but couldn’t.
Thankfully, I stopped myself from wondering things I didn’t want to about my boss.
A few places were open when we got to the small commercial district, but nothing interesting. I would’ve stopped and bought coffee, but Alec was still shirtless, and we were drenched in sweat. Besides, I didn’t think he was the kind of guy to pay for coffee when it was free in our room.
We took turns taking showers back at the hotel, and I again couldn’t help but notice him. He kept his shorts on until he closed the bathroom door, but when he walked out in just a towel, my eyes dilated.
And here’s the thing: he noticed me, too.
Again, not in a creepy way, and maybe it was in my head, but the way he dragged his eyes up and down my body was more than just an assessment.
I peeled off my shirt off but didn’t have the good grace to leave my shorts on.
His eyes might’ve widened before he looked away.
Alec was dressed in his typical business casual attire when I was done. Once I was too, I fetched my laptop and plopped onto my bed. It was well past the start of the workday, and I could feel my inbox growing.
“What are you doing?” Alec asked.
“Working. I don’t want to come back to thousands of messages.”
“I meant, why are you on your bed?”
“You’re the Senior Field Sales Representative here. I figured you’d want the desk, but I’ll gladly take it.”
“No, numb nuts. We’re not gonna get any work done here. Let’s go to the café downstairs.”
“Yeah?”
He smiled. “Yeah. I’ll buy you a coffee on the corporate card. And a pastry if you’re good.” His smile turned to a smirk. “You busted ass this morning. Gave one hundred percent effort. You deserve it.”
I smirked, too. “The coffee in the room is shit, isn’t it?” I said, looking at the free, full pot on the counter.
“Worse than shit. Dog shit. From a dog who ate baby shit,” he said, making us both laugh.
Alec didn’t just get us a coffee and a pastry, but breakfast sandwiches and juice on the side too. We sat in the little café, tapping away at our computers, taking calls, and cracking jokes, just like in the office.
Somewhere around mid-morning, Alec got a phone call, but I couldn’t make out the whispered conversation.
He hung up and grabbed the bridge of his nose.
I watched him grimace, let out a long sigh, and rub the back of his neck.
When he looked at me, his eyes were just short of bloodshot.
He cracked a tired smile and said, “Sorry. Home shit,” with a weak chuckle.
Observing that moment and hearing the creaky rumble of his deep voice, I could no longer stop myself from wondering—was Alec hot?
I wasn’t in the practice of finding random men attractive, but it happened. And when it did, I dealt with it like any guy would—beat off thinking about them a few times and let the fantasy die without ever uttering a word of it to anyone.
Until that moment, the only guys that caught my eye were the skinny feminine types. Social media calls them twinks. Or femboys. The kind of guys that pull off a little makeup, look fabulous in a thong, and have a penchant for calling the men they slept with daddy.
Alec was not that in any way. If anything, I could see people calling him daddy.
Or sir. He had the gravitas for it. And that understated masculinity that screamed he was always in control.
Even when he was barking out orders, flustered, or laughing like a hyena at his own grade school jokes, Alec was always a step ahead.
Always the guy with the answer. While those were the traits of a man I respected and looked up to, they weren’t the traits of a guy I wanted to put my dick in.
Not that I’ve put my dick in many guys. Only that one time in college, which involved a woman, and I never put it in him.
But I’ve thought about it. If I fantasize about a guy, I want him to look at me the way I was looking at Alec at that moment.
That’s what got me off—if and when I’m thinking about people with dicks while playing with my own. Which, honestly, was crazy rare.
Maybe it was the crack in his fortitude that got to me?
He wasn’t joking, being an ass, or in command.
I got a peek at a more vulnerable Alec. Maybe I needed to see a more subtle side of his humanity to find him attractive?
That, and seeing more of his body than I’d ever had before. Which, damn, he really was built.
That whole morning, I’d look over and see him shirtless, or pant-less, in my mind’s eye.
Not some cut from marble Adonis, like a fitness model.
No, he was thick. A thin layer of life and adulthood covered his prodigious muscles.
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but seeing him all sweaty and hairy, oozing testosterone like a fucking fountain, made me…
Either way, once I asked myself if Alec was hot, I had to admit he was, and then come to terms with my boss being a grade-A piece of man beef. Which was so out of character for me, my head spun.
As much as I wanted to ask him if everything was okay with this “home shit,” I was his new subordinate, and that would feel like prying. Besides, the only thing that could’ve come out of my mouth was a breathy “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t wait for a response and asked me to send him an updated list of features I had worked on.
I said, “Yes, sir,” pulling it off as a joke.