Jeremiah
I skim through my speech again, eyes scanning the lines for anything that might sound off. The Gala’s coming up fast and I need it to be perfect.
Heather and I are both supposed to talk about WingMate's mission, but after hearing David run his mouth this morning, I need to drive home what this company actually stands for. No sugarcoating it.
I shake my head and scratch out another sentence. None of it feels strong enough. None of it says what I actually mean.
In two days, the whole office will hear it. And in two days, I’ll have to blindside everyone at WingMate…Heather…
…and Chase.
My chest tightens.
Will he understand why I had to keep it from him?
A knock against the glass door pulls me from my thoughts.
“You look like you could use a break.” Chase’s smooth voice floats into my office.
He's leaning against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching me. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly when our eyes meet. That tightening in my chest immediately loosens.
“Ah, yeah. That would be nice,” I say, dropping my pen on my desk and following him out of the room.
Mia walks up to us, a purse slung over her shoulder.
“Ouu, look at us, Chay. We’re lunching out with the Boss Man. I feel like I’m hanging with VIPs now,” Mia says with a wink.
Chase throws his arm over her shoulder. “Uh, you are rolling with the VIPs. Don’t get it twisted.” He teases, making her laugh.
We end up grabbing lunch at a small sandwich shop with Mia, Todd, and Bailey. Rachel joins us halfway through.
It’s honestly… a lot of fun being part of the group.
It feels like everyone has their own way of speaking to each other.
It’s especially funny watching Mia and Chase converse.
When I first started, I thought there might be something between them, but after spending more time with them, they couldn’t act more like brother and sister.
“Listen to what I’m telling you because I’m never wrong. If I ever see you wearing those crocs out again, we’re fighting.” Mia jokingly threatens Chase.
I almost spit up while I sip on my water bottle.
“You’ll have to pry my yellow Crocs from my cold, dead feet. They’re comfy as shit!” Chase barks back.
Judging by Mia's incredible wardrobe, I decide quickly who should be taking style advice from who.
“Sorry, Chase. I’m going to have to side with Mia on this one,” I add, making the group go wild.
Chase’s jaw drops as he looks me up and down. “The betrayal…” he gasps. Leaning in, he adds quietly just for my ears, “I may have to take you down for that.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I counter, making his brow raise.
As we head back into the office, something feels lighter in my chest. The feeling is intense enough to make me want to do something about it—as soon as humanly possible.
Before Chase heads to his desk, I catch his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
“Yes, boss?” Chase slyly asks, unable to hide his cheeky grin.
Once the others disappear around the corner, I slide my hand from his wrist to the small of his back.
I glance around, making sure no one is watching as I lean in close. “Room 2A. Now.”
Without waiting for a reply, I turn and head toward the stairwell, stuffing my hands in my pockets to keep them from reaching for him again.
***
I tend to take control of any situation I find myself in.
Chase has a way of dismantling that control in under five seconds.
One knock at the door, and whatever restraint I was pretending to have today is already gone.
“You took too long,” I groan, pulling him inside by his tie.
“You walk—fast—” he mutters between kisses as I pin him against the door.
“Well, keep up.” I fist his shirt, holding him close.
“Mmm, someone’s needy,” Chase mumbles against my lips. “Was it the yellow crocs? You pictured me in them, and it turned you on, didn’t it?” He teases, curling his fingers in the hair at the back of my neck.
When I don’t answer, a low, teasing laugh vibrates against my lips as I kiss down the column of his throat. “Oh? Nothing but the crocs? You dirty, dirty boy—”
I grab his wrist and guide him to the office set up across the room. There’s nothing in here but an empty desk and an office chair, but it’s enough.
“Enough talking. I need to touch you,” I say, the honesty in my own voice catching me off guard. I set him on the edge of the desk.
“Well, don't let me stop you,” he says lightly, settling back like he belongs there.
I step between his legs, never breaking eye contact.
“I won't.”
I gather his tie into a neat bundle before tucking it between his lips.
His throat bobs as he swallows around the fabric.
He’s right. I am needy. Borderline obsessed. A realization I’m only now starting to come to terms with. It’s shocking and confusing, and I can’t seem to stop it now that it’s started.
Releasing him, I take a moment to sit in the chair.
“Do you remember what I asked you to practice for me?”
He nods slowly, fingers twitching on the wooden desk.
“Good.” I lick my lips, clasping the arms of the chair for a place to settle myself. “I want you to show me what you’ve been working on.”
He straightens, a pink blush climbing his throat as his eyes glance over to the door.
“No one knows we’re here and I locked the door,” I reassure him.
Thoughts of our co-workers on the other side of the door flicker through my mind.
He takes a steadying breath, his hands trembling slightly as he fumbles with his belt.
The hesitation only makes the anticipation harder to ignore.
Slipping his pants down to the ground, he kicks off his shoes.
My mouth is already salivating.
“Wait.” I rise to my feet, crowding into his space as he leans back against the desk. “This should help,” I whisper, sliding his shirt higher. His dick is stiff as a board as it lies on his abs. The strong vein runs perfectly up the underside of his cock, making my fists tighten.
Eyes fixated on mine, he watches as I pour a healthy amount of saliva from my lips, straight down onto his rock hard length.
Soft moans are muffled by the tie stuffed in his mouth, as his dick twitches at the sensation.
I take his hand and guide it where I want it.
“Show me what you do when no one's watching,” I say quietly before settling back into my chair.
A shaky breath escapes him, his brows knitting together as uncertainty and want flicker across his face.
Slowly, he starts stroking himself.
“Fuck. There you go,” I breathe, completely transfixed on the way he moves his hand up and down. I tried to memorize it on our FaceTime call. It was spectacular then, but in person, it’s even better.
“All the way down,” I urge, leaning back, trying to ignore the way my own cock is bursting at the seams in my pants.
Chase smirks sinfully, making me want to climb over top of him and take what’s mine.
“You have no idea how sexy you are.” My breath trembles. “Twist your wrist at the top.”
His eyes flicker shut as he does what I say, running his palm over his tip and bringing it back down to his base. It’s painfully arousing.
His breath stutters as he squeezes himself gently.
“Just like that.” I brush my finger over my lower lip, back and forth. “You look so fucking beautiful,” I breath, my words ragged. “Fucking your fist so well.”
He groans louder this time, his breath coming fast as his hips begin moving of their own accord, chasing his own pleasure.
My control snaps. Sliding the chair closer, I move between his spread legs, reaching up to pull the tie free. It’s soaked and ruined, and oh, so fucking perfect.
“I’m doing a good job?” His brows pinch.
“Such a good job. I’m so fucking proud of you.” I squeeze his groin with my hands, inciting a low pleasured moan from him that only spurs me on even more.
Pooling some more saliva in my mouth, I spread his cheeks and waste no time spitting it directly on his tight, pink hole.
He gasps, his hips rising. “Jesusfuckingchrist—”
“Shhhh,” I warn him, with a smile on my lips as I stare up at him. “You have to stay quiet for me.”
He mewls, answering me in a breathless whimper.
“Fffuck—” A husky sound escapes me at the sight. I use my thumb to rub in the moisture, lightly circling his rim.
Chase throws his head back, hanging onto the desk for dear life.
“Did you practice what I told you today in the shower?” I ask, watching him squirm.
He nods hurriedly. “Yes.”
I bite my lip because, damn. Thinking about him with his fingers in his ass sets my whole body on fire.
“Did you come?”
He shakes his head. “Not enough time.”
“You think of me when you touch yourself?” I ask, breathlessly.
“Always have,” he answers simply.
Always have?
Since when—
Just as I’m about to question it, my phone vibrates. I growl, taking my phone out of my back pocket and bring it to my ear.
Chase’s brows rise so high as he watches me answer, but I press gently on his asshole, breaching my thumb’s tip through his hole, making his head throw back.
“Hi, Jeremiah!” Bailey’s chipper voice comes through.
I put the phone on speaker, throwing it onto the desk.
“Hey, Bailey,” I reply, keeping my voice steady as Chase picks up his head, looking absolutely wrecked.
“Mr. Hart is here looking for you. Where should I tell him to find you?”
Chase grips my forearm, pulling my thumb deeper inside of him.
“Tell him to meet me on the accounting floor. Room 2A,” I say, wetting my thumb on my tongue before positioning it back at his hole.
Chase watches me, mesmerized as I press it in ever so gently.
“Okay! I’ll let him know.” Bailey’s voice is cheerful as the call disconnects.
“That was so hard,” Chase shivers, fucking himself with my thumb while he strokes himself to no end. “I was about to come.”
I squeeze my aching cock in my pants with my free hand, the pressure getting hard to ignore.
“Good. You better make it quick, or Theo’s getting a show,” I pant, voice rough with need.
“But, I’ll make a mess.” His legs tense as his hips rock forcefully.
“I’m counting on it,” I tease. His hips jerk in my fist as I take over, plunging my thumb into him.
“Holy shit,” he shudders, legs shaking.
“There you go, baby,” I murmur. “Don't fight it. Come for me.”