Thought the man who had the entire firm except for Percy convinced he wasn’t even a little bit homosexual. Then again, he didn’t imagine ticking the wrong sexual box would hurt Nick’s career like it would his. After al , it had been all over the news just last week: the City still didn’t deal very well with sexual minorities. Hell, it was still very much a white boy’s sandbox as well as a straight one’s. Because if there was one thing that made heterosexual white guys in their fifties clench up, it was people who were different from them.
So. Not out. Knowing this firm and its partners, he doubted that he’d join their ranks if they knew he liked cock.
Especially shoved up his arse.
With a side of pain and some sharply-barked orders, apparently.
Percy could probably get away with getting outed; he had the divorce settlement to prove that he wasn’t actually 57
completely gay. Spencer had nothing. Just a work schedule that made keeping a personal and emotional life too complicated.
There were whole weeks—months—he simply didn’t
remember, like they’d been cut out his life by some satanic pact: money against life-force.
Did Nick feel like that, too? Was the world of prostitution quite as soul-sucking as the field of corporate law?
Damn, he really hoped for some conversation next
time. He couldn’t draw a bead on Nick at al , couldn’t put him in a box, didn’t know anything about him, only that he topped like a demon, and that he was probably a sadist of some description. Nick had clearly enjoyed everything he’d done to Spencer. Seemed to, anyway. That, or he’d given the performance of his life.
Spencer finished his roast beef sandwich and ordered another coffee. Then he figured he’d better return to his reverse merger. He had to earn the money first that would allow him to feel those things again, that abandon and the pleasure edged with pain. A worthwhile reason to head back into the office and chew his way through a cubic metre of files.
The afternoon crawled by. So did Tuesday. Wednesday.
Thursday. It was paperwork, phone calls, meetings, headaches, a liquid lunch or two with Percy, and sheer mental overload.
This merger would be completed soon, he hoped, though he knew damn well “soon” in the corporate world could be at the other end of a geological age. Especially with public markets as volatile as they were. All it took was one of many parties to suddenly get cold feet.
He stayed late every night and came in early every morning, spent so many hours face down in the sea of documentation and reports and bullshit that the only way he 58
could tell a dream from reality was whether Nick was sitting in the chair opposite his desk or not.
In dreams, Nick spurred Spencer on with sharp sighs, leather creaking every time he crossed and recrossed his legs or folded his arms, and, when Spencer really slowed down, black-painted nails drumming emphatically on the wooden armrest. In reality, he was as invisible as the delicious damage he’d done to Spencer’s body, but undeniably there. Goose bumps on the back of Spencer’s neck. A paper sliding off the desk like some little shit had come along and knocked it off.
The carpet under Spencer’s knees when he knelt to pick up a pen that had rolled under his desk.
Nick had never set foot in Spencer’s office, but he haunted it like he’d died here. If Spencer ever spent more than five waking minutes in his house, he’d probably have felt Nick there too. And maybe he did, but he was too tired to care.
Finally, Friday showed up. Though he felt a little guilty about it—okay, really guilty—he cut out early. He needed a few hours between the workplace beating and the recreational one.Around five forty-five, his cell phone chimed to life. At first, he thought it was Nick cal ing to cancel— don’t you dare, fucker, I will pay you double if I have to—but it was Percy’s name on the caller ID.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, you want to meet me at Market Garden tonight?”
Percy’s smirk came through loud and clear. “Sample the rest of the merchandise?”
“Actually, I think I’m just going to stay home tonight.” He glanced at the clock, and begged it to move a little faster. A lot faster. Just be midnight, for fuck’s sake! “It’s been a long week.”
59
“Yeah, exactly,” Percy said. “Good time to go have a few drinks and let some trained hands take care of all the tension, you know? It did you good, Spence. You know it did.”
“It did.” Spencer nodded once for no one’s benefit but his own. “But I just don’t have any energy tonight. Why don’t you tell me on Monday if you find one you think is my type? Then maybe I’ll give him a try next weekend.”
Liar, liar . . .
Percy sighed heavily. “All right. All right. Well, if you reconsider, you know where the place is.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
A quiet chuckle came down the line. “Should I say hello to Nick for you?”
Spencer’s shoulders tensed, but there was no way he’d let Percy know that his question had been much too close for comfort. “Sure. If he’s there, why not.” There wasn’t anything wrong about my voice just now, was there? “Have a great evening. I’m just going to hit the sack.”
Percy thankfully left him alone. Man, when had their relationship started to feel like a pain in the arse, like an intrusion into his personal space?