Back in the NSFW Zone, I’d barely started—this would be another day of ill-fitting windows that didn’t want to cooperate, apparently—when the music suddenly shifted from a hip-hop mess to The Imperial Death March. Clearing throats, creaking chairs and clicking mice added an out-of-step percussion line to the ominous music, and a second later, the door opened.
Marie walked in, resting one hand on the doorknob. She cocked her head, listening to the music, then eyed Scott, who quickly switched it off.
“I see everyone’s hard at work,” she said flatly.
“As always,” Teagan said with the most artificial cheerfulness she could muster. I didn’t have to look up to know when the two of them made eye contact. The tension in the room raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
Eventually, someone looked away, and Marie went on with why she was here. As she interrogated everyone in turn about their current statuses and ETAs, I focused my attention on slicing off a sliver of plastic from the edge of an uncooperative miniature windowpane. I wasn’t sure an X-ACTO knife was the best thing to be using when my hands shook like this, but I needed to focus on something, and come hell or high water, I needed to get this window in.
Come on, McNeill.
I gritted my teeth and willed my hands to behave. They weren’t as compliant as they usually were, though. Not as compliant as Rick’s would have—
I shook myself. This was getting ridiculous. Granted, it was only my first day back at work after That Weekend, but my boss didn’t need to know. As long as I kept up on my work, which meant not thinking about how sexy he looked on his knees with my hand in his hair and my cock in his mouth. No thinking about coming inside him.
The X-ACTO knife slipped, narrowly missing the side of my thumb.
Get it together, idiot.
Finally, the window looked like it was going to fit. I carefully nudged it into place with my finger and a pair of tweezers. Just needed to line it up and—
The door opened again, letting in the sounds of footsteps and Mitchell in mid-conversation: “…done by the end of the week, but have a look at the in-progress structures.”
I could feel Teagan’s hackles going up—we both hated when clients came in to see unfinished models, since they usually didn’t look great at this stage. My hair stood on end again, but not for the reason it usually did when someone brought a client in here. I knew who was coming in even before I raised my head.
And when I did raise my head, our eyes locked from across the room, and for two full seconds, the world was silent. People were still talking, clicking, moving, but for that fleeting moment, I couldn’t hear them. We were too early into this to have any of that telepathy that long-term lovers developed, but his eyes and the hitch in his breath were clear enough—he heard me and I heard him.
I am going to do so many things to you tonight.
I know. I can’t wait.
Clearing our throats, we both jerked out gazes away, and the world around us resumed its noisy activity.
“Jon.”
I jumped. The window clattered onto the terrace. Clearing my throat, I looked up, eyebrows raised in a silent yes?
Marie nodded toward the model in front of me. “I assume that will be finished on time?”
Assuming he doesn’t distract me to the point I accidentally cut off a finger.
“Yes, I just have to finish a few things.”
“Good.”
The silence lingered. Rick and Mitchell joined her, and they watched me. No, no, they were just looking at the model, Marie and Mitchell inspecting it for any flaw that needed to be remedied before Rick noticed it. And Rick was most definitely not looking at me. I chewed the inside of my cheek and focused as hard as I could on the fucking window that wouldn’t slide into place. Not an easy task when their eyes were, I was sure of it, locked on me.
“It’s excellent so far,” Rick said. “I’m looking forward to the finished project.”
“Only the best for Horizon Developing.” Mitchell smiled like a used-car salesman, and I managed to lower my head before I rolled my eyes.
Ass-kissing doesn’t work, boss man. You want to know the way to Rick Pierce’s heart? I could probably give you a few pointers…
“Well.” Rick cleared his throat. “We should get out of their way so they can get back to work. You said the contract for the new art museum is ready, correct?”
“Yes, yes. Let me take you upstairs.”
Mitchell started to herd Rick out of the room, and I lifted my head.
We met eyes again. Rick grinned. I returned it.
And then he followed Mitchell and Marie out.
The door closed behind them. Scott switched the music back to whatever shitty rap album they’d had on earlier, and we all went back to business as usual. I tried to, anyway.