Jason’s hand paused, and his face fell. “Damn, I was hoping it would be sooner.”
Blake chuckled and gently grasped Jason’s wrist. “I’m sure the money will hold you until I get back.” He guided Jason’s hand to his cock, gasping when Jason’s warm fingers made contact. “And I doubt you’ll have trouble finding anyone to pay you between now and then.”
“No, but . . .” Jason hesitated. He glanced down as he wrapped his fingers around Blake’s cock. Then he met Blake’s eyes again. “I’ve been enjoying this, I have to admit.”
“Me too.” Blake tipped Jason’s chin up and kissed him. “I should give you my card before I go. I can—” their lips brushed once more, screwing up his concentration for a few seconds “—I can get you in touch with people. About . . . about investments.”
“Good idea.” Jason shifted, and pushed Blake onto his back. As he climbed on top, he said, “You’re not too tired for another go-round, are you?”
“Do I look like I am?”
“Not at all.”
Blake grinned, running his hands up and down Jason’s gorgeous torso. “How much will this cost me?”
Jason’s lips quirked, and then he took Blake’s hands and pinned them to the pillow. He leaned down and kissed him. “We’ll call it a free one for the road.” Another kiss, lighter this time. “Or give me that card, and we’ll call it even.”
“Deal.” Blake wrapped his arms around Jason, and the conversation was over.
Blake had thought for a long time that Jared and Tristan would be a hard act to follow, and he’d been right. What he hadn’t anticipated was someone coming along who could hold a candle—more like a blowtorch—to what those two had done to him. He’d been back in Jersey for a week and a half, and he still caught himself spacing out and daydreaming about Jason. His personal assistant Deanna had caught him doing it a few times too, but she just laughed, rolled her eyes, and gave him whatever itinerary or message she’d come to give him.
It was almost four in the afternoon on Friday when she caught him again. He hadn’t even seen or heard her come into his office, and she was standing right in front of his desk.
“Jet lag?” she asked with a playful twinkle in her eyes.
“Something like that.” Blake rubbed a hand over his face. Had he forgotten to shave this morning? Again? “Sorry. What were you saying?”
She smiled, seeming equal parts amused and sympathetic as she handed him a couple of printouts. “Your itinerary for the week after next. When you have time, could you read it over and make sure it’s all correct?”
He glanced at it, and his heart skipped when his gaze landed on the words London Heathrow Airport.
Oh yes. I need to get back to London. Soon.
“Blake?”
He shook himself, hoping to God he’d only been staring at that damned page for a couple of seconds. “Hmm?”
She laughed. “That last trip really put you through the wringer, didn’t it?”
“Oh yeah. It was, uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “Must be getting too old for this.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Do you want me to reschedule the next trip? You could—”
“No, no. Definitely not. I’ll make sure to sleep on the plane, and I’ll be fine.”
She eyed him skeptically, but then shrugged. “Okay.”
Deanna left him to his work and daydreams. He scanned the itinerary again, but he wasn’t checking for problems. He wanted the travel dates.
Then he opened up his email to send them to Jason. The two of them had been messaging constantly ever since he’d returned from London. Oh who was he kidding? They’d started emailing while Blake was sitting in the terminal at Heathrow, waiting to get on his plane.
He opened a new message to send the information to Jason, but then noticed a new email had come in from Jason.
His heart skipped as it always did when Jason wrote him. The guy was discreet even though Blake had the company’s IT guys by the balls, but the flirtation was undeniable. This message, though, was unusually brief.
Can you meet me on Skype tonight?
He didn’t hesitate: Yes. What for? And hit Send.
The response only took a few seconds. You’ll see. My username is Goldenboy_Jason. I’ll be online at 2000 your time.
Nice piece of branding there.
Thnx. Now get back to work. :-)
That was probably just as well. He finished typing up the London dates and added, “Flat rate for those days?” to his email, then sent it.