A flash of annoyance flickered through Ferrara’s face at the anglicized nickname, but he didn’t stop the woman from kissing and groping him, even though his eyes remained on Nate.
“Come here,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Nate approached the desk, a knot of discomfort forming in his stomach. His instincts were screaming that Ferrara was up to something, that he wasn’t going to like what his boss would request.
“Undress.”
He froze, his eyes going wide. But then he exhaled, realizing that Ferrara was addressing the blonde. Not that it was much of a relief.
He watched numbly as Ferrara lifted Helen and put her on his desk. The woman giggled and started undressing. Just like that. As if Nate weren’t even there.
“Eh,” Nate said. “I’ll go—I’m going home—”
“You aren’t going anywhere yet,” Ferrara said, looking at him with those black, creepy eyes.
What?
Nate watched, frozen, as Ferrara started unbuckling his belt before unzipping his suit pants. Oh, fuck. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be fucking happening.
It was happening. Ferrara was pulling his cock out. His half-hard cock.
Staring at it, Nate had a sudden, hysterical thought that the asshole wasn’t lying about the condom size.
“Get me a condom,” Ferrara said in a low voice.
Right. A condom. Of course that was why Ferrara wanted him to stay. To get him a condom.
His relief nearly making him dizzy, Nate reached into the desk drawer he’d put the condoms in and retrieved one, hating himself a little for how well Ferrara had him trained by now. “Here,” he said, handing it to his boss.
Ferrara didn’t take it.
“Put it on,” he said.
Nate stared.
He opened his mouth and then closed it.
“What?” he said faintly.
That cruel, amused gleam appeared in Ferrara’s eyes again. “You heard me. You’re my assistant. Or are you saying you can’t assist me?”
And Nate finally got what this was about. If I really put my mind to it, I wouldn’t even need to fire you. You’d quit yourself.
Rage clogged his throat. Nate could only stare at that dickhead in helpless anger.
A small, infuriatingly arrogant smirk touched Ferrara’s lips. “It’s all right if you can’t do it,” he said in a soft voice.
Nate glared at him.
Screw him. He was going to fucking wipe that smirk off that face.
Nate tore the wrapper with shaking hands and then looked down from Ferrara’s hard eyes to his hard cock.
Jesus.
That thing was… it was big and thick, the cockhead very red and fat, with a drop of pre-come glistening at the tip. It was the most obscene thing he’d ever seen, especially considering the fact that Ferrara was immaculately dressed otherwise.
Swallowing, Nate reached down with trembling hands and rolled the condom on.
Or tried to.
His fingers were too clumsy, and it felt like it was his first time trying to put a condom on. To be fair to him, it was the first time he was attempting to put a condom on someone else’s cock. Jesus, the thing pulsed in his hand. It was so very warm.
His face aflame, Nate finally managed to roll the condom on.
“Done,” he said with a relieved smile, lifting his gaze and meeting Ferrara’s eyes. “Anything else, sir?”
A muscle jumped in Ferrara’s cheek as his jaw tightened.
Nate smiled wider.
“You may go,” Satan said tersely, irritation rolling off him in waves.
Nate had never left a room so fast. He had no desire to watch his boss fuck that blonde.
Once outside the room, he breathed out, grinning in triumph. Ha! He’d fucking won.
But his grin faded as something suddenly occurred to him. If there was one thing Nate absolutely knew about his boss, it was that he had the memory of an elephant and an utter inability to admit defeat. He was the definition of a sore loser. Ferrara hated being wrong. Utterly hated it.
Fuck.
Chapter 6
Nate arrived at work the next day with a knot of trepidation in his stomach.
But nothing happened.
Ferrara was his horrible self, but no more than usual. He didn’t act any differently. He certainly didn’t act like he’d basically dared Nate to put a condom on his cock yesterday—and lost the dare.
After waiting for the other shoe to drop all day, Nate finally relaxed by the time he left the office. His sister was actually home too, and they enjoyed a rare evening out.
Next morning, Nate was in a much better mood as he arrived at the office. Clearly Ferrara had let it go. He had nothing to fear.
He should have known better.
After a meeting with the department heads that ended with a senior producer losing his composure and running out of the room in tears, Nate and Satan were the only ones left in the conference room.
Nate eyed his boss warily. “That was horrible, even by your standards.”
Ferrara didn’t even glance at him, his gaze still on the documents in front of him.