“Why would I jerk off when I have you?” Ferrara said, continuing to type as if Nate wasn’t licking his hardening cock. His composure was infuriating.
“I’m your assistant, not your cocksucker,” Nate grumbled before taking the cock into his mouth.
Don’t get turned on, he begged his body.
Of course his body didn’t listen. There was just something about the taste of Ferrara’s cock, the scent of it, the way it felt stretching his lips to their limit, moving inside his sensitive mouth, against his tongue… Fuck, it did turn him on. It was like being kissed with a cock. And he couldn’t deny that the rush of power he felt from making Ferrara so hard for him only added to his arousal.
A moan slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.
Ferrara’s thighs tensed under his hands.
Nate blushed. Even though his eyes were closed, he could feel Ferrara’s gaze on him, heavy and evaluating.
“Are you actually enjoying this?” the bastard said, his voice mild and faintly amused. “I thought you were straight.”
Nate opened his eyes and glared up at him. He pulled up with an obscene wet sound and said, “You have no room to talk. I’m not the one forcing my male assistant to suck my cock every day.”
“Forcing?” Ferrara said, tilting his head, his eyes heavy-lidded. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Nate flushed. “You— You Stockholm-Syndrom’ed me into enjoying it!”
“I don’t think it’s a word.”
“I hate you,” Nate grumbled, and went back to sucking, just to avoid looking into those arrogant, knowing eyes. Asshole. He hated him. God, did he hate him.
“Do you?” Ferrara murmured, gripping his hair hard and then—
Nate moaned when he felt a hard leg between his thighs, pressing against his erection.
The bastard chuckled, thrusting into his mouth, using him, owning him. God, he hated him, hated him—
Nate came into his pants, grinding against his boss’s leg and moaning weakly. Ferrara held him still, pumping his cock into his mouth and then spilling deep into his throat.
Nate swallowed greedily—and then promptly tried to look grossed out.
He finally let the softening cock out of his mouth and tucked it back into Ferrara’s pants, his face very warm.
He got to his feet, trying to act like his pants didn’t have a wet spot. If the asshole mocked him for that, he was going to fucking punch him.
“I think we should talk about finding a replacement for me,” Nate said, clearing his throat.
Ferrara looked up from fixing his belt. “What.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Nate said, “My replacement. You do remember that the six months will be over in ten days, right?” He smiled. “I hope you have already talked to the game monetization director about removing the MTX from Rangers 5.”
Ferrara stared at him with an unreadable look. “You’re still going on about your ridiculous bet.”
Ridiculous bet?
Incredulous, Nate laughed. “Of course I am. That’s why I’m still here. And don’t be such a sore loser. The bet isn’t ridiculous just because you lost. Don’t you dare backtrack now. You promised.”
Ferrara’s gaze moved back to his computer. “Fine,” he said, but it still wasn’t very reassuring. Nate didn’t like the strange, calculating look in his eyes at all.
“I’ll tell HR to start looking for a new PA,” Nate said when the silence stretched.
“It’s not necessary,” Ferrara said, starting to type something. “My staff is very thorough. I’m sure that’s already taken care of.”
“Right,” Nate said. “You also promised a recommendation letter.”
Ferrara’s lips twisted. “Don’t worry, I keep my word,” he said. “You may go now.”
Nate was frowning as he turned to leave. Although Ferrara had seemingly agreed to keep his end of the deal, something about the exchange made him feel uneasy and unsettled.
He just didn’t believe it was going to be that easy.
Chapter 9
The HR department did have a replacement lined up, apparently.
Connor McDonough was an extremely capable PA with years of experience working for executives of big companies.
Frankly, he made Nate feel awkward and self-conscious about his own, very limited job experience. It was kind of difficult to teach your replacement when that replacement was far more capable at this job than you were.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Connor said, smiling his perfect little smile as he gently took the notebook from Nate and followed Ferrara into the conference room.
Nate was left standing there, looking at the door that closed in his face.
Okay.
It was fine.
It wasn’t like he even liked this job or something. Connor-the-perfect-PA could totally keep acting like he could do everything better than Nate. He probably really could. It shouldn’t have bothered him. And it didn’t. Not at all. Nate was fucking ecstatic. It was nice to just chill for a while at his desk, doing nothing productive.
Nate was playing solitaire when Ferrara and Connor finally returned from the meeting.
He probably shouldn’t have taken such pleasure from seeing the hurried, nervous look on Connor’s face as he timidly followed their boss. The boss in question exuded irritation in tangible waves, his jaw clenched and his face like stone. For once, Satan’s insufferable attitude was very welcome. It made Nate feel less useless when Ferrara fixed him with a heavy look out of black eyes and motioned to his office with his head.