“Nothing,” I murmur contentedly. But Michael can read me like a book. A single look or touch, and it’s like we know what the other’s thinking without saying a word.
“Is it Jase?” he asks gently, and I feel him take a slow deep breath of his own.
Knowing we’re both thinking about the same thing, but for different reasons.
“Yeah,” I whisper, “And my Dad…and the work I’m supposed to be here for,” I add, but Michael only holds me closer, his huge hand so gentle on my head as he keeps stroking my hair.
Something I never thought I’d like so much. And he just somehow knows to do it naturally.
I’m almost expecting Michael to tell me I need never work again or that this is all my life is now. A permanent position on his desk or in his lap as he pleasures me. One quaking climax after the other.
But as much as I know that’s what he’d like too, we both still live and breathe in the real world.
“Do you really like numbers?” he asks after thinking quietly to himself.
“I mean, do you really want to do all that boring stuff?”
I feel my head nodding, but only because, for now at least, it was the main reason for coming here.
“Jase is your boss, I suppose,” Michael sighs again, “I mean, he’ll be expecting something to show for your efforts when he gets back.”
I shift myself on Michael so I’m level with his face.
My weight on him, my arms pressing into him as I prop myself up, only seem to make him look more content.
Like having a cat’s claws knead at you until it settles.
“But you’re his boss, aren’t you?” I ask, sounding blonder than I mean to. Making him chuckle again.
“Yes, I am, and I’m his Dad, too…but what I mean is, if you really like numbers and that kind of work, that’s always gonna be there.”
I relax some, feeling like my guilt over falling for my boss’s Dad, my best friend's Dad, can at least be smoothed over if I show Jase that I can do the work as much as I’m doing his Dad.
“Maybe I should…I mean, just until we…I mean…. Maybe we don’t have to tell anyone about this, right?” I ask, chewing at my lip as I picture Jase and then my Dad’s faces if they did find out.
Michael growls to himself, and only because I know he’s grappling with his own version of the same thing.
“I’m not used to sneaking around in my own life,” he grumbles. “I mean, if you’re mine and you are now, I don’t care who knows about it,” he says with just a hint of attitude.
But we both know it’s just easier if we keep it under wraps.
“Just for a while,” I ask, pleading with my eyes until he begrudgingly agrees.
“I guess so. If only to keep the peace,” he says, smiling to himself suddenly.
As if he’s just remembered something.
“What is it?” I ask. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” he says, his smile widening until I tickle his muscular ribs, making him laugh as I find the man’s weakness.
He’s ticklish.
“Stop!” he cries out, his whole body shaking as I wield my newest weapon. About as much power as I could have over the man physically anyway.
“Then tell me,” I command, smiling just as much as he is.
“I just think…but don’t quote me on it, that Jase might be away a little longer than anyone expected.”
My face twists into a question, and all Michael says to close the topic is that he knows Jase pretty well.
“Even better than his best friend,” he adds with a wink.
I have no idea what that means, but if it makes Michael happy, then I’m happy to play along.
“Anyhow, I’m kinda done with work for today. At my desk anyhow. How about we get outta here? These people know what they’re doing,” he adds, jutting his chin toward the locked office door.
“Where to?” I ask, swallowing hard as I pray that he doesn’t want to go back to my house.
Even if it was all mine, which it isn’t, I’d die from embarrassment if Michael saw how I lived.
If his office and company building is anything to go by, and if what I’ve seen of his place from Jase’s selfies, the Hart household is a freaking mansion.
Whereas Dad and me live in what wouldn’t even be suitable as a tool shed in comparison.
“I was thinking, after you get dressed, of course, that we get something to eat. Maybe take a walk, or I could just take you home and fuck your little virgin opening until you’re full of my babies,” he says.
Listing all of it off as though it’s a grocery or chores to-do list.
“Is that all I am to you now?” I jokingly protest. Shivering internally at all of his suggestions, but especially the last one.