André

by Jayce Ellis

  André peered at me from his seat, a combination of bone-deep tiredness and the thin thread of professionalism that had kept him from cussing this man out, etched deep into his face.

  I faced his client. “Mr. Walker, what brings you here unannounced today?”

  He frowned, looked me up and down. “I don’t know who you are.”

  “Marcus Thompson. I’ve been working with Mr. Ellison.”

  He grumbled something under his breath, and I smiled, knowing damn good and well there was nothing pleasant about it. “Well, Mr. Ellison here can’t tell me what I should do.”

  “What’s the issue?” I asked as politely as I knew how.

  “My wife done up and left. Said her inheritance means she don’t need me. And I said it was our inheritance, and she laughed at me. Then I said fine, I should get all the savings and stuff we got here, and she laughed more.”

  I wanted to laugh too. Instead, I moved closer to André, and held in my smile when the tips of his fingers found and gripped my pants leg. If he opened his mouth, I’m pretty sure André wouldn’t be able to hold in his temper. Thank God for me.

  “Mr. Walker, I confess I’m confused why you’re here instead of at a divorce attorney’s office.”

  “They all say the same damn thing. Her inheritance belongs to her, but the investments belong to both of us and she’s entitled to them.”

  Um, yeah. Kinda how that worked. “And...you’re here because you want Mr. Ellison to tell you something different?”

  “Well, that shit can’t be right!”

  I held my hands up in an attempt at a placating gesture, though to be honest I didn’t give a fuck. I didn’t know this man from Adam, but I applauded his wife on her choice to leave.

  “To be honest, I don’t know the law well enough to say whether the advice you’ve been given is accurate or not.” I hated having to play dumb to make him leave, but we needed to be on a plane in a few hours and this conversation was even more a waste of time and energy than the meeting was. “But it’s—” I made a show of checking my watch “—almost three on a Friday afternoon. You have an appointment scheduled for next week, right? Why don’t you address it then?”

  He fiddled with the brim of his cap, and I forced myself not to check for acronyms on it. “I don’t know if she’s gonna come with me Tuesday. He said she had to be here.” He pointed at André, whose expression hadn’t changed. Nor had the grip on my pants lessened.

  “Well, I’m sure you can convince her of its import, regardless of your marital status.” I smiled and dared him to keep arguing.

  He didn’t. Mr. Walker stood and started for the door, and André pushed to his feet. I held up a hand to stop him. “I’ll walk him to the door and be back momentarily.”

  André nodded and sat back down, and I followed Mr. Walker to the entrance, waiting until he’d walked on the elevator before relaxing. “Goddamn,” I whispered to Fiona, who was still at the front desk. “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Thankfully no,” she said, her features softening with Mr. Walker gone. “Walker thinks everyone owes him something. He’s used to people groveling at his feet. His wife found André and he’s hated him from jump. I can’t wait ’til he can turn those clients down, tell them to take a short walk off a long plank or whatever it is they say.”

  More proof that he needed the Pennington project. I rapped the ledge of the desk a few times and strolled back to the office, shut the door behind me and pulled André to stand.

  “What—”

  I took his mouth, pressing my tongue insistently at his lips. They parted for me and I dove in, holding his face in my hands while I thrust in and out. He didn’t stiffen at all, immediately wrapping his fingers into my belt loops and pulling me to him. The need I had for him, something that had started sexual and was turning into so much more, increased the longer I touched him. I shifted until I was leaning against the desk and spread my legs to make space for him, and he slotted himself in place.

  And it felt like exactly where he was meant to be. André might not say the words, but the way he clung to me, melted into me and let me lead? He needed this as much as I did. He rocked his hips and I finally broke away. The idea of taking him right here, right now, made me rock hard, but the last thing we needed was someone to walk in or see us.

  “God, how am I supposed to not touch you this weekend?” I muttered in his ear.

  André groaned and leaned his forehead against mine. “We only have a few more days.”

  “And we’ve already broken the rules. What’s one more?” I was only half joking. Not even half.

  “Think about how much better it’ll be next week if we wait.” André stepped back and adjusted his crotch in front of me, and I yearned to replace his hand with my own.

  “You mean how fast I’ll come and then have to have faith in my youth to get hard again?”

  He laughed, long and loud, and I just shook my head. “Come on,” André said. “We need to get to the airport.”

  Holy hell. I checked the clock on his computer and cursed. “You got what you need, right?”

  André nodded, and I pulled him into another kiss. “Then let’s do this.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  André

  As hot as DC was, it didn’t hold a candle to Tallahassee. Marcus and I maneuvered through the airport and bustled into a cab, going from stifling mugginess to the artificial cold of the air conditioner and back a few times before we hit the lobby. I wheeled my bag in, trying to be covert, but my eyes were on rotation, making sure I didn’t miss anything. Or anyone. Let’s be real: I needed a night to get my head right before I dealt with my family or their friends.

  Marcus and I walked to the front, and I handed over my ID and credit card while she scanned my name. She returned them and gave us a small smile. “So, Mr. Ellison, we’ve got you set up for two nights in a king suite.”

  “A king? Not two queens?” I asked. I’d wanted a king, the idea of sharing a bed with Marcus fueling fantasies all week, but that was before we’d given in even a little. Now that I’d touched, tasted him again, I needed the two beds to maintain my sanity.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. We did see a note that you’d requested two queens, but between suite blocks and football games, we just weren’t able to swing it.” Between FSU and FAMU, the football games was legit, and I’d plumb forgotten about it.

  Marcus laid one hand against my lower back, much the same as I’d done him last night at the networking event. “We’ll survive with one king,” he told her.

  Her eyes widened and she looked down, stammering a bit. “I’ll see if we can get a cot sent up.”

  But Marcus was already shaking his head. “No need. We’ll manage.”

  I coughed, shifted, pressed back into that palm. “Yes,” I concurred. “One king is fine.”

  She finished processing the room and pointed us to the elevators. I should scope out the place, make sure I knew where everything was for tomorrow night, but right now I needed rest more than anything. We headed toward the banks, Marcus’s hand not having moved from its position.

  “André Ellison,” a woman called from the direction of the meeting rooms.

  I looked to my right and barely swallowed a moan. Mrs. Browne, one of Mom’s best friends. It was no surprise she was involved in setting this up for Pops, but she was the picture definition of a busybody, and as much as I objectively knew I’d see her while I was here, this wasn’t how I planned it.

  “Mrs. Browne, it’s so good to see you,” I said, keeping my voice light as I bent over to kiss her cheek and accepted her hug.

  “My son said you wouldn’t show up, ’specially since you didn’t make it down for his anniversary.” Yeah, that random one I was supposed to drop everything for. “Glad to see he was wrong.” She pulled back and speared Marcus with a hard look. “And
who’s this?”

  “Marcus Thompson, ma’am,” he said, reaching a hand out to shake.

  “And how do you know our André here?”

  “I’m working with him on a project.”

  “Ahh yes.” She nodded, her voice taking on the slightest edge. “The reason André won’t come home, his business up in the District.” She smiled tightly at me. “Must be doing real well if you have to bring the help with you out of town.”

  I bristled. “Marcus isn’t—”

  “You’re right,” Marcus said, cutting me off. “It’s an honor to work with him, and to be able to be here now.”

  I hid my smirk. People were used to me just taking their shots and never responding, but Marcus didn’t know that and certainly didn’t care. I was about to give our excuses and continue to the room, but the receptionist we’d spoken to picked that moment to run over.

  “Mr. Ellison, we just got another room that’s two queens instead of the king, if you’d like me to switch.”

  Mrs. Browne looked like she might pass out, and Marcus and I both moved closer to her, just in case. When she gathered herself, she didn’t pretend to not want to know my answer.

  And God, I was tempted to take that easy way out and get the two beds. But my mind had latched on to the idea of climbing in the mattress next to him, waking up to his hard body beside mine. I looked up at Marcus and he grinned, the mischief in his eyes telling me more than words could that our thoughts were in sync.

  “Thank you,” I told the receptionist, “but we’re more than okay with the single king.”

  I ignored Mrs. Browne’s gasp even as I said goodnight to her, and we got onto the elevators without further incident.

  “So, is that what I’m in for this weekend? A bunch of not-so-polite nosiness?”

  I snorted. “A lot of it won’t be polite at all, and make no mistake: Mrs. Browne will have told everyone she sees between now and tomorrow night. You’re going to be talk of the town, and you won’t even be there.”

  He squeezed my hand and pulled me to a stop. “You all right? You look like you’re barely holding it together.”

  “Let’s get in first, okay?” He nodded and let me go, and I keyed us into the room.

  Marcus wrapped his arms around my waist and brought my back to rest against his chest. “Talk to me,” he whispered.

  “Everyone is going to think we’re together.”

  “Is that wrong?”

  I sighed. No. Absolutely not. But we hadn’t talked about anything beyond us wanting to fuck when the presentation was over, regardless of how that went. No doubt I wanted Marcus, for more than just sex, and Mr. Johnson’s belief that Marcus felt the same continued to clang around in my head. But no one deserved to be subjected to the amount of breathless gossip Mrs. Browne was sure to drop, especially since there was a legit, non-sex reason he needed to be here. One that had nothing to do with managing my feelings.

  “André, is it wrong for people to think we’re together?”

  I turned in his arms. “Is that what we want? Is that what you want?”

  Marcus trailed a finger down my cheek and pressed forward for a kiss. Damn, why was I so fucking needy for it?

  “I have zero issues with your family and friends thinking we’re together. I have fewer issues with that assumption being based in reality.”

  I grinned and buried my face in his neck. Giddy didn’t adequately describe how I felt, even as I chided myself for being too grown for the emotion. “You saying you want to be with me, Marcus?”

  He tightened his grip on me. “Yeah, I do.”

  His words, man. I closed my eyes and let them seep into my system. Then I craned up to him and fused our lips together. It was the first time I’d been the aggressor, and Marcus seemed momentarily stunned. I was about to pull away when Marcus groaned deep in his throat and clamped one hand on my neck and tightened the other around my waist, shuffling us until we were lying next to each other on the bed. Thank God for the single king.

  We broke apart just long enough to strip, then Marcus climbed on top of me. I’d fantasized about his weight, but the feel of his body pressing deliciously into mine was better than I could imagine. I spread my legs and he shifted, rolling to his back and pulling me above him.

  “Forgot how good you feel,” he murmured, his hands squeezing and massaging my ass. He sucked a finger into his mouth, then pulled one cheek to the side and rubbed my hole with it. I rocked into the sensation, alternating between the need to keep him out and to let him in.

  “Can’t wait to have this,” Marcus said, tapping me with his fingers. “Gonna feel so damn good when I get in you.”

  I groaned into his chest, rocking my dick against his. Our height difference meant I couldn’t rub our dicks and kiss him in this position, not unless he was exceptionally bendy. Which might be worth figuring out at some point.

  For the time being, I was more than content with the way Marcus forced my legs apart with his own, the way he gripped our lengths in one hand while increasing the pressure on my ass. I pumped my hips, chasing the release I’d been desperate to feel for two weeks now, and pinched Marcus’s nipples. I needed to see him reach his peak too.

  He shouted, coated our lengths and his stomach with his release. Finally, he sank his finger into me, and that was all it took. I came, rocking onto that finger while he stroked me through my orgasm.

  My legs collapsed, and I let myself fall onto his chest. He pulled me up to him and kissed me, shockingly tender. I needed to wipe down, but not yet. Now all I wanted was to lie in my...man’s arms? A not small part of me wondered if it was too much too fast, but I refused to focus on the ways this could go wrong. Far better to think of the ways it could go right. I leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and he moaned.

  Marcus trailed his fingers up and down my back before settling his hand on my ass and cupping it possessively. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  I groaned, both from the contact and the thought of seeing my family the next day. “I have to meet my brothers for breakfast. It’s at seven or something, so I should be back by nine. I’m part of the surprise or whatever, so they don’t want me to help with setup. I need to be there for six-thirty.”

  “Okay then. Well, that does give us a good chunk of time to get some work done.”

  “Yeah.” I felt like I should say more, but my limbs were heavy and, for the first time, I felt like I could get a good night’s sleep.

  Marcus kissed me once, then again, letting our tongues duel briefly before pulling away. “Let’s get cleaned up then get some rest.” He patted my ass, shifted me off him, and went to the bathroom. I groaned and followed suit, praying the weekend only went up from here.

  Marcus

  Whoo boy, André was an absolute bundle of nerves. He’d left just a few minutes ago to have breakfast with his younger brother, George, and had told me he’d probably hit the gym after. From what I could see, it wasn’t because he needed to work out, more to rid himself of whatever anxiety this meeting had worked up in him.

  I shook my head. My family dynamic could be a little strained, but it was clearly nothing like this.

  I opened up our presentation last night after André had fallen asleep, and saw I’d stopped in the middle of a sentence. I frowned at it, wondering what the hell had happened, then remembered. The way André initiated the kiss, the sheer shock that had pulsed through me at the touch of his lips against mine, the way an almost feral part of me rejected the idea of him pulling away, expressing any hint of remorse or shame for it. I’d wanted it all, and would have gotten it. Of that, there was no doubt, but we were so close to the end of my internship—the only thing I could thank the Penningtons moving up this presentation for—and I refrained. Barely, because goddamn André’d been so hot and tight around my finger, enough that I’d gotten hard just thinking abo
ut it and had abandoned my work to jack off in the bathroom before climbing into bed.

  And waking up this morning? That had been a problem. Because André was apparently some sort of heat-seeking missile, and even though I’d stayed on my side, I’d woken up, having not moved at all, with André draped across me. It was both heavenly and the absolute definition of hell. He’d stirred not long after, so embarrassed that he scrambled off me without saying a word, then rushed into the bathroom to change. I couldn’t understand why, unless he hadn’t wanted me to know he was a little cuddle bunny, which I found endearing.

  I shook my head, trying to clear the focus from André and back onto what I needed to do, what I was actually here for, but the words blurred and there was no hope. I pulled out my phone, and saw a text message from last night waiting.

  Jake: you get in and everything all right? Didn’t hear from you last night.

  Fuck. I hadn’t even thought to let him know I’d landed and was good. At this time of the morning, he might not be up, but I responded anyway.

  Me: Made it in.

  Jake: two queens?

  The one time this dude decided to be awake.

  Me: Nope.

  Jake: you mean y’all sleepin in the same bed???

  Me: It’s a king. There’s plenty of space.

  No way was I getting into how we’d woken up.

  Jake: yeah, like that means anything to you.

  Me: What’s that mean?

  Jake: you pretend to be all rough and tough, but you know you like waking booed up with someone.

  Me: I didn’t move all night.

  I watched those three dots go on for what seemed like forever, before a message popped through.

  Jake: but you wanted to.

  I swear fo’ God, I hated Jake’s ass sometimes. What’s worse, as easy as it was to deny it, especially via text, he’d still know I was lying. Hell, the time I’d taken to think about it now would be clue enough that he was right.

  Me: What I wanted and what I did aren’t the same. Fact is, I didn’t move.