by Jayce Ellis
That’s not to say I wasn’t anxious. But now, it had nothing to do with bottoming, and everything to do with emotion. I liked this guy. I was on the best high, after having nailed the same presentation that had sent me looking for someone like him just two weeks ago. We’d been like giggling schoolboys on the Metro, but I would forever blame the alcohol for that. He’d crowded against me while walking up the escalator, down the street and into Crestline’s lobby. I’d had to dip my eyes when Mr. Johnson caught me and smirked.
Marcus had nibbled the back of my neck the entire way up the elevator, his hands palming my dick through my slacks. He was on me the minute I shut the door, his fingers unfastening my shirt and pushing it and my suit jacket roughly off my shoulders.
“Been wanting this for so long,” he muttered.
I caressed his cheek and he pressed into the touch, his eyes opening and staring at me with a soft grin that belied what we were about to do. This guy liked me, as a person, as much as I liked him. Wanted this, not just as a once off, but as the beginning of something more. Something that transcended the intense hours and weekends spent laboring together. And for that, I wanted to take my time.
I ran a hand down his chest and pulled him tight. “Come on,” I whispered in his ear. “We don’t have to rush.”
He smiled at that, then entwined his fingers with mine and walked backward, pulling me to the bedroom, not stopping until he bumped the side of the mattress and sat down.
“You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” he asked.
I shook my head and he leaned forward to press a kiss against my chest. His hands went to work on my belt buckle, and he removed it deftly, then unfastened my pants.
“Since the minute you walked in that office. I was so shook.”
“Which is why you acted like a complete jackass?”
He chuckled. “I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry about that. The coincidence was too much.”
“It’s a good thing I’m a forgiving person then, isn’t it?”
Marcus pushed my pants and briefs down, just to the tops of my thighs, and took my dick in his hand. “A very good thing,” he said, then dipped his head over to swirl the tip of it.
I let him go for a little while, lost in the pleasure of it, before I pulled back. He looked up at me with the most wounded expression, and I couldn’t stop a small laugh. “I don’t have youth on my side,” I said, palming his cheek. “I have to go with stamina.”
He grunted, the sound low and needy and desperate and music to my ears. He pushed off the bed, forcing me to take a few steps back, then stripped unceremoniously. He stood before me, naked and proud, and I traced the outline of the diamond-shaped brand on his chest. I don’t know how I’d missed that before.
“You like that?” he grunted out.
“Well, I don’t hate it, Nupe.” I leaned forward and licked over it with my tongue, before kissing my way over to first one nipple, then the other. Marcus’s hand came up to clasp the back of my head, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, and he tightened his grip.
I worked down his chest slowly, running my fingers through the sparse patch of hairs on his lower belly before circling the base of his dick with my fingers.
“Goddamn, you look good there,” he muttered.
I laughed, the sound hoarse to my own ears. Then I took him down as far as I could, using my fist to jack him in the opposite direction. Above me, Marcus’s hands seemed to be scrambling for purchase, and he collapsed onto the mattress with a thud. He opened his legs wide and grabbed his knees, holding himself like that for me. It was the most intoxicating sight I’d ever seen.
I shifted, just long enough to grab supplies, then went back to work, taking his dick in my mouth while lubing up my fingers and circling the perimeter of his hole. Above me, Marcus whispered curses, clutched at my sheets, and pushed his ass toward me.
I worked one finger in, up to the first knuckle, and he groaned. “Dre, dammit, don’t play with me. Been too long.”
It made me want to play more, but I was honestly too riled up. I needed to get inside him, to feel him, to celebrate this victory with him as thoroughly as I’d celebrated just having the opportunity a few weeks ago. I prepped him quickly, letting one finger become two while I let go of his dick to love on the rest of him, his thighs, his knees, his lower belly. He laughed and groaned in equal measure, until I crooked my fingers and he almost jackknifed off the bed.
Marcus growled and clamped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Get in here.”
I gently removed my fingers and grabbed the condom, rolling it down my length and coating it with lube, while Marcus centered himself on the mattress. I pushed one leg wide, and he gripped it tightly, then hooked the other leg over my shoulder as I found purchase at his entrance.
“Breathe out for me, baby,” I said.
He did and I pressed forward, stopping for a second at how absolutely insanely good it felt. I went slow, slower than last time at least, working my way in with small thrusts and jerks while Marcus tightened his hold on his knee with one hand and on the sheets with the other. The cords in his neck strained, his breaths heavy, but when I paused to let him get adjusted, he looked up long enough to growl at me, “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
When I was finally fully seated, he released his leg and wrapped it around my waist, then pulled me to him while pushing up on one arm to kiss me.
“Been dreaming about this, so fucking much. Remind me what you can do.”
The idea that he’d dreamed about this, enough to ask me to top tonight, was almost more than I could take.
I pulled out and rocked in, not the pounding from last time, but something slower, softer, whatever. Something that wouldn’t make me bust immediately, when I needed this to last. Marcus relaxed into it, getting his bearings and pushing back on me. His lips never left mine and his hand snaked between us to grab his own dick and tug.
“That good?” I whispered next to him when I pulled away for air.
He nodded, his eyes half open, hazy, all things I hadn’t gotten to see the last time. I kissed his temples and he gave a little laugh. “So goddamn good. Make me come?”
I substituted his hand for mine, striping the length of his dick, twisting at the top, smearing the precome over him. I wiped up a bit that had pooled on his stomach and sucked it into my mouth, and was rewarded with a low groan, a shift, then Marcus increasing the pace from underneath.
“Damn, Dre, I’m right there.”
I let his leg drop and moved, getting on my knees and letting him plant his feet on the mattress. “You need to come, baby?”
A loud moan was his only response, as he fisted his dick, running one hand over the other as he reached his peak. I sped up, increasing my thrusts and pumping into him while he brought himself to the edge, and was rewarded with spurt after spurt of come, coating his chest, up to his neck, the perfect place for me to lick it off.
I let loose on his lax body, dropping my weight down on him like I had the last time, but now I could see him. I could kiss him. So I did, again and again, until he said, “Come, you bastard.”
The laugh that rumbled through me started low and exploded in my gut, and I laughed straight through my release, my head buried in his neck.
“Goddamn, that was good,” Marcus whispered after we lay there for a few minutes. I grunted in acknowledgment, then with great effort rolled over and fished some wipes from the nightstand. I handed a few to him, which he accepted with an almost indecipherable “thanks.” We could clean up more thoroughly once we were lucid.
“Congratulations,” Marcus said after another beat. “I’m really happy for you.”
I turned and looked at him, the goofy little grin on his face warming something deep inside me. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done this without you.” I pushed up to an elbow and leaned over to kiss him. “So, tomorrow?
”
Marcus sighed. “Tomorrow. I guess I’ll go back to Clarymore.”
“Makes sense. When will I see you?” Good God, I hoped that didn’t sound as pathetic to him as it did to my own ears.
“How’s tomorrow night? Dinner?” Marcus asked, that smile on his face letting me know in no uncertain terms that dinner wasn’t the only thing on the menu. For right now, that was more than enough.
Marcus
I actually went back to the row house before heading in to Clarymore the next day. I was surprised Jake was there, because he’d normally be gone by now. I was not surprised he was pissed when I walked in. “Where the fuck you been?”
I held my hand up. I got the anger, because I hadn’t checked in for two days, not to let him know I’d gotten back on Sunday and was staying at André’s, not to let him know how the presentation had gone, damn sure not to let him know I’d spent last night with André as well. He had absolutely every right to be upset, but I wasn’t in the place to process it.
“I know, I fucked up,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I gotta get changed and get to the office.”
“Yeah? Which office is that?”
I sighed. I couldn’t even really get mad at him, because I would’ve acted the same way had he dipped out for forty-eight hours—past our weekly check-in—and not reached out. “You hungry?” I asked instead.
He crossed his arms. “Don’t think feeding me’s going to change the fact that I’m mad at you. I was fucking worried. I legit almost called your mama.”
Goddamn. He was worried.
“I get it, I do,” I assured him. “I just would really prefer to have this conversation over food.”
He frowned, then raised a considering brow. “What you cooking?”
“I ain’t got time for much. Bacon, egg, and cheese?”
“Canadian bacon?”
“Is there any other way?”
“Bet, I’m in.”
Yeah, I figured as much. Those number ones on the breakfast menu had been our staple for a long time.
“But no, really,” Jake said as he took a seat at the counter. “How’d the presentation go? It was yesterday, right?”
I smiled, thinking about how André had tossed the playbook and spoken from the heart. “We got it. They offered it to us on the spot. Didn’t take the time to think or consult or anything.”
“Don’t think I miss how you said we, and not he.”
I thought about that. Was I supposed to say he, since it was technically André’s proposal? Maybe, but we’d work so closely on it, and I was a critical part of it. Hell, I’d let Jake ascribe whatever meaning he wanted to it.
So I just shrugged. “Well, he got it.”
“That’s good stuff. Tell him I said congrats. But wait,” he said, and I turned from the skillet to see him frowning. “Are you going to see him again? I mean, I’m sure that’s where you been the past few nights and all that, but what happens when we get back to school?”
Something we hadn’t explicitly talked about. We were together now, but what did that logistically mean? This weekend was Labor Day, and school started Tuesday. My final year. I could see him, because second-year classes ran Monday through Thursdays and I’d have weekends off. But I was probably supposed to work on those weekends, assuming Clarymore wanted me to stay on the Pennington project, and the cost of flying down here would add up quick. Even if he came to Wharton half the time, I didn’t know how that added strain would impact a new relationship.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said to Jake. “We’ve kind of been busy with other things.”
Jake made a humming sound in his throat and sat back. “I mean, I get it. I’d want to just revel in getting good dick on the regular for a little while before I had to worry about that either, but you can’t be catching feelings for someone if the distance is going to make it unbearable.”
So why, in my post-coital haze, did Jake have to be the voice of reason? These weren’t things I hadn’t thought about, but they were definitely things I’d shoved to the side. Stuff I could deal with another day, while I was in new-boo bliss. Well, apparently today was that other day.
I fixed us both two sandwiches and pulled up a stool next to him. We ate in fairly amicable silence, going over the rest of the weekend, me telling him about the trip to Florida. He shook his head and agreed when I said I understood why André didn’t get home much. When he left, I dashed upstairs to change my outfit and do the same.
* * *
To say it was weird coming back to Clarymore as an actual intern after two weeks away was an understatement. Never before had I wished to find Shelby or Brian, people who’d been gone as long as I had, who might have some sympathy. But Phil—whom I no longer thought of as my supervisor or Supe, now that I knew his connection to André—stopped me as soon as I got to my workstation in the open area. I tried to imagine him and André together, and it was impossible.
“Harold wants you in his office ASAP. The Penningtons asked for you.”
I guess I wasn’t totally surprised. The Penningtons had said they wanted one of the interns that worked the case to stay on for more hands-on experience, but there’d been no guarantee they’d choose the intern from the winning candidate, something Phil had made clear in his original emails. They were evaluating our performances independently of their partnership choice.
A fuzzy feeling started in my stomach, the idea that I’d have an excuse to see André for business reasons, over and above just personally. Because the reality was, I liked working with him. I liked his ideas, the way his mind worked, and his sheer level of hustle in any situation. It was good.
I hiked my messenger bag back on my shoulder and made my way to Harold’s office, which was a few floors above mine. Harold waved me in with a bright smile when he saw me, and I took a seat next to Phil, who gave me a megawatt beam. I’d rolled my eyes at it before. Now I straight up didn’t trust it.
“Marcus, Nancy Pennington demanded that you be on this team. She was actually quite impressed with Shelby and Brian as well, and since they’re local, they’ll probably get an offer in some limited capacity as well, but you she was insistent on.”
I smiled at that, letting a bit of the praise soak into me. “I’d be honored to be on the project. I’m assuming I’ll be working remotely?”
“She asked that you work in a closer coordination with Mr. Ellison, from Wharton, two days a week, and the firm is willing to fly you down to be on-site twice a month. We understand you’re in school and have assignments, so if we have to maneuver some things around, we’ll make it work.”
All I could do was grin. “That sounds perfect, really. I’m in.”
“We know you only have another few days before you head back, so we set up a temporary office down the hall and you’ll be working there for the rest of the week and when you fly in.”
I nodded, even though a part of me was actually a little sad at that. I’d almost been looking forward to getting back to the noise level of the interns’ floor, but I shook the thought away. Four days wasn’t going to kill me. Hell, I might even try to go out with them this final weekend. Maybe. Depended on what André had planned.
“Phil, would you mind escorting Marcus to his office?”
“Of course,” Phil said, setting the foot he had casually over his knee down and pushing to stand. “I’ll show you to your new digs.”
Harold looked at us, like he was issuing a warning, though to who, I didn’t know. He knew André and I were dating, knew I wanted nothing to do with Phil now. Knowing Harold, it was a test to make sure I could put my personal feelings aside and do my job. Right now, as new as me and Dre were, I wouldn’t bet on it.
Still, I followed Phil down the hall and around the corner, to an empty room that looked remarkably like the one I’d spent two weeks in with André. Absolutely nothing personal about it,
clearly made for someone who wasn’t going to be there for any length of time. I swallowed my chuckle as I set my messenger bag on the desk.
“So, this will be your office for the duration of the internship. Finally get your own. Nice, huh?” Phil gave me an expectant grin, like four whole days was really doing something.
I nodded. “I had my own office at Ellison, too, but this is nice.” I could give him at least that much.
His smile grew strained. “Great. Then I’ll leave you to it. Do you need anything else from me?”
I thought about it for a minute, and my eyes zeroed in on the way he twisted a watch around his wrist. I’d seen it before, shiny and gold and something that matched his personality directly, but he’d never fiddled with it. Until recently.
“Nope,” I finally said. “I think we’re good to go.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” Phil said, and shut the door behind him.
I took a look at my surroundings and sank into the seat. I hadn’t felt this isolated, even before André had walked in the room. This office was where people went to die, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t sure if I could handle years of this. There was no movement, no outside noise—hell, I hadn’t seen a soul on the way down here.
I was deep in my world when a knock at the door came, and there was André, a glorious sight for my desperate eyes. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Had a meeting with Harold about the partnership. He told me where to find you.” He looked around. “Nice digs you got here.”
I didn’t miss the humor in his voice, and I didn’t care. It hadn’t even been a day, not even a whole morning, and I missed him. Was glad to see him. Wanted to bail and get back to the good stuff with him.
It didn’t take more than a thought for me to leave my chair and engulf André in an embrace. And less than that for Phil to walk by and see us, just like that.
Chapter Twenty