Office Romance Box Set

by J. M. Snyder

  “Executive assistant,” Bryce continued. He wracked his brain, trying to recall the job description he’d been given at the first interview. “Someone to manage your daily correspondence, maintain your schedule, represent you at in-house meetings when you cannot attend…um, coordinate travel arrangements as necessary, work with Alecia on day-to-day office management and new hire procedures…something about overseeing departmental managerial staff projects…”

  With a dismissive wave of his hand, Mr. Eckhart said, “You have a good memory, I’ll give you that. But what I want to know is, what do you think the job entails?”

  “You need a yes-man,” Bryce said, cutting to the chase. “Someone who will do what you want him to do, no questions asked.”

  Mr. Eckhart sort of shrugged, which Bryce thought might be a sign he was impressed. “And do you think you can do that?”

  Bryce bit back a smile of his own. “Yes, sir.”

  “Let’s see, then.”

  But Mr. Eckhart didn’t move, so Bryce waited, wondering what exactly he had to do to prove himself qualified for the position.

  After a long moment, Mr. Eckhart said, “I am going to see how loyal you can be, and I should warn you, it will be graphic. I give you my word—you will not be harmed. In fact, you might say I’ll be sure to use protection. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, tell me now and we will end things here. You won’t get the job, of course, but—”

  “Yes.” The word was free before Bryce even knew he’d spoken out loud. Mr. Eckhart was talking about sex, he had to be, and when he said he’d use protection, Bryce’s cock woke with a start. “Let me prove to you I’m your man. Please.”

  Mr. Eckhart said simply, “Then close your eyes.”

  * * * *

  Even now, Bryce smiles at the memory of that first interview.

  Close your eyes. Keep them closed.

  “There is only one response to anything I ask you,” Eckhart had told him. “I think you know what it is. Any other word you might say will bring this conference to an end and you will walk out of here unemployed. Do you understand?”

  He knew the right response. “Yes, sir.”

  After a pause, during which Bryce heard Eckhart shift forward on the sofa slightly, his future boss explained, “I’m doing this for two reasons. One: to test your loyalty, as I’ve said. To see if I can trust you. And two: to train you. To show you what I expect from an executive assistant.”

  Then, without warning, Eckhart was right beside him, and the sudden closeness sent shivers down Bryce’s spine. He leaned in close, his breath warm in Bryce’s ear. “This is very much part of the job,” he whispered, “but you won’t find them anywhere on the official job description. Are you ready?”

  Bryce replied, “Yes, sir.”

  Keeping his eyes shut proved to be the hardest part. He heard the faint pop of Eckhart’s knees as the boss stood, heard the swish of fabric as Eckhart crossed the room, heard a cabinet open somewhere against a far wall. He had to squeeze his eyes tight to keep from peeking.

  From the other side of the office, Eckhart said, “Stand.”

  Bryce was on his feet at once. “Yes, sir.” He took a moment to straighten his suit jacket, then crossed his hands in front of him and waited.

  He heard soft footsteps on the plush carpet, and when Eckhart spoke again, it was from a closer position. “Take two steps forward, please. Remember, there’s a table just to your right, so be careful.”

  Bryce obeyed. One step, tentative, then another, and he felt Eckhart brush by him. Hands caressed his lapels from behind, trailed down the front of his chest, then unbuttoned his jacket, plink, plink, plink. Eckhart’s voice breathed into his ear again. “Arms apart. We’re taking this off.”

  Another thrill raced through Bryce as he raised his arms out at his sides and let Eckhart ease the jacket off. Though his eyes were still closed, he was sure the sounds he heard were Eckhart folding it neatly onto the sofa behind them. Then those hands were on his nape, folding up his collar to get at his tie. With fast, quick motions, Eckhart loosened Bryce’s tie from behind and tugged it open, then slipped out the knot to undo it completely. That, too, was whisked away.

  A foot stuck out between his shoes and knocked from side to side, bumping first one, then the other, prodding them farther apart. When Bryce complied, Eckhart cautioned, “Not too wide. There—that’s good.”

  Hands on his waist now, easing around his belt to the buckle. Bryce sucked in a quick breath and held it, biting his lower lip to keep it trapped inside. His mind whirled out in one word—yes, yes, YES—but he didn’t want to seem too eager. Speak when spoken to, wasn’t that what Eckhart wanted?

  But his resolve broke when Eckhart unzipped his slacks and eased one forefinger into the open fly to press against Bryce’s stiffening cock. Even through Bryce’s briefs, the touch was electric. With a hiss, he gasped, “Yes, ah—” and caught himself before anything else tumbled out, God or please or anything that might put a stop to the pleasant sensation of this man’s hand on him. Instead Bryce said it again, “Yes, yes,” and Eckhart slid his whole hand into the open fly to grasp the outline of Bryce’s thick dick.

  Yes.

  Eckhart leaned against Bryce, closing the distance between them. “Unbuckle your belt,” he purred, thrusting his hips forward.

  Bryce felt a hard, unyielding erection press up against his buttocks. Quickly, he fumbled with the buckle. “Yes, sir.”

  A moment later, it hung free and his slacks gapped open, allowing Eckhart full access. Eckhart ground his hips into Bryce’s, humping Bryce through their clothing, as he kneaded Bryce’s thick cock with both hands now. His chin rested on Bryce’s shoulder. Each breath tickled the hair behind Bryce’s ear, a delightful little breeze fluttering through him.

  Yes.

  “Oh, you’re a good size,” Eckhart murmured. He encircled Bryce’s shaft and kneaded the length as he hefted it in his hand, then his fingers dipped into Bryce’s briefs to strum over the fuzzy nutsack still swaddled inside. “Eyes still shut?”

  Bryce stuttered, “Y-y-yes, sir.” The words were becoming more difficult for him now. The animal part of his brain was taking over; language was replaced with emotion and raw desire, hungry need.

  “A yes-man.” Eckhart’s voice dripped with honey as his teeth nipped at Bryce’s earlobe. “You’re good at this.”

  With a moan, Bryce leaned back against him, giving into the moment. He wanted to lose himself—in the man, in the moment—but suddenly Eckhart released his cock and moved away. Bryce staggered to regain his footing. His eyes fluttered, almost opening, almost, but he caught himself in time and clamped them shut. Did that count? Had Eckhart seen?

  Apparently so, because he said softly, “Good boy. Now, lean forward—go ahead, bend over. The arm of the sofa’s right in front of you. Grab hold of it with both hands. Right, just like that. Legs a little farther apart. Back arched. Ass in the air.”

  Bryce did as instructed.

  Eckhart smacked Bryce’s butt through his slack pants. “Nice. Stay like that. Don’t move, got that?” When he nodded, Eckhart said, “I can’t hear you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bryce felt like a prized slut, waiting to be fucked. His whole body hummed with anticipation. This was part of the job description, something he’d be asked to do every day while employed? Sign me up already, he thought, gripping the arm of the leather sofa with sweaty palms. Please and yes and thank you very much, Mr. Eckhart.

  Behind him, he heard rustling fabric. His dick throbbed, but he resisted the urge to reach for it and relieve the ache himself. This was a test, hadn’t Eckhart said something to that effect before they started? To gauge Bryce’s loyalty. To earn Eckhart’s trust. He would wait to be told what to do, and would do only what was asked of him because, sweet Jesus God above, he wanted this job now more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life, ever.

  He heard a snap—it sounded like fabric pulled taut between two hands. Then Eckha
rt explained, “I expect my assistant to wear a tie at all times while in the office. It looks professional and manly, but some younger guys think they’re…old-fashioned. A little noose, I’ve heard them called. I’ve always found them so damn sexy, though. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.” The words were clipped; what Bryce wanted to say was, Please, now, fuck me now! But he didn’t.

  “During our daily conferences,” Eckhart continued, with another snap Bryce now recognized was his discarded tie being snapped between the boss’s hands, “you will be permitted to remove your tie for one reason, and one reason only. This is that reason.”

  With a yank, he pulled down Bryce’s slacks. They fell in a smooth rush to the floor, followed by his briefs. The office air was cool on his ass and he clenched his cheeks, waiting.

  One warm hand eased under his buttocks and between his legs, tickling over sensitive skin, to grab his balls from behind. Bryce drew in a sharp breath as Eckhart squeezed his nuts, tugging them back. Spreading his legs wider, Bryce leaned down over the sofa and felt a hot, wet tongue rim his puckered hole.

  “Yes!” he cried, flexing every muscle in his body, from his ass to his toes. His fingers clawed into the leather sofa; his lower lip caught between his teeth. The soft press of Eckhart’s probing tongue rimming his anus sent shivers up his spine and down his thighs; it weakened his knees and made the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end. His voice grew hoarse as he cried out again, “Yes, yes!”

  He almost missed the feel of the satiny band wrapping around his balls. Then Eckhart tightened the necktie, and a sweet pressure blossomed low in Bryce’s groin. Tighter, another notch, and the pressure became an ache, throbbing in time with the beat of his heart. His cock stiffened, standing up on its own so the head brushed against the arm of the sofa and left behind a smear of precome.

  “Oh G—” Bryce caught himself, swallowed down the Lord’s name, and gasped instead, “yes, sir. Yes.”

  Eckhart’s hot breath fanned his ass. “Tighter?”

  “Yes,” Bryce pleaded. “Yesyesyes.”

  The tie tightened, his balls now pulsating between his legs. His dick bumped against the arm of the sofa again and it took all the strength he had not to hump the sofa to find release. Fuck me now, he thought, as if Eckhart might possibly hear the words and put them into action. Just in case, Bryce arched his back and thrust his ass at Eckhart’s face, trying to get that elusive tongue inside him. Fuck me, please. Fuck me hard. Just do it now. Do it, please. Please. Please.

  With his tie in place as a makeshift cockring, Bryce felt every breath on his backside, every touch on his buttocks, every lick between his cheeks. Every sensation was heightened, and his eyes hurt from being closed so tightly. He knew without looking that the leather sofa would hold the impressions of his fingers for days. Please, please, please. Why couldn’t he beg?

  Finally, God, Eckhart whispered the words Bryce had been longing to hear. “Do you want me to—”

  “Yes!” Bryce didn’t even let him finish the sentence. He threw his head back and let the word claw free from his throat, and it cracked around them like an echo. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  At some point, Eckhart must have dropped his own pants, because when he stood and pressed his groin to Bryce’s ass, Bryce felt a hard cock slide along the crack of his ass. Nothing separated them this time—no pants, no briefs, nothing but the slippery condom covering Eckhart’s thick shaft. Bryce’s hole was already slick with the boss’s spittle, and now gentle fingers widened it, working him open, making room for the large dick that eased into him by degrees. With each half-inch that went in, Bryce gasped, “Yes, yes,” until the words ran together into one, a litany of lust, “yesyesyesyesyesyesOHGodYESplease.”

  Eckhart must’ve heard it. Hell, Alecia and anyone passing by in the hallway outside the office could have heard. But he thrust in deeper and ignored the slight, and Bryce relaxed when the conference, as Eckhart had called it, didn’t come to an end. Instead, their bodies finally locked together, Eckhart’s dick sliding easily into Bryce’s ass, as if it were the missing piece of a puzzle and nothing else could complete them. They moved together at a fast, furious pace, Eckhart rocking into Bryce, who pushed against the sofa and back against him. It was raw and immediate, and Bryce felt his orgasm building within him, yes, yes, yes.

  But he couldn’t come with his balls knotted up. Bryce heard Eckhart grunt as he climaxed, then he reached between Bryce’s legs and tugged the tie loose. Feeling flooded Bryce’s nuts and he came in a hot rush, his jism spurting on the leather sofa and splashing back on his legs and belly. His knees really did give out then, and when he fell, he found himself in Eckhart’s embrace.

  Warm lips kissed his closed eyelids as a cool hand smoothed the hair back from his sweaty brow. “Congratulations,” Eckhart murmured. “You got the job. Can you start Monday?”

  Breathless, Bryce sighed. “Yes, sir.”

  * * * *

  Bryce doesn’t conduct interviews the way Mr. Eckhart does. And, since he’s joined the firm, Mr. Eckhart hasn’t had any reason to interview anyone else personally again. Alecia receives the resumes and performs the initial interviews, then passes any potential candidates onto Bryce for a second look. If he adds a hiring manager on staff, that will eliminate his involvement in the whole process, too, leaving him more time for his other duties. First and foremost of which is, of course, performing any tasks with which Mr. Eckhart needs his assistance.

  At eight o’clock, Alecia arrives at the office and starts in on the Post-Its Bryce has left on her computer. Call the coffee company, find the Japan account, get together the folders for tomorrow’s interviews. When the first candidate arrives ten minutes later, Alecia shows the woman back to Bryce’s desk, which sits immediately outside Mr. Eckhart’s office. Bryce gives the woman his undivided attention while he reviews her resume, barely glancing over her shoulder when Mr. Eckhart passes by at quarter to nine. His phone sits to one side of his desk; as the woman tells him about her last job, Bryce surreptitiously sends a text to his boss that reads simply, Running a little late this morning?

  Two seconds later, the phone vibrates with a reply. At least I made it. I could’ve stayed in bed.

  Bryce suppresses a smile. Alone?

  The potential employee looks from Bryce to his phone, but doesn’t say anything. He pockets the phone, ignoring it when it vibrates with Mr. Eckhart’s answer. “Sorry about that,” he says with a disarming grin. “The boss just got in. You know how it is.”

  “Will I be interviewing with him?” she asks.

  Bryce laughs and shakes his head. “No, no, not at all. Mr. Eckhart oversees the firm as a whole, and much of his day is spent dealing with logistics on a corporate level.”

  She gives Bryce a flirty little smile. “So you’ll be my boss then, Mr. Howerton?”

  “I’m actually Mr. Eckhart’s assistant,” Bryce tells her. “You’ll report to the CSR manager assigned to your shift. You said you were interested in evenings?”

  “Unless you’re interested in my evenings.” From the way she leers at him, she’s only half kidding.

  A little unprofessional, aren’t we? he thinks. As far as he’s concerned, the interview is over.

  Shuffling her resume back into its folder, he tells her, “I’m flattered, really, but I’m in a committed relationship—”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Color pinks her cheeks and she hides her face in her hand. “I didn’t know. I didn’t see a ring…”

  Bryce looks up to find Mr. Eckhart standing in his office doorway. “I think we’re done here.”

  She tries again, “I’m really sorry—”

  “It’s fine, really,” Bryce says.

  Behind her, Mr. Eckhart taps his wrist to indicate the time.

  Bryce glances at his boss. “Thank you very much for your time, Miss—” He checks her resume. “Miss Jackson. You’re extremely qualified for the position, but we have a few more candidates to interview before we fi
ll the position. I hate to cut this short—”

  “No, I understand,” she says quickly, eager to please.

  “But I’m being paged.” He nods at Eckhart.

  She turns in her chair, surprised to find someone behind her. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—hi there. Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Mr. Eckhart holds out a hand to shake hers when she stands. “Miss Jackson, hello. I’m sure Alecia will show you out?” Without waiting for an answer, he heads back in to his office, calling out as he goes, “Mr. Howerton, if I can have a moment, please?”

  Bryce uses his desk phone to page Alecia; a moment later, she appears. “We’ll be in touch by the end of the week. If you have any questions, Alecia can address them for you. Good day.”

  Before either woman can object, Bryce sidesteps both of them and ducks into Mr. Eckhart’s office. He doesn’t get very far inside before the door shuts behind him.

  A sly grin eases across his face. “I have another interview in a few minutes,” he says, turning. “This can’t take long…”

  Mr. Eckhart leans back against the closed door, his immaculately pressed suit wrinkled where his arms are crossed before his chest. The sleepiness Bryce saw on his lover’s face earlier in the morning is gone now, replaced with a wily, wolfish grin. “Was that bitch out there sniffing around my man?” Tim asks. “Come here.”

  Bryce makes a show of checking his watch. “Last time I checked the schedule, I had you down for eleven o’clock. You have another hour and a half before I’m all yours—”

  “Bullshit,” Tim spits. “You’re always mine.”

  Pushing away from the door, he crosses the distance between them in two steps. Wraps his arms around Bryce’s waist, pulls his lover near, holding on so tight Bryce can barely breathe. Tim dips down and presses his mouth to Bryce’s in a lingering kiss that leaves little room for argument—mine, that kiss says, loud and clear. You belong to me. Don’t forget it.

  As if Bryce ever would.

  Bryce runs his hands up Tim’s arms, feeling the firm muscles beneath the soft silk suit, then crosses his wrists behind Tim’s neck to keep them together. They can spare a few minutes, at least. His lips part and Tim’s tongue licks inside him, claiming him, demanding and eager. Is it eleven o’clock yet? Do they have to wait so long?