“We’re on it. Call you back in thirty minutes.” Justin pocketed his phone and stood. He gave Emily a curt nod. “Ms. Lowry, pleasure to see you again.” All the playfulness was gone from his voice, leaving a flat tone in its place. “We’ve got an emergency back at the office. I hope you’ll excuse us.”
Antonio shook her hand. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Whatever the two of you have going on, I hope it doesn’t interfere in the office.” He’d give Justin more of an interrogation, starting with what the fuck were you thinking?
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
“We’ve got things under control.” Antonio smiled, wishing he felt as certain as he sounded.
JUSTIN WAS SUPPOSED to have put tasks like writing code behind him years ago, but he'd brushed off his skills when he and Antonio started doing double shifts to get PP ready for launch. Diving into the project was usually a surefire way to square away his thoughts and have them all make sense.
“Still getting scripting errors on the preview pane.” Mercy's voice filtered through the speaker phone in Justin's office.
“Details?” Antonio had set his laptop up across from Justin.
Mercy read them the pertinent information. It was one of the things Justin liked about having her as an early adopter. She understood the back-end technology well enough to make troubleshooting easy. Or to at least take some of the more basic stress out of it.
“Were we wrong to push for deployment tonight?” Justin asked.
Antonio met his gaze. “They assured me we were set.”
And either he or Antonio would have done a double-check any other day, but with Emily disrupting their schedules and forcing secrecy, they didn't have a chance to. Which brought Justin's thoughts full circle to the one thought he hadn't been able to shake all evening.
He coded, as half his mind took off in Emily’s direction. He should have dialed back the conversation at dinner. Kept things polite, but professional. It was too easy to forget that when Emily started talking though. The same thing that drew him to her Saturday night shone through this evening. He was grateful she kept the details of their hookup to herself, though. Not that she seemed any more interested in spilling than Justin was.
And watching Emily was easier than admitting since Saturday night, he hadn’t been able to get the shared fantasy out of his head. Every time he looked at Antonio, he saw more than the attractive man he shared business decisions and bar hopping trips with. He kept picturing Antonio’s lips around his cock, or the two of them kissing. Fucking. Heat raced over Justin’s skin, flaring to scalding.
“Holy fuck. What did you do?” Mercy’s dismay dragged his attention back to the present.
“Nothing. Hang on.” With a few keystrokes, he brought up the error logs, then mentally smacked himself making a simple error. He corrected the syntax and re-deployed. “Try it now.”
Antonio raised his brows. “Are you here for this?” His voice was low enough Justin had to strain to hear the question.
“I’m fine.” Justin’s response came out sharper than he intended.
“Sure you are,” Mercy said. “Listen, it’s almost eleven here. Ian’s waiting for me. Not that I don’t miss the all-nighters, but... No, wait. I don’t miss them. How long to roll me back to the old code?”
Justin forced down his frustration, until it burned in his lungs. “Twenty minutes.”
“Awesome. Will you pick up?”
Justin exchanged frowns with Antonio but grabbed the receiver and took Mercy off speaker. “What’s up?”
“I hate to bring this up, because I know the two of you are pouring everything into this and we’re running a beta, but your quality is slipping. This isn’t pre-production code. It never should have made it past QA.”
“I’m aware.” He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. It would come out defensive or angry, and that was the wrong way to approach this. “Will you be set to try again over the weekend?”
“Will you?”
He snapped off a low growl. “One of us will send you an email when the old code’s back up. G’night.”
“She’s pissed?” Antonio asked as soon as Justin hung up.
“What do you think?” There had to be better ways to function. Mercy had a point; she didn’t put in late hours these days—one of the perks of being her own boss. Andrew, their other friend from their bumming-around-the-world days, probably never worked past five. What were Justin and Antonio doing?
Making it past this one hurdle. That was it. Justin needed to keep telling himself that.
Antonio settled deeper in his chair. “I’m here all night if that’s what it takes. Let’s wrap this up before we have eyes on us tomorrow.”
That was something to be grateful for—a reliable business partner and friend.
AS EMILY APPROACHED the apartment she shared with Cynthia, her limbs begged for her to simply sit. In the middle of the floor would do fine. Her mind was overloaded.
She couldn’t believe how poorly she behaved at dinner. Every other word that came out of her mouth was inappropriate. At the same time, she didn’t actually regret any of it, despite feeling like she should.
Bright light greeted her when she pushed inside. Cynthia’s brother, Paul, sat on the couch, watching something with explosions and violin music. He looked up the moment Emily walked into the room. “Hey.”
“Are you only here for the night, or is this a long-term arrangement?” She wasn’t in the mood to be social. She didn’t mind Paul in small doses. They’d known each other since they were kids. She didn’t have the brain power to carry on a polite conversation right now. Besides, Paul usually visited when he was out of work and didn’t have enough money to make rent with whoever had taken him in most recently. It always rubbed Emily the wrong way, regardless of how much she tried to be kind and look the other way for Cynthia’s sake.
“I’m helping Cynthia with some front-end work, and I’m between jobs. We’re going to spend a few days brainstorming in the same room.”
“Awesome.” Emily couldn’t find any enthusiasm. She noticed a single rose in a vase, sitting on the coffee table. “Is Cynthia seeing someone?”
“It’s for you.” He grabbed it and almost tripped over a table leg, closing the distance between them. He righted himself and handed her the gift.
She looked between it and him. “Thanks?” She didn’t know what to make of it.
“As a congratulations.”
“For...?”
“I heard you’re getting close to your goal of being able to see the world. I figured that was congratulation worthy.”
That seemed like an odd reason for a flower. “I am. I just have to make it through this contract.”
“You’re brilliant; you’ll make it happen.” He guided her to the couch and tugged her to sit next to him. “Cynthia told me she stood you up on Saturday. We should all go celebrate this weekend instead.”
Emily gave him a weak smile. “Sounds fantastic.”
“It’s a date. For tonight, you should take it easy. Sit and watch movies with me and unwind.”
That sounded like a good idea. If she could lose herself in explosions, she could forget about the muddled day she had. She settled in.
When Paul took the spot next to her, his arm brushing hers, surprise jolted through her. She shook it aside. Dinner had her caught on the edge between wanting more of Saturday night and knowing it wasn’t appropriate given her working conditions. There was no reason to take that out on Paul or misread a casual closeness.
The movie played on, but she couldn’t concentrate. Normally, the high-budget special effects and cheesy one-liners grabbed her attention and let her zone out. Tonight, something nagged at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t pin it down.
“Are you all right?” Paul asked.
“I'm fine.”
“You look tense.” He adjusted his position to sit sideways, one leg on the cushion and pressed against her thigh. He kn
eaded his fingers into her shoulders. “So many knots. Was this evening that bad?”
She forced herself to relax, despite the invisible spring coiling tighter inside with each new touch. “It was okay. My mind's all over the place. I'm good. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He took the hint and dropped his hands away, but kept his body shifted toward her.
It's because he's comfortable. It had nothing to do with her. The assurance didn't sit well. She ran their past through her mind, skipping along their every-day. Had he ever acted like this around her before? They shared things like hugs and high fives, but this didn’t feel the same. There was an expectation behind it that she didn’t care for, and couldn’t tell if she was misreading.
“Do you want to watch something else?” His question pulled her back to the conversation.
“No. This is good.”
“You seem distracted. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
Yes. Jeez. Stop asking already. The mental shout echoed in her head, and she tempered the abrupt response. She needed to learn to better compartmentalize if work was going to be like this for the next month. She nodded.
“Okay. I'll drop it.” He draped an arm around her shoulders.
She shot to her feet, confusion assaulting her. He looked at her, brow furrowed in confusion.
“On second thought, I'm super tired. Tonight must have hit me harder than I thought. I need some sleep.” She spat the sentence out in a single breath.
“No worries. I hope you feel better in the morning.”
She gave him a weak smile. “I'm sure I will.” She headed to her room and shut the door behind her with a soft snick. She’d made that entire situation far more awkward than it needed to be. Once she had a little sleep and a clear head, she'd be able to reconcile that just because she’d slept with her boss—unknowingly, but still—didn’t meant the rest of the world was hitting on her.
Chapter Seven
Antonio glanced at Emily and did a double-take at the tease of satin. She wore a green nightgown trimmed with lace. The brilliant emerald matched her eyes, and the black was a stunning contrast to her pale skin. “You two do this a lot?” she asked.
She stood next to him in the doorway, while Justin slept on one of his office couches. It was one of the few times Antonio had seen him recently without stress lining his face.
“We used to.” He couldn’t force his gaze to her face. Her breasts were pressed together and up, swelling with each breath, and her negligee barely covered her ass. As the blood rushed from his head and to his lower extremities, he struggled to find the brain power to speak. “I’d be happy if we never had to do it again, but it’s worth it, if things pay off.”
“What things?”
His mind caught up before his mouth ran too far, and he stopped himself from mentioning their side project. “You know what things.” He kept his tone light and playful. “Same you’re here for.”
“Then you should have let me help.” She shifted her weight, giving him a generous view of cleavage. A trail of freckles ran along her collarbone, ending in a V at her neckline, as if the sun had planted each one.
He needed to distract her from the subject. That would put them on an equal playing field. “You and him.” Antonio nodded at Justin’s sleeping form. “How was it?” A tiny portion of him knew the question was inappropriate, but it made as much sense as Emily standing in the middle of the office in lingerie. What the hell—he was going with it.
“Hmm.” She twisted her full lips, and his cock throbbed. “Are you asking how I was, or how he was? The answer to the latter—incredible. Everything you’ve dreamed of.”
He’d dreamed of a lot. “What if I wanted the answer to the former as well?”
“You’d have to ask Justin.”
Antonio dragged a finger along her jaw, to her chin, to lift her head. “I’d rather find out for myself.”
When he brushed his mouth over hers, she whimpered. He dragged his tongue along her bottom lip, before catching the fleshy swell between his teeth. She tasted like coffee, and cherries drizzled with cream.
She dug her fingers into his chest and kissed back, hard and hungry, opening for his tongue. He glided a palm down her back and over her ass, drawing her close until her stomach pressed against his erection.
Emily broke away enough to ask, “What if he wakes up?”
“He can join us.” That was a tantalizing thought. Antonio guided her back toward the desk. Hands on her hips, he lifted her to sit on the polished mahogany, and slid between her legs. Every time she shifted or gasped, his nerve endings hummed in anticipation.
She hooked her feet around him and draped her arms over his shoulders, interlocking her fingers at the base of his neck. “You must think I’m easy,” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.
“I have a feeling you’re quite picky, but I’m confident enough to think I’ll make the cut.”
She laughed. “Arrogant, you mean.”
“Tomato, pomodoro.” He worked an arm between them, lifted the edge of her gown, and slid under the elastic of her panties. His fingers glided easily between her folds, and she arched her back with a gasp, grinding into his touch. “You like that?” he asked.
“Like is an understatement.” She squirmed against him.
He wanted to tease and play, but his dick dug into his jeans, begging for release and warning he wouldn’t get a chance if he took his time. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t have the desire to puzzle it out. Every time Emily moaned, his cock twitched. He zeroed in on the swollen nub between her legs. Her breathing grew more frantic, and when she dug her fingers into his arms, her nails stung his skin. Christ. This was delicious.
He nipped her earlobe. “Come for me, passerotta.” He traced circles around her clit, tightening up and pressing harder in time with the thrust of her hips.
She tilted her head back, eyelids fluttering, as a delicious cry tore from her throat. He didn’t let up until she shuddered away from his touch. How had they not woken up Justin? Antonio didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed.
Emily rested her forehead on Antonio’s shoulder and gave a soft giggle. “We have company.” Her mouth moved against his neck.
Behind him, leather creaked, and he heard the distinct sound of a zipper sliding down.
“I want you inside me, while he watches,” Emily murmured as she fumbled with the button on Antonio’s jeans.
Pain spiked through his neck, and he grunted. Agony stabbed his crotch. His eyes flew open, and Justin’s office swam into view from a very different perspective than the one Antonio had seconds earlier. He sat up with a soft groan, stretching and rolling his neck, to get rid of the crick. The vivid dream wasn’t as easy to wipe from his mind. He was rock hard, to the point it ached. Dream-Emily’s voice lingered in his head, dancing with her taste and the heat of her soft skin.
He swung his legs around to plant his feet on the floor, and his erection roared in protest at being bent into such an awkward angle. He stood and adjusted himself.
He and Justin had finished up at about two in the morning. Rather than waste the time it would take to drive home, they each claimed a couch, to get a few hours of sleep. Late nights of coding, followed by a bit of tossing and turning, and a full day of work—it was a ridiculous thing to say at thirty, but he was getting too old for this shit.
The clock on the wall read five fifty. What an ungodly fucking hour. Justin was still asleep, brown hair brushing his eyes. Like in the dream, it was one of those rare moments when he looked peaceful. The scruff of a day’s worth of beard darkened his chin. Antonio itched to run his fingers over the coarse stubble.
He needed to shake this off now, before the work day started. He adjusted himself as best he could, and untucked his shirt when he couldn’t hide the bulge. Fortunately, no one would be in the office for a little while. There was a small gym on the main floor—a facility they built for employees. Until about six months ago, Antonio
used the equipment on a daily basis. These days, he was more likely to use the spare change of clothes he kept on site for mornings like this.
He grabbed his gym bag from his locker and picked the private shower stall at the far end of the room. When he stripped out of his clothes, his dick sprang loose, grateful to finally be free of its prison. He turned on the water, stepped underneath the spray, and leaned his forehead against cool tile as the icy needles biting into his back shifted to warm, then nearly scalding.
He wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked slowly. This was the only way he’d be able to focus today. In his mind, the intensity of the dream melted into a different, more familiar fantasy. One where Justin came looking for him. The shower door would creak open, and Justin would step into the small space, naked, his chest smooth and cock standing at attention.
The daydreams used to make it difficult for Antonio to look Justin in the eye. When he figured out diving into the images made it easier to get through the day, he surrendered.
He tightened his grip on his dick, increasing the pace as the pictures in his mind played out. Justin kissed him hard enough that teeth dug into lips. He yanked the short strands of Antonio’s hair and tugged. Antonio didn’t need more prompting. He kissed down the bare chest, dipping his tongue over curves of definition and pausing to tease and nip at a flat brown nipple. He mentally continued his journey, sinking to his knees as he went. Kissing Justin’s pelvis before finally reaching his destination. He licked over the head of Justin’s cock and was rewarded with a thrust of the hips, before he took the length into his mouth.
In his fantasy, Antonio sucked and licked. The taste of precum ghosted on his tongue. In real life, with the heat of the shower pounding into his back, he stroked his erection in time with the visions in his head. He lost track of time, as the daydream overlapped the real world. Justin tightened his grip on Antonio’s hair, thrusting hard and desperate. He growled when he climaxed, spurting hot, salty fluid against the back of Antonio’s throat.
Their Nerd (Two Plus One, #1) Page 6