Friday Night Jamie

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Friday Night Jamie Page 4

by Bren Christopher


  “Good, I’ll leave it to the two of you to get into the details. Oh, and we need to reduce your workload a bit. Want to make sure you’re successful with the new account, eh? Want to make sure Lawrence Industries is happy with our service. We’re taking the Tapman account and maybe one or two others and redistributing them to some of your coworkers, so you have more time for the Lawrence account.”

  I protested, “That’s not necessary, sir. I can handle my other accounts as well as the new one. Anyway, it’s just until Jackson comes back, isn’t it? I can cover for him until he gets over the flu. Isn’t that what he’s got?”

  Eckland said, “I’m afraid it’s a little more serious than that, James. He might be out for quite a while. I admire your willingness to put in the extra work, but I’ve already made arrangements for the accounts to be distributed to others.”

  Brooks stood up then clapped me on the arm. “Do a good job with this account, son, and you’ll be looking at a nice bonus come the end of the year. In the meantime, I’m holding a little get-together at my house on Friday night. Why don’t you come along? Celebrate the new assignment?”

  I swallowed, nervous at the thought of going to the boss’s house but certainly not about to say no. “Thank you, sir. That would be great.”

  “Don’t worry; it won’t be all us old fuddy-duddy folks. My nephew Keith will be there with some of his young friends. I’m sure you’ll have fun with them.”

  That did nothing to allay my nervousness. Quite the opposite. But I just nodded.

  He stood and said, “I’ll let Eckland here give you an overview of the new account, get you set up with the files. See you Friday, Morgan.”

  He left, and Eckland started to give me a quick briefing on the Lawrence Industries account.

  “James? Something bothering you, son?”

  I flushed, realizing I had only half been paying attention. “Sorry, sir. It’s just—well, you have a lot more experience than I do. Have you ever heard of a computer glitch causing the kind of anomaly we saw in the Tapman account?”

  He sat back, looking at me intently. “What are you saying, James? You think it was deliberate?”

  “I don’t know. But if it wasn’t my error and if it wasn’t a computer glitch, whatever that really means, then that only leaves…”

  Eckland raised an eyebrow. “You think something is going on here at the firm that shouldn’t be?”

  “No, no,” I said hastily. I certainly didn’t intend to accuse anyone of fraud on such flimsy evidence. “It could have happened before the account got to us, or we might have had a breach in security. It just seems there should be more of an investigation.”

  “There isn’t much to investigate, is there? It hasn’t happened again, and that makes it almost impossible to track down.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’ll make a few phone calls myself to see if anyone has seen anything like this in any of the other accounts. And instead of assigning the Tapman account to another junior CPA, I’ll give it to Sanderson. How does that sound? I’ll fill him in on what you saw, and he can keep an eye on things.”

  I nodded, relieved. A senior accountant, Sanderson had even done some consulting work for the SEC. He would know what to look for. “That would be great, thank you. Sorry to be a pain.”

  “Not at all. Your attention to detail is one of your strengths, James. Just be sure you’re as meticulous with the new account, and everything will be fine.”

  * * *

  I arrived at the Brookses’ home that Friday evening, feeling nervous but excited. They lived in a large, beautiful condo on Fifth Avenue overlooking Central Park. The rooms were floored with a gorgeous hardwood and filled with antique furniture and expensive artwork. I knew a lot of people from work, mostly senior accountants and managers. The occasion was a fund-raiser for one of Samantha Brooks’s favorite charities, a battered women’s shelter. Ethan Brooks’s wife sat on the boards of several charitable organizations and often held parties at her house for them, as much for the company as for the charities, from what I had heard. A large crystal bowl sat on an oak table in the foyer. Guests dropped in checks or cash as they entered the townhouse. I thought it a tasteful way to collect the donations, keeping things anonymous for those of us who couldn’t donate nearly as much as some of the people there.

  There was a buffet on the spacious, beautifully landscaped terrace, and violinists strolling around the area. I limited myself to wine from the open bar, trying to pace myself. I knew my propensity for drinking too fast when I was nervous. As the night wore on, I relaxed. The wine helped, and Eckland stood by the buffet. I talked to him for a while and then circulated, saying hello to some others I knew.

  Just as I started to move toward the buffet, I spotted Keith standing off to the side, talking to a younger group. I knew they weren’t coworkers. Maybe clients or personal friends of his.

  When he saw me, he waved me over. I walked casually to the group, trying not to show the way my heart jumped when all he did was look at me. He was standing with a tall, lovely, red-haired woman named Lydia and several others who seemed to have been heavily into the bar, as their attention wandered, and they smelled strongly of whiskey. Lydia looked bored, but they were all polite enough as Keith introduced me.

  “Have you eaten anything yet, James? Or is it Jamie? That’s what they call you, isn’t it?” He turned the full force of that charming smile on me, the first time he had ever done that, and I felt myself flush a little. Maybe he would chalk it up to the wine I still carried.

  I nodded. “Yes, I go by Jamie.” I cleared my throat. “I was just headed to the buffet. Did you want anything?”

  “I’ll come with you.” He put his hand casually on my arm, as if to lead me over to the table. I caught the angry look on Lydia’s face, and I was surprised too, but I wasn’t about to pull away.

  We got a few items from the buffet and sat at a small patio table. Nervously, I picked at my food.

  “Congratulations on getting the Lawrence Industries account,” he said. “You must have worked hard for it.”

  “I appreciate your uncle and Eckland giving me the chance. I’ll try not to screw it up.”

  He laughed. “You’d better not. It took a lot of hours on the golf course to steal that account away from Stetson.”

  “Well, everyone says you’re the best at getting new accounts and making the clients happy.” I speared a strawberry with my fork and ate it slowly.

  “Is that what they say?” His gaze was on my mouth.

  “Um-hm,” I said, licking my fork. His lips parted a little. Oh yeah, he wanted me. Suddenly I felt much better, more relaxed. Just knowing he was interested gave me a little bit of an edge.

  We finished eating, chatted some more about work, and Keith got me another glass of wine. He offered to show me around the house. The paintings were mostly impressionistic landscapes, soft and colorful. The sculptures varied from modern to Greco-Roman, and glass display cases held the smaller pieces.

  By this time I’d grown a little buzzed as I hadn’t eaten much, and his hand on my arm as he led me around felt really good. He seemed to take any opportunity to touch me, resting his hand on my back or my shoulder as I leaned over to peer into the display cases. Once I even caught him staring at my ass as I bent over. He just raised his eyes and gave me that grin. I looked away, knowing my face had turned red.

  We made our way into a study to view the paintings in that room. They were more masculine, hunting and boating scenes, and I thought this must be Ethan Brooks’s home office.

  Keith had his hand on my arm again, and he moved closer, trapping me between his body and the wall. He rested his hands lightly around my waist and leaned forward, speaking softly into my ear. “I like the way you blush when you know I’m looking at you. It’s adorable.”

  “Adorable? I am not adorable,” I said, or at least that’s what I started to say, when his mouth caught mine for a fast, hard kiss. His long, lean body
pressed all the way from head to toe, thigh pushing between my legs to brush against me. I gasped as he made contact with my growing erection and his hands slid down from my waist to cup my butt cheeks.

  My breath came hard and fast as his hands wandered over me, rubbing and stroking, and I bit my lip to keep back a moan.

  “I’ve wanted to feel this for a while now. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I think you can tell I’m not too upset,” I said, looking down at the bulge in the front of my pants.

  He smiled. “No, I guess not.”

  He pushed closer, grinding against me as he took my hand and moved it down to press my fingers against his hard length. Leaning back against the desk, he pulled me toward him and whispered, “You’ve got me so hot. I need you to use that sweet mouth on me. Come on, please.”

  “Now?” I hesitated. “Keith, I don’t think I can do it here.”

  He looked disappointed and a bit annoyed. “I thought you wanted to.”

  “I do… Look, I know this is your uncle’s house and maybe you’re comfortable here, but this is my boss’s house, and I’m not.” I stroked my hands down his arms and moved closer. “Let’s go somewhere, okay? Your place or my place. Anywhere with a little privacy.”

  He pulled me in, nuzzling my neck. It felt nice, although his skin and his lips felt cool, not warm and comforting like Matt’s. Then I felt a little annoyed at myself. Why think of Matt now? Anyone would agree that Keith made a more suitable match. We shared the same general profession and the same set of acquaintances. Certainly I had more in common with him than with some stranger I had picked up in a bar. Besides, I had carried my crush on Keith for a lot longer than I had known Matt.

  Still, I looked forward to running into Matt at the club again. For some reason, I had the urge to tell him all about the party and about Keith hitting on me. I thought he would be happy for me, and I had found him so easy to talk to the last time I had seen him.

  Keith drew back and said, “I can’t leave yet; there are important clients here that I’m supposed to be entertaining. But I’m taking some of the younger ones out as soon as we can blow this party. Why don’t you come along?”

  I hesitated, doubtful. “I don’t know them. Are you sure they won’t mind?”

  “Hell no, they won’t mind. They just like to party, and the more the merrier. Come on. We’ll go out for a little while. Then we’ll head back to my place. What do you say?”

  He turned on that charming smile, and just like that, I had my date with my dream man.

  As I tried to return that smile, my heart suddenly raced in an unanticipated combination of excitement and fear. A little dismayed at my own reaction, I realized it had been so much easier to crush on Keith from a distance, knowing that he would never be interested in me. Now…now I had my chance, and it made my chest tighten in anxiety. What if he decided I wasn’t worth the trouble? Swallowing hard, I tried frantically to think of some excuse to call it off, and then cursed myself for a coward. If I ever wanted anything more than meaningless encounters in a back alley, I had to take the risk.

  We left the party soon afterward, then stopped by his condo briefly to have a drink and meet up with the clients he had promised to take out so we could all ride in one car. He lived in a beautiful place on one of the top floors of a newly renovated building not far from his uncle’s home on Fifth Avenue. The large plate-glass windows gave a stunning view of the city. The leather sofa and contemporary paintings made the place feel cool and masculine.

  To my unpleasant surprise, Lydia met us there too. I wondered if she was a client. She seemed more like a personal friend. She had taken off the jacket she had worn at the party and wore a gorgeous, barely there gold lamé dress. I recognized a couple of other guys from Keith’s little group at the party. They had already been into his bourbon.

  Lydia gave me that same angry look she had given me earlier. But Keith led me over to the little bar away from the others, then put his arms around me and kissed me hard.

  I felt a little uneasy with the others there even though they were paying no attention to us at all. Except for Lydia, who was still glaring. “Are you sure it’s okay? They’re clients, aren’t they? Should we be…you know…in front of them?”

  He laughed at that. “God, aren’t you cute. Baby, they don’t care. Lydia’s not a client, anyway. Those two are sons of a couple of rich families, but they’re always running out of allowance. Their folks just want us to keep them happy. Believe me—those guys don’t care at all what we do, as long as we’re paying.”

  “But Lydia? She doesn’t seem to like me much. You’re not dating her, are you? Or you used to date?”

  “Lydia’s a close friend, but we’re not committed or anything. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. She likes to party, and after a while, she’ll party with anybody.”

  I didn’t have a chance to ask exactly what he meant by that as he moved behind the bar and started playing bartender for me and his friends.

  We went to a couple of different clubs, not places I had been before but all gay-friendly. The guys stayed at the bar, quietly getting drunk. Lydia did like to dance, and she gradually loosened up as the night went on, and the three of us danced in a group. After a while, she didn’t even seem to mind when Keith put his arms around me when we all danced together.

  Then during one slow song, Keith switched to put his arms around her and slide his hands up and down her back, nuzzling her neck. I stopped dancing and started to walk off. I figured they had a relationship at one time, but I had thought she was just a friend now. Keith reached out and snagged my arm. “Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just having fun. Lydia likes you too. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

  Lydia leaned in close, then smiled and put her hands on my shoulders, stroking. “Sure, he’s cute. Maybe we can all have a little party later on.”

  I said, “Um, no offense, Lydia. You are one gorgeous woman, but I’m not into threesomes.” I looked at Keith. “Maybe I’d better go.”

  He put his arms around me again. “Stay. One more dance, okay? Just you and me.”

  After that, he pretty much ignored Lydia. She didn’t seem to mind too much, just headed for the bathroom again. When she came back, she was sniffing and rubbing her nose. I finally realized the reason for the improvement in her mood.

  When she went to the bar, Keith and I started a slow dance. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me close.

  I asked him, “Is Lydia all right? She’s been to the bathroom a lot. She’s not going to OD on us, is she?”

  He laughed. “No, she’s okay. I’ve seen her do a lot more than what she’s doing tonight and still function.” His hands wandered to my butt, then up my back and into my hair. He kissed me on the neck. “How about you, sweetheart. You want something? I’ve got a lot of stuff that will make you happy and keep you going all night long.”

  I was a little disturbed; I may be a weekend drinker, but I don’t touch drugs. I had seen the effects, up close and personal, and I knew I didn’t want that kind of chaos in my life. He must have seen my reaction on my face, because he added, “I don’t use it much, myself. It’s for the clients. Some of the younger ones like to party, and you know me. I’ll do whatever it takes to make the clients happy. Just thought I would offer.”

  He brushed his lips up my neck until he got to my mouth and gave me a fast kiss. He murmured, “You ready to head back to my place? Please? Come home with me.”

  He had his hand on my arm, pulling me off the dance floor before I even had a chance to answer. I guess he assumed a yes, and I guess he was right. A bit worried about him driving the racy little convertible, I asked about getting a cab, but he said he felt fine, and in truth, I hadn’t seen him drink much. Not nearly as much as I had.

  It seemed to me the car had a lot more room on the way back than on the way there, and I finally remembered. “Hey, what about Lydia and the guys? How are they going to get home?”

  He shrugged. “They’
ll manage. Get a cab or something.”

  “Lydia was pretty wasted. You think she’ll be okay?”

  “I didn’t realize you were such a mother hen.” He looked irritated for a moment, then seemed to force that charming smile. “Forget about them. Just think about all the things I’m going to do to you when I get you home.” He put his hand on my thigh.

  I looked around at the expensive paintings and the contemporary furniture in his condo and wondered what I was doing there. It seemed hard to believe Keith could actually want anything more from me than a single night. He came up behind me, and his arms went around my waist, hands sliding up under my shirt. When he felt the nipple ring, he said, “Oh, I need to see that,” and he pulled my shirt up and off before I knew what was happening. He stroked my chest, fingers playing with the ring and tweaking my nipples. The sensation went straight to my cock, and I put my hands in his fine blond hair, pulling him close to grind against him, and then reaching around to cup his ass. He grabbed my hands and pushed me to the couch, then landed on top of me and pinned my wrists above my head.

  He kissed me again, quick and hard, so different than the long, slow kiss that I remembered from my first meeting with Matt. That hot kiss had been seared onto my lips, and I still thought about it at the most inappropriate moments. Such as now.

  A light bite pulled me firmly back to the present. Keith ran his tongue around my lips, nipping and licking. “Your mouth makes me so hot. I’ve been thinking about it wrapped around my dick all night.”

  His thigh moved up between my legs and pressed hard, and I sucked in a quick breath, my hips involuntarily pushing up against him, grinding.

  He whispered, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’ll bet you’re good at it too.” He let go of my wrists, reached down, and unzipped his pants.

 

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