Exposed

by Sierra Riley

  Shit, this guy wanted him, and the feeling was mutual. Briar was aware that Dayne was watching them, so he stuck to one handshake before dropping Gabriel’s hand. He circled around the desk and leaned on the side of it, shaking his head once when Dayne tried to rise to offer his chair.

  “Carry on,” he told Dayne.

  Dayne looked unnerved by his presence, which was slightly amusing. Even though Briar worked from the office whenever possible to keep everyone familiar with him and keep the tight ship running, he had a public image that intimidated a lot of guys.

  “So,” Dayne told Gabriel as he sank back into his chair and sprawled, knees apart and one heel braced on the ground, “you have fashion experience and admin experience… but not both at once. You haven’t been an exec assistant in a modeling agency before, specifically?”

  “According to my résumé, no.”

  Briar bit back a smile. Jesus, this guy had attitude.

  Dayne quickly glanced down his résumé again, then nodded. “Right. That was a rhetorical question.”

  “Sorry.” Gabriel didn’t sound sorry. “I won’t answer it, then.”

  A muscle twitched in Dayne’s jaw as he glanced up at Briar as if to say, See?

  When he’d heard about this guy from Dayne—a quick “perfect fit, great image, but too much attitude” on his way to the waiting room—Briar had stopped Dayne from sending him home.

  Briar had wanted to see this for himself.

  Briar didn’t need an assistant. Might as well have a pretty face hanging out, and a clever brain that could keep up with his repartee. And he liked to be entertained.

  God, he was glad he’d come. Dayne wasn’t his favorite employee. He was a bit too uptight for Briar’s liking. He didn’t like the close bonds that invariably formed in offices full of attractive gay men with a lot of testosterone and constant tight deadlines.

  He really didn’t like Briar dating the interns.

  Fine. This guy wasn’t an intern. Briar’s lips twitched into another smile as he nodded back at Dayne as if to approve.

  Dayne’s eyes widened slightly, and then he glanced back at Gabriel. “Right. Well, your criminal records check needs to process—”

  “I can wait,” Gabriel informed him.

  Dayne sat up a bit straighter, his chest swelling.

  Oh, here goes. Briar hid his smile expertly and folded his hands in his lap to watch the lecture.

  “It’s important in this office that we have a team attitude at all times. We provide business-to-business services, after all. We’re hiring out models to others’ projects. If something goes wrong on our end, we can destroy another company’s reputation.”

  Gabriel was listening, however much he fiddled with his fingers and examined the perfectly manicured nails.

  “So, in your dealings with other employees, clients, models… it’s critical you have the utmost professionalism while conveying the company image.”

  “The same sort of image as your front-desk secretary?” Gabriel spoke up, the question seemingly innocent enough.

  Holy shit, that was a loaded question.

  Samuel had been hired specifically because he was an excellent gatekeeper. You had to be able to play rough with him to get in to see anyone at short notice without an appointment.

  He had a generally surly attitude toward strangers, though he could switch into instant flattery to woo their existing models and clients.

  And Samuel got a little more… standoffish… toward the new models.

  It was good, because it kept clueless new walk-ins away. On the other hand, he might have thought Gabriel wanted to be a new face.

  Briar couldn’t blame Samuel for thinking that. Gabriel did have the right cheekbones, the right build, the right way of carrying himself…

  He’d be killer on the runway. So what the fuck was he doing here?

  “I don’t know if this will work—” Dayne started to speak up, but Briar interrupted him.

  “Could we have a minute, please?”

  That was directed at Dayne, not Gabriel.

  Dayne stared back at him for a minute, then slowly flipped the folder on his desk shut and rose to his feet. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” Briar waited patiently for a few moments, until Dayne brushed past him and out the door and the door clicked shut.

  Gabriel stayed where he was, still sprawling with his knees apart and a hand on the back of his head, tangled in his close-cropped blond hair and fidgeting with just a bit of the longer hair on top.

  This was going to be fun.

  Briar shifted around the edge of the desk until he sat right in front of Gabriel, perched on the edge with his legs apart and hands casually braced on the desk. It forced Gabriel to sit up straighter and look further up unless he wanted to stare Briar right in the crotch.

  Gabriel took his time dragging his gaze up Briar’s body until he looked him in the eye, which was more courtesy than he’d shown Dayne.

  Briar’s lips twitched into another amused smile. He had a crazy idea, and Dayne was gonna hate him for it.

  3

  Gabriel

  “I’ve never had a guy better-suited to the runway walk into the office and demand an admin job.”

  Gabriel’s face was carefully cool as he listened to Briar. The way Briar was watching him, his chin tilted up slightly in one more subtle display of dominance, told him Briar was hiding his real feelings—whatever they were—too. That was the essence of being professional, after all: saying one thing to your colleagues while thinking of creative ways to kill them.

  But Briar was saying he wasn’t suited for the office?

  “Why are you here and not on a runway somewhere?”

  Gabriel’s heart pounded. Briar wasn’t engaging with his bravado or indulging his ego. He was pulling some kind of sexy dominance stunt with his knees pushed apart, his cock barely hidden in his skinny trousers by the wallet in his pocket, but Gabriel appreciated that.

  Gabriel still resisted giving in. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say that didn’t make him sound hungry for a job. As much as he loved the industry and he loved chasing models, it was the money he needed more than hot fucks.

  But Briar’s eyes were on his own right now, piercing straight through every layer of cool, hip fashion expert and professional executive assistant Gabriel tried to project.

  Yes, Gabriel was egotistic, but to work at a place like this, the ego had to be dialed up to eleven. There wasn’t room for sweet, thoughtful guys, even if Gabriel were one. Everyone here had to be damn good, and know they were good.

  So Gabriel decided the moment he put together his fake résumé that he had to fake it ’till he made it.

  Gabe knew the moment he lost; his face must have flickered with a trace of the truth, because Briar leaned forward slightly.

  He swallowed hard. The taste of humility in his mouth soured his tongue, but he made himself speak through it anyway, his fingers stroking the wrinkles out of his jeans around his knees. “Got bills I need to pay.”

  “If you’re looking to get rich quick, you’ll be working for your paychecks around here,” Briar warned him. “There’s better-paying jobs a guy like you could do. You have the brains and the looks.”

  “I can think of exactly one other industry.” Gabriel’s lip curled. He’d considered escorting, sure. What good-looking guy his age with his income—zilch—hadn’t?

  But he wasn’t that badly-off. Yet.

  Briar looked amused as he raised a brow. “I was referring to modeling, you know. You could have walked into one of our open calls. Or one of the others, from a hundred other agencies around here. Why didn’t you?”

  Because fuck you, that’s why.

  That was the easy answer. Honestly?

  Because Jordan and I were supposed to go places together.

  Briar was watching him closely.

  Because he only told me I was pretty enough to model for him so he could take all my money to Asia.


  Gabe bit back the honest, stinging truth. He rolled the words around his mouth before swallowing them.

  Instead, he said, “People told me I could model before. I thought they were blowing smoke up my ass.”

  Briar seemed satisfied with the answer. He nodded slightly. “Well… it’s gonna piss Dayne off, but I’ll have you.”

  The way he said it sent heat crawling up Gabe’s body. The tingle of interest started in the base of his cock, deep in his body, then ran all the way up his spine like a warm hand pulling him closer for a wet kiss…

  Oh, fuck.

  Gabriel’s eyes dropped for a moment, down Briar’s firm chest to his stomach. The fabric was too loose, too thick to see whether he still had abs like he’d had in his 2013 Swish shoot for the premier gay fashion magazine. But Gabriel had looked at that photo enough to imagine them under his silky shirt. God, he wanted to touch it and feel it slipping through his fingers as he unbuttoned it…

  And then his crotch right there, just begging Gabriel to push his face into it and kiss his way up to Briar’s mouth, filthy and slow, to thank him for the job.

  Or the fuck.

  The way he’d phrased it, Gabriel wasn’t sure which he was offering. He’d take both.

  “When are you free to start?”

  Gabriel swallowed hard. “Now.”

  Briar slowly pushed himself up to his feet, not backing off. His knees brushed the insides of Gabriel’s as he stood in front of him, staring down at him.

  Gabriel’s eyes stayed fixed on his crotch for a few pointed moments before he leaned back again, rolling his head back for a lazy look up Briar’s body toward his face again. That was a bit more professional.

  Briar’s broad hand cupped his cheek. The warm, firm touch scraped along his beard shadow. Then, that broad thumb rested on his cheekbone.

  Gabriel swallowed again. Briar wasn’t pulling back, those bright eyes never looking away.

  “You’re interesting.”

  Thanks? I know? Gabriel was at a brief loss for words—just for a second or two. He hadn’t rehearsed this moment. He had no fucking idea what to do with it.

  Wait. He should accept it without thanks, like he knew how hot he was. He didn’t want to need Briar’s praise.

  But by the time he’d decided that, Briar pulled back, stepping around his chair and letting his hand trail up his bicep and over his shoulder. Briar stopped to lean over him and murmured, “See you tomorrow.”

  Then Briar’s hand slid off him and he was gone, leaving Gabriel breathless and almost frozen in his chair.

  He was half-hard, desperately thinking of the driest historical facts he could about the company to keep his mind distracted. That made a change from imagining sucking Briar’s cock and watching that sharp face crease with heated pleasure that he couldn’t hide.

  Then the door clicked shut again, a noise Gabriel was now familiar with. It wasn’t Briar’s spicy-sweet cologne he smelled, though, but Dayne’s fresh, cold-watery scent.

  When Dayne sat behind the desk, he pulled out a file folder labeled New Hires. His expression was pinched. God knew what Briar had told him in the brief ten or twenty seconds since he’d left the room.

  Ooh, Dayne was pissed. Gabriel resisted the urge to grin when Dayne slid a pen toward him, then started slapping papers in front of him to sign.

  Rent? Paid. Damn, I’m good.

  4

  Briar

  Every day at work felt about the same—meetings, reports, industry analysis, scrambling to touch base with designers for the next fashion weeks, dissecting new faces and making sure all the department heads were on track with Briar’s vision of the company…

  The only difference today was Gabriel. He’d been in yesterday for HR to have their turn with him, but he hadn’t sucked Dayne’s dick for the privilege of being hired, like a lot of new hires would.

  He’d walked into the office looking for all the world like he owned the place, his head high as he met the other assistants.

  That didn’t bode well for Gabriel. He was going to need their help to integrate. This was going to be a shit show, but it would be pretty funny to watch. Maybe he’d smarten up and learn to be gracious to those who’d already made it. Maybe not. If not, at least he provided eye candy.

  Briar leaned back in his office chair, his feet up on the desk as he clicked through the photos Markie Adam’s team had sent of their winter collection. In between photos, he glanced up, watching Gabriel set up his desk with stationery.

  Shit, this collection was ugly. Even models as hot as theirs couldn’t make it look elegant.

  They had to go the other direction, then.

  Briar opened up an email, then hummed and glanced up at the doorway. He was supposed to be training Gabriel. He should probably do that.

  “Gabe.”

  Gabriel pushed himself to his feet and swayed over toward him, resting one bony hip against the frame. “Mhmm?”

  He was dressed casually in a good print t-shirt—the kind Briar liked, not the hideous art prints or slogans that tried to whack casual onlookers over the head with their hints of the wearer’s personality. Over that, he’d layered a draping grey shawl sweater, and he wore dark grey jeans.

  Gabriel’s lips were pinker than yesterday. Was he wearing gloss? It was a good shade.

  “Come here. You’ve been set up to access my email account, right?”

  Gabriel had that tone nailed—the disinterested, yet knowledgeable one. Like he couldn’t be bothered to care, but he knew what he was doing. “I think so.”

  “Good. Come show me what you’d do with this email.”

  Briar watched Gabriel’s lips purse, and then Gabriel walked toward him. He rolled just out of the way, but not too far away, as Gabriel squeezed beside him and leaned down to read the screen.

  Briar snuck a glance at that gorgeous ass, then watched his face instead.

  Gabriel’s lips were pursed again, his brows drawing together as he paged through the photos, then read the email.

  “I’d place it gently in 1999, where denim jackets belong, and light it on fire.”

  Briar was caught off-guard by the short, sharp laugh that bubbled from his chest. Gabe’s opinion was refreshingly honest. “And then?”

  Gabe sighed, as if pressed, then cast his eyes around in thought. Briar could see the gears in his brain turning, though. Then, Gabriel decided, “Contact the appropriate model department and see what comp cards they have to send out. Maybe the new faces, too. Do we have an unusual faces department?”

  Briar smirked, folding his arms as he leaned back in his seat and peered up at Gabriel. “Why?”

  “Classic beauties won’t save this one. A weird face, maybe an androgynous look… make it artsy. Anything can be art. Thank God for them.”

  “And if I told you this was a friend of mine?” Briar said, his tone just slightly chastising.

  Gabriel seemed unmoved. “Then your friends have a keen eye on possible vintage trends, but I expected your friends to be a little more… contemporary.”

  “Mmm. Type up an email for me, then.”

  Gabriel worked his jaw back and forth for a moment, then bent over to type a few quick lines.

  No horrific typos, at least. His grammar was proper, and he was a quick typist. Briar could live with that.

  So far, this was the most useful thing he’d done in two days, and only when pressed directly, though.

  Just before Briar finished suggesting additions to the email—like emailing the right person, not the payroll manager with the same first name—the phone rang.

  Gabriel picked up for him with a casual, “Hello?”

  Briar waited.

  Gabriel straightened up, cutting his gaze sideways to Briar. Now he looked worried, his brow pinching. “You’d better.” He hung up and pushed away from the computer.

  Before Briar could ask, Julius was striding into the office. The new faces manager handled a lot of shit, but even he looked pissed beyond b
elief right now.

  This had to be good. Briar raised his eyebrows and stood up. “Hey, Jules. What happened?”

  “This fucking… Jesus.” Julius pushed the office door shut behind him, glaring at it when it softly clicked instead of slamming. Then, he looked at Briar and seemed to notice Gabriel.

  He took a breath and let it out.

  “The test shoot with the guy from San Diego went south.”

  “Did he walk out?” It wasn’t unusual, but it was the ultimate diva move. Incredibly ballsy for a new face, especially one Briar hadn’t been sold on the decision to test out anyway.

  “Yep.”

  “Waste of a good photographer. Who’s it today?”

  “Hayes.”

  Briar whistled lowly. Hayes shot primarily black and white images. He had a stellar eye for them. Some models just didn’t look good in full color—Hayes could save them.

  And some guys who looked great in color looked just as stunning in black and white. It was a rare face that couldn’t benefit from a touch of classic aesthetic.

  “He still here?”

  “Yeah, and Vince is pissed now. He wants someone else in our ex-new face’s place.”

  New York City, Paris, Milan, London… all of the big cities had their own fashion weeks, and it was about to be harvest day for modeling agencies. Every designer needed bodies to put their clothes onto, and pretty faces that could pout at a camera.

  It took time to train the new hires, though, and it always took a few shots before they knew whether a guy would be great on a runway or better suited to advertising or some other department.

  Briar cut a sideways glance at Gabriel, who was closely watching them. His face betrayed an interest that he quickly hid behind that same detached expression when he noticed Briar looking at him.

  He didn’t have time for this shit. He had a meeting in ten minutes with Markie’s team, and fuck knows what he was going to tell them. Probably something like Gabriel had told him, actually.

  “Give this guy a try.” Briar jerked a thumb carelessly at Gabriel. “He’s not doing anything I can’t.”