Hop couldn’t help but smile. “Get your own life, ho.”
She pouted dramatically. “Pretty please.”
Hop dug through the box of outdated threads in the corner. “If I told you, your head might explode.”
“Tease.”
He studied a worn comic-book hero T-shirt and held it to his chest to check the size. Not bad. It’d be better if he could get hold of a pair of scissors to adjust the neckline, and maybe some safety pins.
“He forced me to come six times.” From the corner of his eyes he saw her mouth drop open.
It was a minute before she spoke. “Forced you?”
“By the end, I was begging to sleep.” He closed his eyes, remembering. “It hurt so good though.”
When he looked over his shoulders, Andrea’s cheeks were bright red.
“Did I break you?”
She shook her head. “No, but I kind of want to kill you and take over your life.”
“Evil Bitch.” He smiled, pulling off his shirt to change into the new one. There was nothing he could do about his jeans or heels, but at least he didn’t look as hoochy as before.
Andrea hopped off the table, lightly punched his shoulder, and crossed to the door. “If you weren’t so nice, I’d hate you.”
“I’m skipping lunch today.”
She nodded as if she’d expected it. “Might want to stash a change of clothes here for next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
Her look was shrewd. “A guy who puts that dreamy look on your face deserves more than one night. If you don’t take advantage I honestly will take your place.”
Her hollow threat scratched at sensitivities Hop wasn’t ready to examine and revealed lies he’d been telling himself all morning. There was no way last night was a one-and-done, for either of them.
Hop was still figuring out exactly how he felt about that.
And why it made him so nervous.
* * *
Hop was digging through his closet during his lunch break when the first text came. Distracted with outfit possibilities, it didn’t sink in at first.
He needed to decide what he was going to wear and get back to work. And he’d found an old backpack to fill with an emergency ensemble. No matter how slutty it made him feel, he couldn’t deny Andrea’s practicality.
He tossed a pair of jeans he’d used to practice stitching techniques in the bag. Next he chose a top from his favorite secondhand shop. The fabric was soft and worn, but not old. He’d cut the sleeves and added decals for a punk look. He’d loved it at the time, but it didn’t suit his style anymore.
Another buzz came as he was choosing accessories. He figured it was either Andrea telling him to hurry up or Jae reminding him about rehearsal. Neither was important enough to tear him away from his task. But when another text came in a minute later, Hop was sufficiently curious to stop in the middle of pulling on a clean pair of jeans to pick up his phone.
Have you eaten lunch?
Inexplicably, Rafe’s innocent question made him nervous. There wasn’t anything odd about the text besides the unexpectedness of it, but Hop was transported to the foyer of Rafe’s apartment. The memory of Rafe’s rules washed over him and he cursed internally before reading the second message.
Rule 2. Have you forgotten already?
He could hear Rafe’s disapproval and resented his own immediate remorse. With dread, he scrolled to the final text.
Call me.
He dialed Rafe’s number and sat on his bed, chewing his nail.
“Sorry,” Hop blurted, as soon as the call connected. “I didn’t know it was you and I was busy.”
Rafe was silent. Hop’s knee bounced uncontrollably.
“How can you make sure that never happens again?” He sounded calm and patient with an undercurrent of delicious menace.
“Um...” Hop racked his brain. “I could give you a special ringtone.”
“Good. Do that and call me back.” He hung up without waiting for Hop’s reply.
Hop blinked at his phone for a good second before doing what Rafe had ordered. Without thinking much about it because the need to call Rafe back was at the forefront of his mind, he chose “Worship” by Years & Years. When he was finished, he pressed the call button.
His knees still bounced.
“Done?”
“Yes, sir.”
Rafe hummed in approval. “Now, did you eat lunch?”
It was so tempting to brush the question off. It was on the tip of his tongue to say he’d grabbed a sandwich, but he hadn’t. “Not yet. I had to come home to change. I’ll pick something up on the way back to work.”
“How much time do you have?”
Hop looked at the clock on his dresser. Shit, he was going to be late. “Twenty minutes.”
“You won’t have time.”
“It’s okay. I only work until two today.”
“Hop.” Rafe’s voice was full of censure.
“There’s a vending machine at work, I’ll grab something.”
“No. I’ll take care of it this time. Are you finished changing?”
Picking at the frayed denim around his knees, he said, “Not quite.”
Rafe’s tone deepened. “What are you wearing?”
Hop closed his eyes as the sound of Rafe’s gravelly voice rolled over him. “A pair of baby pink skinny jeans around my knees and rainbow mesh briefs.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I’m in my bedroom. Mom’s at work.”
“Jerk off. You have five minutes. Don’t come.”
Hand squeezing his phone, Hop bit back a moan. He’d had phone sex before but this felt different. It wasn’t about getting off, it was about submission. Rafe was making him prove himself even from a distance.
“Let me hear you, pet. I want you hard and aching.”
Mission accomplished. “Yes, sir.” He snaked a hand under his shorts and stroked his cock. He wasn’t exactly rushing to come after last night. His balls were wrung dry like raisins. And yet, when Rafe commanded him, his cock responded like Pavlov’s fucking dog.
“Tell me what you’re doing, paint me a picture so detailed it’s like I’m there.”
His voice shook as he complied. “I’m holding the phone with my left hand. My right is in my shorts, stroking my cock. I’m sitting on my bed. My legs are spread.”
Rafe’s answering groan sent a strange possessive thrill through Hop so acute it made him gasp. “Imagine me fucking you like you get fucked in your nastiest dreams.”
“Yesss,” Hop said in a long hiss. His fingers tightened on his cock. His strokes sped up and he lifted his hips to fuck his own hand, but it wasn’t his own pleasure he sought. What he desired was Rafe’s. The phone pressed hard into his ear, Hop’s attention was on the soft sounds coming through the speaker.
He wished he could ask if Rafe was jerking off too, but if Rafe had wanted him to know, he would. Five minutes wasn’t a long time, especially when you were so consumed you lost all sense of where you were and why.
When Rafe said, “Time’s up,” it took Hop several seconds to come back to reality.
He stared at his swollen cock disconcertingly. “Please.”
“Once an hour for the rest of the day, you will rub yourself for exactly one minute, but don’t you dare come.”
His fingers curled into the comforter. “At work?”
“Yes, go to the bathroom.”
Hop hesitated.
“Problem?” Rafe didn’t sound challenging or arrogant. In fact, his tone was wholly inquisitive as if he honestly wondered what Hop was thinking.
That hint of empathy settled Hop. It made him want to give Rafe everything he had just to hear the validation in his voice. “No, sir. I’ll do as you ask.”
Silence reached through the line like long fingers and stroked Hop’s hair. “Get dressed, pet. You’ll be late.”
“Yes, sir.” They hung up and Hop quickly pulled his jeans over his boner, and then slipped on an oversize blue sweater. He zipped up both his just-in-case bag and his rehearsal bag, stepped into his velvet pumps and grabbed his keys.
He was out the door in two minutes flat and didn’t realize he was smiling until he caught his reflection in the shiny elevator doors.
* * *
“So we’ve secured the vendors?” Rafe asked Mark, fighting a yawn.
“All but one—they’re concerned about the workload since they’re a small business.”
“How can we help?”
“I suggested splitting the contract between two companies but that also splits the profits. The owner is considering hiring more workers specifically for our event. She’s going to work up her costs and get back to me this week.”
“Good. What about—” Rafe’s phone buzzed, interrupting him. He glanced at the screen. The incoming message was from the deli he’d called earlier to say his order had been delivered. A smile curled his lips as he imagined Hop struggling with gratitude and indignation when he received the huge turkey Rueben and salad.
A second later, another text popped up.
Do you think I’m a hippo?
Rafe actually laughed out loud, but it was cut off short when Mark cleared his throat.
“Sorry, just...” He waved his phone.
Mark held up his hands. “Go ahead.”
Rafe typed. Send me a picture.
He didn’t have to wait long. A fuzzy image of Hop holding the sandwich with a scowl popped up. The accompanying text read: It’s as big as my head.
He was familiar with the giant portions at this particular deli, it was one of the reasons he liked it so much.
Eat at least half.
Another picture came a second later, Hop with his tongue sticking out.
“Brat.” Rafe chuckled, quickly typing his reply.
Keep showing me your tongue and I’ll give you something to do with it.
Hop’s answer sent heat to Rafe’s balls.
Yes, sir.
Send another picture when you’re finished.
Yes, sir.
Rafe set his phone aside and tried to remember what he’d been asking before the disruption. He looked up to find Mark studying him with wonder.
“What?”
“You seeing someone, boss?”
Rafe looked away and shuffled the papers on his desk. “I don’t date.” The words tasted like chalk on his tongue and the sentiment was hollow.
“Not for as long as I’ve known you.”
“So?”
“So why not?”
“You know why.”
“Because work is your mistress?”
Rafe’s single laugh was forced and cold. “That too.”
“Well, whoever that was on the phone, I like them.”
Rafe shot a questioning look at his GM. “You don’t even know who it was.”
Mark shrugged. “They made you laugh. Can’t say I’ve ever heard that before.”
“I’ve laughed.”
“Have you? I can’t remember a single time.”
Rafe scowled at nothing in particular. “Let’s get back to work. Vendors are settled for now, what about PR?”
“I’ve got a handful of designers working up samples. We’ll get the proofs next week.”
“Okay, we’re on track. Anything happening in day to day I need to worry about?”
“Megan is pregnant, she’ll be taking maternity leave soon, but she’s contacted a few replacements. I’ll be auditioning them this weekend.”
“Great, then we’re done.”
“With business.”
Rafe rocked back in his chair, hands entwined on his stomach. “What does that mean?”
“You’ve been working too hard. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes and you’ve been yawning all morning.”
True, but it wasn’t because he’d been working. Thing is, he couldn’t tell Mark why he was exhausted unless he wanted to invite more questions about his dating habits. Which, he did not. “I’m not working any more or less than usual.”
“When this contract is finally signed, you need to take a vacation.”
That would never happen. “Sure.”
Mark crossed to the door. “Maybe take a nap?”
Rafe threw a pencil at him. “Fuck off.”
Mark left laughing. Rafe rubbed his eyes. Hell, he really could use a nap. His phone buzzed and he picked it up, smiling at the image of less than half of the Ruben and an empty salad bowl.
Thank you, sir.
And just like that, Rafe’s fatigue fled.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As ordered, Hop found an excuse to escape into the bathroom once an hour. By closing time, he had a permanent hard-on. The constant check-ins from Rafe didn’t help. It was a testament to Hop’s creativity how well he’d hid his arousal from his coworkers. But his friends weren’t as oblivious and his dance clothes were more revealing. No way would he be able to maintain his assigned task during rehearsal.
But Rafe hadn’t told him he could stop yet.
As he rode the bus from the shop to the Hinley Dance Center, he debated his options. One, he could text Rafe and beg for a reprieve. Two, he could deal with the order any way possible. Three, he could ignore it.
He shook his head. No, he’d never get away with that—didn’t want to. Texting seemed weak somehow and he couldn’t very well talk about it on a crowded bus, could he?
The sun glinted off the freshly fallen snow, so bright even the dingy bus windows didn’t dull the shine. Hop adjusted his sunglasses. The bus was crowded and he was sitting with a sweet old lady who smelled like curry. She wore a beautiful turquoise wrap that swept over her shoulder. It made him wish he had his sketchbook.
Despite the freezing temperature, he got off two stops early and dialed Rafe.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to rehearsal?”
God, the guy knew everything. Why did that turn him on so much? Hop adjusted his pants as he walked. “I am.”
“I assume you’re about to ask for mercy.”
“Yes.”
“How close did you get to coming?”
“I almost shot the last time, but I pinched myself hard and stopped.”
“Thank you.”
Hop was so taken aback, he stopped midstride. “Uh...”
“I’ll give you a choice, since you’ve been so good today.”
“Okay.”
“You can stop, but in exchange you cannot touch yourself again until I tell you to, which could be days.”
“There’s a second option?” ’Cause that one sucked.
“Or you’ll masturbate via webcam with me tonight.”
“That’s an easy choice.”
“You think so?”
“An orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.”
“Remember, your mother will be home and you’ll have to obey my every word.”
“What will you make me do?”
“You’ll have to wait to find out.”
They hung up as Hop reached the dance center. Z and Tam were the only ones in the room when he arrived. Hop pulled off his scarf and sat on one of the metal folding chairs against the wall with a huff.
“Rough day?” Tam asked.
“Something like that.”
“Suck it up, buttercup.” Z tossed him an air kiss.
“Can we help?” Tam sat next to him as Hop removed his coat and gloves.
“Nah, just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
Z looked over his shoulder at him. “I
thought you went straight home last night.”
Hop avoided eye contact by digging in his bag. “I did.”
“So if it wasn’t a dick donor, what kept you up?”
“I don’t know,” Hop mumbled. He didn’t have the brain power to come up with a reasonable lie.
Z’s hum was full of suspicion, but luckily he let it go when Jae entered.
“Did you see Lirim this weekend?” Jae asked.
Fuck, Hop had completely forgotten that they’d gone Upstate on Saturday to visit the absent group member in rehab.
“We did,” Tam said, with haunted eyes.
“Not good?” Hop asked.
Z and Tam looked at each other. “He’ll get through it.” Z sounded confident but looked worried.
“Maybe next time we can all go.”
Tam smiled at Jae. “Maybe.”
A few minutes later Ansel entered, cursing the cold and stomping snow off his heels. By then, Hop had changed and was tying up his hair.
“Shitfuckdamn,” Ansel said. “I’m gonna kill that bitch.”
“Who?”
“Mother Nature.”
They all laughed.
“Let’s get started, I only booked the room until five.” Tam went to the stereo in the corner. “I’ve got a rough idea for the presentation. Driver helped me mix the music. I want your opinions.”
Hop and the others settled against the mirrored wall while Tam took his mark in the center of the floor. What came next was a shameless display of Tam’s brilliance. Hop was still catching his breath when the music stopped and the rest of them applauded.
Tam was such an amazingly creative choreographer, his talent astounded Hop. How could such a tiny person have so much awesome inside?
If Hop could have one-tenth of Tam’s genius, he’d be happy.
But he didn’t. What he did have, however, was determination. Even if it took him three times as many rehearsals as the others, he would nail this routine. He’d do whatever it took to show his friends that he could keep up with them.
Less than a minute later, after notes and comments, Tam was running them through the choreography count by count.
* * *
Worn out from a day of running on little sleep and physically exhausted from rehearsal, Hop entered the apartment he shared with his mother and dropped into the lumpy couch. His bags landed next to his feet on the floor with a thump.
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