by Anna Zabo
Breath left him. His office, files in hand. Justin sat on his heels, anxiety overtaking relaxation and arousal.
“Sorry. Lost in thought.”
Justin pressed his lips together and a flicker of sadness lit in his eyes. All Eli wanted to do was cup Justin’s cheek and stroke his frown away. Not for me. Don’t worry about me.
He gripped the file tighter. “Thank you for this.”
A flush rose in Justin. “It’s nothing.”
It was everything. Eli handed the last stack. “This one’s easy.” He kicked the nearest cabinet with his good leg.
Justin shuffled sideways, opened the cabinet, and slid the file home. Eli tried not to notice the way Justin’s arms trembled when he pushed the cabinet shut.
Justin clasped his hands together at the small of his back. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Eli?”
That stance spoke of training. Shit. Not what Eli needed to know. “No, thank you. I should return you to Sam.”
“In one piece.” He sounded disappointed.
Eli couldn’t help the smile. “This time.”
Justin parted his lips and leaned forward. Every inch of Eli’s skin crackled with energy. All he needed to do was lean down and if Justin sat up, they might meet lip to lip. From Justin’s wide eyes, flush skin and thrumming pulse, he knew it, too. They hung there until they both moved away.
Justin climbed to his feet, dick thick in his jeans. “If you need me to file anything else . . .”
“I’ll let you know.” Eli nodded toward the door. “Sam’s waiting.”
That seemed to wake Justin out of a haze, out of the subspace.
“Right.” He licked his lips and headed for the door.
“Justin?”
Hope blazoned across Justin’s body. “Yes?”
“Would you mind closing the door? I have a call I need to make.”
His expression crumpled. “Sure.”
To see Justin deflate like that hurt down to Eli’s bones. Had he been that unforgiving this week? “I’ll open it when I’m done. I promise.” Keeping it closed had been a mistake. Whatever happened now, he wanted Justin as a friend, even with the snark and the eyeliner.
“Good. I mean—”
Eli pointed at the door. “Sam. Go.”
Justin grinned. “Yes, Eli.” He left, closing Eli’s door behind him.
God. Eli pressed his hand against the length of his cock and stroked. Wasn’t the first time Justin had left him hard. Probably wouldn’t be the last—but he needed another outlet, one that wasn’t so complicated and full of pitfalls.
You could ask him out. For a moment, he even considered it, but no.
You may find relationships hard, his therapist had said. Both true and false. The affection he had for Sam and especially for Michael ran deep and had come without hardship. Even the subs he played with, he was fond of them. But fuck if he wanted his heart wrenched out of his chest and used as a bargaining chip.
He’d been right about Justin. So very messy. He’d sunk straight into Eli’s soul. But why this man?
Because he’s not afraid of you in the same way Noah never feared you. Eli scrubbed his face, rotated to his desk, and woke his computer.
One e-mail from Sam. No subject.
I have no issues with it.
Eli did. Eighteen years of issues. He picked up the phone and punched out a number he knew better than his own.
“Hello?” A deep voice on the other end.
“Lyle. It’s Eli.”
“E. Good to hear from you.” A pause. “Does this mean you’re going to grace us with your presence this weekend?”
“If you’ll have me, yes.” Lyle’s parties always provided a distraction and an outlet.
“You know my home is always open to you.”
“Oh, I know. And it’s been a while. I’ve been . . . busy.”
“So I hear.” Another pause. “Will it just be you?”
Straight into the important questions. “Yes. Though I do intend to play. I’ll figure out with who when I get there.”
“Excellent. It’s always a treat to watch you. I’m sure you’ll have no end of choices.”
“I’m sure. Thank you, Lyle.”
After a few more pleasantries, he hung up. There. All set.
There were always willing subs at Lyle’s. Finding the one he wanted . . . That was another story. You know who you want.
That temptation sat across the hall. Eli rose, wincing at the stiffness in his leg. Not as much pain. That walk last night—what had he been thinking?
He flinched. The accident. The deaths. His parents. Noah. Justin. All tumbling in his head.
Eli sighed, shook out his leg, and hobbled to the door. Opening it would calm Sam as well.
Justin sat at his desk, focused on his screen, absently biting his lip. He typed something, clicked the mouse. He looked over and gave Eli an unsure smile.
The way things had been this week, Eli couldn’t fault that. Eli nodded and returned to his desk.
Lyle’s party would relieve his physical needs. He’d work out the emotional ones. Eli lowered himself into his chair. Perhaps less painfully next time.
* * *
Friday could not move fast enough for Justin, nor anyone else in the office, it seemed. Even Sam was twitchy for the weekend. Everyone was upbeat—just ready to get the hell out of the office.
Especially Justin. Kelly had come through and in spades. An invitation to pretty much the best BDSM party in town. Some guy out in the western suburbs. He’d be able to get Eli out of his head, or at least get dominated hard enough to overshadow thoughts of him.
No coldness from the other room today. Might as well be July in Arizona, given the heat coming off Eli. Didn’t help that he wanted to walk into Eli’s office, shut the door, and kneel at his feet. Not even to suck his dick, though that fantasy had played itself out a few dozen times. No, kneeling before Eli felt right.
He’s your coworker. And there wouldn’t be a better job than this, not for some time. That’s why he needed Eli gone from his brain. Helping Mercy mattered. He’d fucked up with Francis. Playing was fine, but not anything beyond that. Especially not with someone with fistfuls of money.
Sam stalked out of his office, jacket in hand. “Lunch.”
Only eleven thirty and not a dollar in Justin’s wallet. “Have a good time.”
“You’re coming with me. The whole office. My treat.”
Justin locked his computer and grabbed his coat. “Magic words.”
Sam left only his chuckle behind as he marched to the back of the office. When Justin peeked into Eli’s office, the master of the house—so to speak—had a look of curiosity.
“Apparently Sam’s taking us all out to lunch.”
“How very kind of him.” Eli rose, took a glove from the edge of the desk, and put it on his left hand. The leather slid down Eli’s elegant fingers and molded to the back of his hand—as if the glove had been tailored to fit exactly those fingers. Sleek and slim. God, how he wanted that hand—covered in leather—around his dick.
How could putting something on be so hot?
Eli smiled. “Something wrong, Mr. White?”
“No, I . . .” he stammered . . . and was saved by Sam leading the troops out of the back. Thank fuck. He turned away from Eli and hoped his arousal wasn’t too noticeable.
Sam paused at Eli’s door. “Justin fill you in, E?”
“Oh yes. Rather nicely, too.”
Goose bumps rose all over when Sam glanced Justin’s way. But if Sam understood the double meaning in Eli’s words, he showed no sign. “Let’s go.”
Justin matched his pace with Eli’s when the others surged ahead. Eli’s leg must not have been bothering him much, but he would never match Sam’s frenetic pace, and to leave Eli alone seemed . . . rude.
Sam, of all of them, should have known that. Justin shoved his hands into his jacket and grunted.
“It’s fine. He’s too full o
f energy today,” Eli said. “Better he burn it off a bit.”
He glanced at Eli. Sam’s back was getting progressively farther away. “We don’t even know where he’s going.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’ll realize what’s he’s done and either come back or wait for us.” Amusement in Eli. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time Sam had left him in the dust. “Might think he’s used to keeping up with Michael—that man has legs a mile long—but it’s who Sam is. Always moving forward.”
Mr. Margarita. “Michael’s taller than you?”
“By two inches.” Eli’s expression turned distant. “And broad all over.” He shook his head. “I’m all length.”
Everywhere? Justin’s face warmed. “Bulk isn’t everything.”
There was that stunning grin. “Indeed.”
He picked up Eli’s good mood, but sobered after a half a block. “I’m sorry about this week.”
“Which part?”
Not yesterday. God, he’d replay that in a heartbeat. “The beginning. I was—I don’t know what I was.”
“Yes, you do.” Eli spoke without malice. “Or you wouldn’t be apologizing for it.”
He couldn’t argue with that. He’d been a brat. “You weren’t exactly Mr. Sunshine, either.”
“No, but when am I ever?”
Justin coughed a laugh, but the answer was right next to him. Today. Eli was bright as the sun and full of cheer.
They made it to Forbes Avenue, but none of their coworkers were in sight. “Eli, I—” Like you. Want you. Need you. Nothing seemed the right thing to say. “Can we manage friends?”
Eli placed both hands on top of his cane. “We’re already there.” No smile. No frown, either, just light and warmth. Justin wanted to cross the space between them and kiss Eli. Hard. Now. He shifted his weight.
Eli stepped forward.
A shrill whistle, the type one might use to call a dog, startled them both. “Eli!”
Eli hissed and whipped around and the mood shattered.
Sam waved from outside of Uncle Sam’s Sandwich Bar. Good God, but that man excelled at inopportune timing. Or the right timing. Last thing Justin needed was a relationship. Especially one with the CFO where he worked and not when he needed every cent that job brought in. “Guess we should go.”
Eli stared at Sam. “I suppose we should.” Eli set the pace once more, but tension reigned in him.
They entered the crowded shop. Sam stood near the door. “We snagged a table near the back.”
“Good.” Eli focused all of his attention on Sam. “Don’t you ever whistle for me like that again, Sam.” Though friendly in tone, the force behind that order—and it was nothing less than that—rattled Justin.
Sam, too. He took a half step back, a flush rising on his neck. “I—” Sam straightened. “My apologies, E. Won’t happen again.”
“That’s all I ask. Let Justin and me order, and we’ll join you.”
Sam nodded, handed Eli a twenty, and headed toward the back. The hairs on Justin’s neck stood up. Had Eli just ordered Sam around?
Eli must have read him like a book. “Sam’s my boss and my friend, but that was a little much, even from him.” He stepped up to the counter and ordered a steak and egg sub.
Justin followed, opting for the cheesesteak and fries. The whistle had been harsh. Still, it had kept Justin from doing something very wrong. He glanced sideways at Eli. Or very right. Fuck.
Eli paid the cashier. Justin took his slip, checked the time, and counted the hours until Kelly would pick him up for that party. Better to find someone else to flog or fuck his brains out. He didn’t need attachments. Far too close to entrapment, and given the way he reacted to Eli, he might do anything for him.
He would not walk down that road again.
Chapter Six
The house was older, very large, and secluded. Kelly eased her Honda up the long drive and parked next to a BMW in the expansive driveway. “Lyle only holds a party every couple of months, so it can get crowded depending on who accepts.”
“Crowded is fine,” Justin said. Better to find someone to help him get the image of Eli’s commanding face from his mind. Strip the sound of Eli’s voice from his ears.
“The usual paperwork. No alcohol. Sex is fine with protection.”
Made sense. This far out from the main road and surrounded by lots of nothing, not like the neighbors would complain. They climbed out of her car. The path to the house was well lit, and the night warm for October. Good, since the blue silk shirt he’d chosen to wear was thin, but it clung to his body and was easy to peel off, if needed.
They were greeted at the front door by a tall man who defined the term silver fox. Dark hair, with just a hint of gray. Dark suit, too, over a white shirt. Classic and masculine. “Kelly, so good to see you again, and you’ve brought a guest.”
Kelly’s smile was large and relaxed. “Master Lyle, this is Justin. An old friend from California. He’s new to the Pittsburgh Scene.”
“But not to the Scene,” Justin added. Lyle held out his hand and Justin took it. A firm shake before Lyle let go.
Master Lyle made Justin’s breath catch in the way all Doms did, but did nothing for his dick. Handsome, yes, but there wasn’t that spark, that fire. There needed to be if he was going to get Eli out of his head.
Lyle gestured down the hall to a table with forms. “The necessary evils.”
And legal protection, if something happened. He’d been to parties with waivers before, and to those without. He read over the text then signed. Nothing unexpected; nothing Kelly hadn’t told him about.
When done, they both fell in step behind Lyle. “New in town?”
“Been here about two years, but I’m in grad school.”
“Ah,” Lyle said. “Yes, that will eat your time.” They stepped into the biggest room Justin had ever seen. “I’m glad you’ve had a chance to join us.”
“Me too.” A small stairway led down into the main space. The room swirled with mingling people. Some couples, some more. Dressed to the nines—or not at all. “This is what I need, I think.”
Lyle chucked. “If you’re looking for anything in particular, don’t hesitate to ask. I know everyone here. He stepped back and gave Justin an appraising look. “Men rather than women?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps Master Carmichael or Master Theo.” Lyle rubbed his chin. “Master E is here tonight, as well.”
The floor became far less solid under Justin’s feet and the air thin. No way in hell.
“Master E?” Kelly rose up on her toes and peered into the main area. “He’s incredible to watch. Intense. You’d love him, Justin.”
“Perhaps I should introduce you?”
“I . . .” Justin scanned the room. “I don’t . . .” His breath caught when he spotted the dark curls, the long line of his torso, and the cane. Eli laughed at something said by the man next to him and flicked a glance up.
That glance became a stare followed by one of Eli’s cock-hardening smiles. Justin’s heart nearly beat its way out of his chest. “Shit.”
“I see you’ve already met,” Lyle said.
Oh God.
“Just?” Kelly’s voice was higher than normal. “You know Master E?”
Eli moved toward the stairs, the crowd parted, and holy fuck, he was wearing black leather pants. The white button-down was no different from the ones he wore at work except there was no tie and the top two buttons were undone. The vest was far more elaborate. Dark brocade that shimmered with gold. It matched the handle on his cane. Black gloves.
Utterly Eli. Down to the lifting of a single eyebrow when he reached the foot of the stairs.
Justin’s feet moved on their own, taking him down each step until he stood before Eli.
“You know Master E?” Kelly asked again.
Eli tipped his head slightly. “Justin and I work together.”
“Ah.” That from Lyle.
“Wow,” Kelly said.
God, the way those pants clung to Eli’s legs and over his package. Justin’s own jeans were skintight—and his cock pressed against the confinement. “I . . . What . . . We . . .”
It took one gesture—a single finger pressed to Eli’s lips—for Eli to silence him. “Lyle, is there somewhere Justin and I can talk in private?”
“The deck off the east hallway. There may be some folks outside, but I assume you can change that.”
Eli’s chuckle twisted around Justin’s nerves. “Unless you object, Justin?”
“No.” Because they did need to talk. Holy fuck.
Eli crooked a finger. “Then come with me.”
Following Eli was like a drug.
“Breathe.” Eli wasn’t even looking at Justin, and yet he knew.
Justin pulled in a breath. All around them, people moved out of the way. Deferential nods for Eli and curious looks that stroked over Justin. Some tinged with envy.
Everything fell into place. That afternoon in the office. Hell, every day in the office. Of course Eli was a Dom. What else could the man be?
Your CFO.
Yes, that. They reached a sliding glass door, which led out onto a deck that would have been huge had it not overlooked a sprawling terraced patio that made the deck seem downright cozy. As Lyle said, there were a few people on the deck. Justin walked to the railing and gripped it since his legs were about ready to give out.
Eli. Master E.
How the hell was that supposed to work? What if Sam found out?
Except Sam’s words echoed in Justin’s brain. E, why is my assistant kneeling at your feet?
Hell. He really didn’t want to think about what that meant. He stared at the patio beneath them. Somewhere, water trickled.
Eli murmured behind him. The sliding of the glass door opened and closed and Justin knew they were alone.
He shivered, but it had nothing to do with the night breeze and everything to do with the distinctive sound of Eli’s cane against the wood decking. “Justin.”
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
“Turn around, please.”
He could obey, though.
Eli rested both gloved hands on top of the golden head of his cane. “You should know that I’m not entirely surprised to see you here.”