Wound Tight (Made in Jersey #4)

by Tessa Bailey

  Just as Milo was beginning to run out of breath, Renner switched their positions, not being the least bit gentle about throwing Milo up against the chain-link fence. “Was that you smiling while you kissed me, pretty boy?” He brought their foreheads together, catching Milo’s lower lip and holding it while he growled. “There’s nothing funny about how bad I want to lay you across one of these car hoods and yank your tight work pants down.”

  “They’re not that tight,” Milo blurted, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Not when his aching dick was meshed with Renner’s and the man was talking about doing a hell of a lot more than they’d done in the dressing room. Not when every worry for the future had dwindled into nothing except the man in front of him. His commanding voice had become the only thing that moved him.

  “They are that tight. Believe me.” Renner’s hands were rough, demanding as they wedged between Milo and the chain-link fence to knead his ass. Hard. “Not as tight as this would be, though. Isn’t that right?”

  Milo couldn’t respond, because Renner snared his mouth in a second kiss. More exploring this time. Like he was trying to find out the answer to a question, but neither of them seemed to know what it was. Renner’s grip on his ass was insistent, keeping his hips angled forward as they struggled to drag their erections side to side, up and down, through two sets of pants. Jesus, had he really wondered if he could come by sliding his naked cock against Renner? He might orgasm just like this. Rubbing their bulging flies together. Amazing.

  He was craving more words, more reassurances from Renner, and the man obliged, breaking the mind-blowing kiss to speak harshly at Milo’s lips. “Are you thinking of yourself beneath me on the hood of one of these cars yet?” His breath rushed in Milo’s ear, sending a hot shiver down to his tightening spine. “Maybe you’d like me to pick one close to the entrance, so everyone could watch me rock into you for the first time.”

  The image was so startlingly hot, so unexpected, Milo almost lost his load, right there in his pants. “Is that…the kind of thing you like?”

  “I’d like anything that included fucking you,” he rasped into Milo’s ear, thrusting them up against the fence. “You’d draw quite a crowd, wouldn’t you? A tight pretty boy getting it for the first time from his boss.” His mouth pushed into Milo’s neck, followed by a scrape of teeth. “You think you’ll scream my name? Or Travis’s?”

  Cold. Milo went cold everywhere. His stomach, the dead center of his chest. One second, he couldn’t have been more certain that he was going to flood his briefs. The next, he couldn’t get out from between Renner and the chain-link fence fast enough. He shoved at Renner’s big shoulders—hard. “Get off me.”

  Renner stared at the spot where Milo had been, propping his hands on his hips, chest heaving with labored breaths. “It just slipped out.”

  “Yeah? Well…”

  What was Milo mad about? Wasn’t this whole arrangement with Renner meant to prepare him to approach Travis? So they’d taken it a step further, but that didn’t change what they’d agreed upon at the outset. Just because it had seemed more about them being in a moment together than…someone else being in future moments…didn’t mean anything.

  Or did it?

  “I was just surprised, all right? I mean, maybe I’m not the only one who needs to tighten up my game.” His laugh sounded unnatural, tinny. “Bringing up another person while kissing is almost never a good idea.”

  Even though his imminent need for relief had passed, his cock responded to the sight of Renner adjusting his bulge, re-tucking his shirt into his pants. But the resurgence of lust dimmed when the bastard took out his cell phone, which was lighting up like a blinking Broadway sign. “I have to admit, you took my mind off things for a while.” He cleared his throat and headed for the parking lot. “Back to reality now, though. Please make my excuses to your friends.” There was a hitch in his stride and he slowed to a stop. “Please let me know one of them drove you home safely?”

  What was this thing between them? Milo’s irritation over Renner’s pulling a quick exit was put on hold, all because the man showed concern for his safety. He didn’t have an explanation, either. Only knew it caused something to twist in his stomach. “Listen, can you stay? Can we just forget you said something stupid?” Milo took a step toward Renner, but the other man backed up. “If anyone should be pissed, it’s me, you know.”

  “Yeah, I do know.” Renner shook his head. “So why would you want me to stay?”

  “Because I’m kind of getting used to having you around.” He’d never felt more inadequate in his life, standing in front of this man with all the answers, with his identity so firmly in hand, and attempting to convince him they could make a difference for each other. Maybe Milo couldn’t realistically offer him that. “I don’t know. I guess I thought we were becoming friends.”

  Something about what Milo said seemed to strike a chord. But not the right one. “I don’t have time for friends.” Renner turned on a heel, his long strides eating up the asphalt on the way to his Mercedes. “Please let me know you have a ride home. Good night.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Today was a new day.

  Last night had been just the kick in the ass Renner had needed. Christ, not only was he wallowing in self-pity over losing the Rocky Mountain Ltd. account to a competitor, but he’d let this thing with Milo and Travis get under his skin. Not anymore.

  Renner hit send on an email and leaned back in his chair, hearing the lunchtime bell go off on the factory floor below. He’d already done a full day’s work and it was only noon. It was amazing what he could accomplish when he stopped mooning over some guy seven years his junior and put his focus where it needed to be. On growing the company.

  Last night’s reality check was still fresh, but he was ignoring it. Right. He definitely wasn’t thinking about the way Milo had flinched when he’d said the other man’s name. Wasn’t thinking about how consumed he’d been by the kiss until he’d fucked it up. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about how the person he’d begun feeling undeniably possessive over wanted someone else. Yes, that’s where the work came in to distract him. Proposals and emails and purchase orders and investment strategies.

  Along with this fresh perspective, he’d also woken up with a handle on this…thing with Milo. There had been a period of his life spent feeling bad for himself—and he wasn’t going back to that place. So he would do what he did best. Tidy up loose ends and move on. Milo was closer than he realized to owning his sexuality; he simply needed a push. Renner would provide it. Then he’d make for the exit, much like he’d done last night. Without looking back.

  Renner had just decided to skip lunch and plow through another round of emails when he heard the familiar tread coming up the metal stairs to the second floor. When his door opened a moment later—without a knock, of course—Renner’s fingers stuttered on the keyboard, but he didn’t look up from his computer. “The door is closed for a reason.”

  “There’s a lunch break for a reason,” Milo returned, even more annoyance in his tone than usual. “You’re going to eat this sandwich if I have to feed it to you myself.”

  Languid heat melted in Renner’s stomach over the prospect, making him grimace. “Leave it on my desk. I’m busy.”

  “No way.” Milo’s work boots bumped into his desk. Thump. “It’ll sprout mold by the time you get around to eating it.”

  “You’re such a nag.”

  “I know. I’m such a dick, bringing you lunch, aren’t I?” Milo slumped into the chair opposite Renner’s desk and waited until Renner stop typing and turned. “I bet you’re wondering what you need to say to get rid of me, aren’t you?”

  It had crossed his mind. People were usually pretty easy to lose once they started to get close enough to count his flaws. Why did this man continue to persist? All things considered, he’d been worse to Milo than almost anyone. Apart from that hand job.

  Milo started to tick off his fingers
. “I mean, you told me you don’t want me as a friend—”

  “That’s not true. I told you I didn’t have time for friends.”

  “I was the only one standing there, so it’s the same thing.” Milo didn’t wait for him to respond. “You’ve reminded me on more than one occasion that you sign my paycheck. And if we counted dismissive looks as comments, there’d be at least fifty fuck offs to add to this list.”

  None of this was sitting well. It was like someone was dragging a hot iron across his chest. “Is there a point to this practiced speech?”

  “Yeah.” Milo leaned forward, hands linked loosely between his knees. “I’m not going away. That’s the point.”

  The hope flapping its wings in his throat was atrocious. He resented it. Didn’t want it. “Yes, but I’m going away.”

  “I know.” A heavy shadow slipped across Milo’s expression. “I might go away, too. From Hook. Depending on what…happens.” He meant with Travis. God, he was talking about some guy who cooked and smiled and probably possessed wide-eyed optimism. Like Milo. Not like Renner. That didn’t stop him wanting to shout I kissed you last night. That was me. “But if we both stayed here, working in this factory for another couple decades,” Milo continued, “I would keep climbing the stairs and annoying you like this. If things stayed the same, I wouldn’t go away or give up on being your friend. Because you deserve to have one. So technically, even if we both go away…I’m not. I’m refusing.” Milo shoved to his feet and adjusted his security belt. “So eat your fucking sandwich.”

  Oh, great. The guy was just going to waltz into his office and drop a bomb on him, then leave? It was infuriating. He’d given no real reason for Milo to want to be his friend, and yet he remained steadfast. Delivering sandwiches and trying to make him relax. Renner watched the younger man walk to the office door, the lump in his throat multiplying and growing horns. “Wait.” Milo stopped and half turned. “If you would stop trying to win a humanitarian award for five seconds, I would tell you about tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes.” Renner rose from the desk chair, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt. Milo’s gaze tracked the movement, making Renner think of the previous night’s kiss, but he commanded himself to focus. “You asked for my help, so I’m giving it.” He tried to clear the sludge from his lungs, but it remained. “You told me this Travis likes to go out, so—”

  “You’re. Taking me out?”

  Renner was momentarily speechless over the way Milo’s face transformed. Like blinds opening in front of a sunny window. “Yes.” He held up a finger when Milo started to interrupt again. “But please stop acting like a nightclub is Mars, for the love of God. You could easily do this on your own, but apparently you’re rubbing off on me because I feel…” He shivered. “Obligated to guide your path. You’ve turned me into gay Yoda. It’s not a good look.”

  Milo’s lips twitched. “Actually, I think it’s your best look.”

  “What do you know?” Renner flicked a hand at him. “You bought a seventies detective jacket.”

  “It’s a race car costume, and you made me buy it.”

  Renner shrugged, mostly to hide the laugh he was battling to keep inside, but his hip shifted a file on his desk. The file. The one he’d been staunchly ignoring all morning in favor of looking ahead and not back. A feat that was easier said than done, now that he’d stopped working furiously. He gave the file a look of distaste and shoved it into the file cabinet behind him. “Let’s try to leave Hook around eight. We’ll probably hit some traffic into Manhattan—”

  Milo was suddenly standing behind him. “What was that?” He tried to pry open the file cabinet, but Renner snagged his wrist, unable to ignore the way the younger man’s pulse jumped. “I’m a trained observer, you know. That’s the same file you were frowning about yesterday.”

  “Enough, Milo,” he said, wearily. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You called me Milo. Not Bautista.” He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, and Renner’s dick practically groaned. “That’s progress, Yoda.”

  “Get out of my office and I’ll eat the damn sandwich.” Don’t leave.

  “Come on.” Milo took back his wrist and hopped up onto Renner’s desk. “It’s the same thing you were arguing about on that phone call, isn’t it? What’s up?”

  “I lost an account, all right?” Renner blurted. “Technically, I never even had it. But they turned down our proposal. End of story.” When Milo only stared at him thoughtfully, Renner pushed an irritated hand through his hair. “What?”

  “Nothing, I…” Milo’s gaze cut in the direction of the factory floor. “I guess I never considered you might take losses along with the wins. You seem so in control of everything.”

  Discomfort crept into Renner’s throat. “I am. This wasn’t something I could control.” He stood and paced away from the desk, looking out at the employees filing outside or into the break room. “Samantha and Duke have helped put more of a family-friendly face on Bastion Enterprises, but this particular massive account…they’re still not interested.”

  Silence passed. “Family-friendly.” He heard a creak and knew Milo was off the desk. Coming toward him? “They won’t give you the account because of who you are.”

  “Yeah.” Renner tried to sound flippant, but didn’t pull it off. “But every time they release a new product and put out feelers for a United States-based manufacturer to complete the orders, I submit a proposal. It’s consistently better than my competitors’ offerings, but they persist in rejecting it. Me.” He felt Milo behind him and forced himself not to turn. Any kind of sympathy would only make the disappointment worse. The man had just admitted he thought Renner was all but invincible—he didn’t need to witness the letdown. “Really, I should have stopped giving a shit a long time ago. The corporation is strong without the account. I don’t need their approval.”

  “But you want it?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what it’s really about.” He tapped a knuckle against the glass, the ding resonating in his head. Milo’s silhouette came into focus behind him and the words just flowed. Flowed right out like water, in a way he’d never experienced with another person. “Maybe it’s about winning. Or proving I can operate in any world. Any circle. There have been people along the way who didn’t think I could. Whatever the reason…I’m done. I’m not trying anymore. It’s not worth the added stress.”

  Milo was silent so long, Renner was finally compelled to turn and witness the disappointment on the other man’s face firsthand.

  But Milo wasn’t disappointed. He was pissed.

  “Fuck. That.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Renner tilted his head at Milo. “Excuse me?”

  “I said—”

  “Yes, I heard you,” Renner replied, sauntering forward, hands clasped behind his back. “Fuck that, you said. Was there anything else you wanted to add?”

  “Sure is,” Milo answered, pulling up his security belt. He just needed to figure out how to articulate this anger jabbing into his sternum like a pointy stick. He was indignant. And he could literally count on one hand the amount of times he’d worked up a good enough head of steam to use that description. Milo kept it light. But he didn’t like people screwing with his friends, especially when the reason wasn’t even close to fair. Or right.

  He’d been working with Renner for months. Watched him more than was probably natural, marveling at how comfortable the guy was in his own skin. He worked longer hours than anyone Milo had encountered in his twenty-six years. After that comment he’d made in the parking lot last night about letting down countless employees, Milo had his number. The boss man cared. He cared and he busted his butt. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to…well, everyone…there were people out there stepping on his neck. Trying to keep him down.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” Milo said.

  “Glad to hear it.” Renner nodded. “You have the floor.”

  Milo blew
out a breath. “I wasn’t here when you bought the factory, but I’ve seen the changes. You put in newer, safer machines. You improved working conditions. Made the factory greener…whatever that means. People might not like you, but they don’t exactly hate you, because of those things.”

  “My heart is full.”

  “Shut up.” Milo shifted in his boots, suddenly a little uncomfortable over having Renner’s undivided attention. He had a lot that needed saying, but the boss had a brilliant mind and everything in Milo’s head could come out sounding like dog shit. “You’re doing a great thing here. I’ll probably never see your other factories, but I know the standards you keep, and I’m sure they’re just as well operated. So what I’m saying is, this company that didn’t want you? It’s their loss.” When Renner started to interject, he held up a hand. “But I don’t think you should give up on them. This is important to you, so figure out a way to win the account.”

  Renner clearly hadn’t been expecting him to say that. Maybe he was onto something?

  Or maybe…dog shit?

  “I’ve been listening to you yap on the phone for long enough to learn a few things. So I know there’s never only one horse in a race. What is this company’s product?”

  “Hardware designed for education. Calculators, early-learning computers. Primarily for schools. I was going to cut some of our less lucrative accounts and designate several of the new machines downstairs to completing orders.” Stress lines bracketed Renner’s mouth as he explained. “It would have meant hiring another two dozen employees and possibly opening another location close enough that people from Hook could commute. It would have been good for the town.”