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“So what about The Breakfast Club, have you seen that one?”
Thorne nodded.
“Sixteen Candles? Some Kind of Wonderful?”
“Nope.”
Dash sighed. “You were so deprived.”
He had been, deprived of a social life anyway, not of other things, education included. “I was busy.”
“Studying?” Dash asked.
“You guessed it.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have needed to study too much in school. You seem like the naturally smart type.”
Thorne sighed. If only that had been the case. “I’m dyslexic. I’ve learned to deal with it, but it kept me from reading well when I was a kid and that affected my grades. My parents got me a tutor, and while I’m thankful for a lot of what I learned from her, they weren’t okay with me simply improving my skills. I had to be the best in school. No kid of theirs was going to let a disability cause them to make anything other than straight A’s. I spent a lot of time with my tutor. And a lot of time on my schoolwork.”
Dash shook his head. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, it did, but look at me now. I’m the success story my father wanted me to be. By the time I was in high school I was thriving academically, but my parents, my father especially, could never believe I’d succeed if he let up the pressure even a tiny bit. I graduated top of my class, exactly like he wanted, but I did it for me, not him. I see my parents for major holidays or if I can’t avoid it. Otherwise, I only talk to my sister.”
“Are you two close?”
He nodded. “As much as an arrogant ass and his popular married sister with a perfect house, golden retriever, and 2.5 kids can be.”
Dash glanced around. “Your house looks pretty damn perfect to me.”
He snorted. “No wife, no kids, no letting my parents tell me what and where to buy.”
“Ah. Did they pick out your sister’s house?”
“No, but they approved of her choices.”
“Is that why you work all the time?” Dash asked. “To make sure you stay a success story?”
“That used to be why. Now I think I’m just used to it. I don’t know how to do anything else. I tried having a life outside work for a while when I was first hired at Symthson, but it didn’t last.”
“What did you do for fun back then?”
Fucked my married boss. Had a fucking midlife crisis at twenty-eight. “That was when I was sailing. I actually spent time outside, not just at a desk or on a treadmill, but now…I spend all my time looking for the next client and figuring out how to hold the ones I’ve got.”
Dash watched him, seeming to know there was more Thorne wasn’t telling him. “If you lost a client or two, would that be the worst thing ever?”
“No.” Thorne needed to change the subject. “You know what would be?”
“What?”
“If you had to leave before I had a chance to fuck you.”
Thorne didn’t miss Dash’s quick intake of breath.
“Is that right?” Dash asked.
Thorne nodded. Dash rose onto his knees and pushed at Thorne’s chest until he lay back against the end of the couch. Dash reached for the fastenings of Thorne’s shorts. “Let’s see what we can do to get this party started, then.”
When Dash had freed Thorne’s cock, he sucked at the head, gently, no more than a tease. Thorne groaned, enjoying the warmth of Dash’s tongue and the sensual, barely there touches. By the time he took Thorne deep into his mouth, Thorne was starving for him, but still, he didn’t fight the pace. There was something incredibly erotic about the way Dash was taking his time. Eventually though, Thorne felt the need for more, the need to drive into Dash’s ass and make him beg. He gripped Dash’s shoulders. “Enough.”
Dash looked up at him. “Really?”
“Yes, I want your ass, and I’m not letting you distract me anymore.”
Dash smiled and shifted position so he was leaning over Thorne. Thorne looked up at him. The lust in Dash’s eyes stole his breath. “Fuck,” he said, more an exhale than a word. “Kiss me.”
Dash did. Thorne let him take the lead, a long, thorough exploration, warm, soft lips pressing against Thorne’s, Dash’s tongue sliding over his, tasting, licking the roof of his mouth. Thorne sucked at Dash’s lower lip. He loved how soft it was.
By the time Dash pulled back, his breathing was ragged, and he stared down at Thorne, wide-eyed, shock on his face.
“You feel that too?” A dangerous question, but Thorne was feeling dangerous, feeling like he was on the edge of something, and he wanted to jump.
For a moment Thorne was sure Dash did and he was going to admit it; then Dash schooled his expression. “Shut up and fuck me.”
Yeah, that was what he needed to do. No more foolish fantasies. “Bedroom.”
