“Good.” He pushes back to meet my thrusts. My desk rattles, and the computer tilts precariously, but neither of us care. My handsgreedily slide over every inch of him I can reach, needing to assure myself he’s mine. “Noah, there, fuck, there, please.”
Keeping his hips tilted, I hammer into his hot ass, hitting his prostate with each thrust until he cries out for me. I reach under and grab his cock, stroking him in my fist. He drips across my skin, and it only makes me harder. I want to crawl inside and be so deep no one can ever separate us.
My chest is tight as he takes me so well. A noise has me lifting my head, and I see Amanda, frozen, just outside of my office. My smirk is cruel as I twist my hips so my boy screams my name, and she covers her mouth.
My eyes meet hers, and I see hers widen as I slide my hand around his neck, jerk him up, and bite his neck as he cries out for me. I can’t help but smirk as she whirls and rushes away.
Forgetting all about her, I focus on my boy and the way his body coils below me, his cock swollen in my hand.
“Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Stain my desk with it so I’ll smell you every time I sit here,” I bark, and he whimpers as I hammer into him, stroking him until he locks up below me. His cock throbs in my hand as he sprays his release, my name leaving his lips in a gasp, and it sends me over the edge.
I let go, giving him everything. I fill him, locking us together in pleasure.
Slumping against him, I kiss his neck, face, and back, and he smiles happily, relaxing below me.
“Remember that every time someone else tries to take what’s mine,” he orders softly.
“Baby, no one could ever take me from you,” I promise as I cradle him in my arms. He relaxes, obviously feeling better, and relief floods me, but soon worry returns.
I just hope he doesn’t regret the choice he made to lie to the public. If I even suspect a hint of it getting between him and me, I will hold another fucking stupid press conference and claim him in front of everyone. Fuck everything else.
Nothing is going to take my boy from me, not even his own anxiety.
Mackie is with Conan tonight, so I planned to work late. When there’s a knock at my office door, I call, “You don’t have to keep me company, Skylar. I don’t want to see more photos of Bones.”
“Uh, sorry, am I disturbing you?” The familiar yet awkward voice has me jerking my head up. My eyes widen when I see my father in the doorway. “The door was open,” he explains, jerking his thumb to the garage door.
“We leave it open until the last person leaves,” I reply, staring at him. “Why are you here?” I frown, already feeling defensive. I don’t know what he sees in my expression, but a sad smile tilts his lips down.
“Can’t I come and see my son without a reason?” he asks as he leans awkwardly against the doorframe, looking around.
“In all my years owning this garage, you have never visited without a reason,” I reply as I stand, unsure what to do. My office is messy and definitely not like his, but there are rows and rows of clippings and pictures across the wall, and he steps closer, checking them out. “Father, what do you need?”
“I was hoping we could be a family again. I’m willing to try anything to rebuild our relationship, but I’m starting to realize you already have a family.” He sounds wistful and sad, and I sink into my chair.
“You want . . . a relationship with me?” I hedge.
“You’re my son.” He looks over at me. “I know I don’t always act like it, but I love you very much. Your man, Mackie, talked some sense into me and told me to show you and rebuild our relationship, and I think he’s right. So, son, can I take you out for some food, and can we try this again? I know I have a lot to make up for, and I know it may be odd, but I would like to try.”
When I don’t respond, he nods and tugs his suit into place. “Understood. Do not worry, I shouldn’t have barged in here?—”
“Yes,” I blurt out, surprising us both. “I would like to go to dinner.”
All I’ve ever wanted is to be his son and for him to care. I’m not saying this will change everything, but he’s trying, and I know I’ll regret it if I don’t as well.
“Oh, well, good. Is Mackie around? Does he want to come?” he asks hopefully.
“He’s out,” I reply gruffly. “I still can’t believe you two didn’t kill each other.”
He laughs and strolls over, leaning into the chair opposite my desk. “I like him. He’s brutal and honest, but it’s refreshing. Besides, he clearly loves my son, so how could I not like him? How about we go to Alerts? The steakhouse?—”
“Mind if I pick the place?” I ask. “Not with Michelin stars, but somewhere I like to eat . . . if you want to get to know me.”
I feel awkward after suggesting it. My father doesn’t eat in the types of places I do.
“I would like that. I have my car outside,” he says.
“I’ll drive.” I grab my keys. “You can send your driver home. I’ll drop you off after.”
