Adriel's whole body shuddered in response. A tremor that ran through him from head to toe, that made his breath catch and his hands grip tighter at Landen's jacket. The sound he made was small, broken, barely there, but Landen heard it. Felt it against his lips.
He pressed his mouth to the spot and groaned.
"Fuck." Muffled against his skin. "Sopretty."
Landen felt it before he saw it; Adriel’s body going from open and warm and pressed into him to stiff and withdrawn in asingle second. Like a door slamming shut. Like light switching off.
He lifted his head.
Adriel's face was closed. His hands had released Landen's jacket and hung at his sides, limp. He was looking at Landen's chest, not his face.
"I… I'm sorry." The words tripped over themselves. His voice was thin. "I can't… I have to…"
He didn't finish. He bent, quick and jerky, grabbing for his bag where it had fallen against the shelf. Papers slipped out, scattered across the floor. He didn't stop to gather them. Just shoved what he could reach inside, left the rest, kept moving.
"I'm sorry," he said again, backing away. One step, then another. Eyes still not meeting Landen's. "I'm sorry, I just… I have to go."
Landen didn't stop him.
Didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't reach out, though every part of him wanted to, though his hands were still lifted slightly, still shaped like they were holding something that was no longer there.
Then Adriel turned and fled. His footsteps were loud in the narrow corridor. Then the door at the end banged open, banged shut, and he was gone.
Silence rushed back in to fill the space.
Landen’s heart was pounding. Hard enough to feel in his throat, in his temples, in the places where his mouth had just been pressed to Adriel's skin. He could still taste him; salt and warmth and something underneath that was just Adriel. Could still feel the shape of him, the way he'd shuddered and held on.
He knew he'd crossed a line. He was the boss. Adriel was his employee. There were rules, boundaries, reasons things like this weren't supposed to happen. He'd ignored all of them, walked into this room and ended up with his mouth on his employee's throat, his body pressed against his, his hands in his hair.
But Adriel had pulled away. Whatever Landen had felt in that moment, Adriel hadn't felt the same. Or had felt it and then thought better of it.
He stood in the empty room and waited for the regret to hit. For the cold realization of what he'd done, what he'd risked, what he'd possibly destroyed. For his better judgment to reassert itself.
It didn't come.
He didn't regret it. Not any of it. The only thing he regretted was the look on Adriel's face when he'd pulled away. The shuttered windows. The fear.
He lowered his hands. Let them fall to his sides.
The manuscript was still on the floor where it had slipped from his grip. He bent and gathered it, stacked the pages, straightened the binding.
The corridor was empty too as he slowly walked to the elevator.
But with every step he felt the ghost of Adriel's pulse under his lips. The taste of his skin. The small broken sound he'd made before everything went wrong.
He didn't regret it.
But did Adriel?
Chapter 13
Adriel
2 and a half years ago
Zach was already pulling on his jeans when Adriel lifted his head from the pillow.
The room was dim, lit only by the streetlamp outside and the faint glow from the bathroom where the light had been left on. Adriel's body still hummed with the warmth of what they'd done, that loose-limbed, boneless feeling that always came after.
