Page 33 of Laken's longing

Nothing.

Christ, could this day get any worse?

Seeing Jupiter’s attractive, grinning mug said yes.

“Go away I’m busy,” he stated, blocking the doorway, worried that Jupiter could inadvertently stand on Isley.

At nearly the same height, Jupiter had no problem looking over Laken’s shoulder into the empty office. A speculative look appeared as he slid his gaze back to Laken.

“You don’t look busy…such a pity.”

Laken started visibly, his gaze narrowing on his brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you going to let me in? Or must I have to have this conversation in the passageway?” One dark, silky brow arched upward wearing a look of expectation as his head angled towards Charlotte, who was pretending to work.

Laken carefully stood to the side to allow Jupiter in and bit his lip hard enough to taste blood while he watched him saunter in wearing an outfit similar to the one hidden under his desk, except Jupiter’s skinny legged trousers were a deep forest green and he wore a vest in dark brown over his cream shirt. The epitome of sleek casualness, he walked with utter confidence.

Jupiter could grace the cover of any fashion magazine or runway. His oval face was all equal proportions. Dark brows and thick, long eyelashes framed crystal blue eyes. A straight nose led to a full, pale pink mouth that Laken had asininely considered was perfect to give blow jobs when he’d first met him. He was long and lean, willowy even, making him the perfect advertisement for their fashion. Jupiter had point blank refused all modelling contracts in his teens. He’d never said why.

Laken much preferred to dress in suits because of his bulk. Too wide over the shoulders and back, and his ass was solid and rounder than most. He’d look ridiculous in the types of clothes Jupiter wore, which accentuated Jupiter's attractiveness.

The man drew men to him like bees to pollen, yet to stop folks getting close enough to see the damage their childhood had caused, Jupiter had a defensive barrier that deflected questions about his past. All Laken knew of it was that he arrived late one night, unseen. It had been months before they’d gotten introduced to him. Why, no one knew, though Laken speculated by the scents wafting from Jupiter’s room that he’d suffered some untold horror and needed to physically heal. Laken’s body had many marks and bruises on it, but he’d been a cocky son of a bitch to hide his terror. Jupiter, to start with, had not been that.

Jupiter took the seat Isley had used, looking back at him with an enquiring arch of his head.

“Aren’t you joining me? Is there a reason you’re looking at the floor like it's quicksand and you don’t know where to step?” he questioned, sniggering.

Laken gave him the finger while surreptitiously watching the carpet for a small furry animal, worried as he moved back around his desk, secretly cursing Isley for his discomfort.

The low chirp was all the warning he got, and he opened his hand in defense at seeing the sugar glider launch itself at him from the edge of his desk. He caught it instinctively, curling his fingers carefully around it as he slumped dramatically into his seat, somewhat unbalanced by the small, sniffing nose pressing into the palm of his hand. Its tiny head rubbing against his skin repeatedly, sending odd sensations through his hand just like last time. The diminutive size of the animal was doing something funny to his insides. A protectiveness he’d never felt for someone outside of his family swept through him as he placed his hand in his lap, doing his best to act nonchalant with Jupiter not threefeet away, staring at him in such a way that Laken would bet his last dollar Jupiter was aware of his predicament.

“Good catch,” he said, confirming his belief as the tiniest paws wrapped tight around his index finger.

The heat of embarrassment coursed through him as he refused to acknowledge the truth of what was happening.

“What do you need, Jupiter? I’ve a full day after…” he stopped himself just in time before he mentioned his hangover day.

Jupiter ran a hand over his smooth jaw and chuckled. “Your hangover? Do you know how hard it was to carry you to bed, you big ass lump?”

The gleefulness made Laken groan and mutter, disheartened at finding out it wasn’t Popi. His fingers tightened around Isley on instinct to block his tiny ears. “Had to be you, didn’t it!”

“Yep.” Jupiter lounged back, making himself comfortable. “You should be thanking me for not letting you grab another bottle.”

Had he wanted to do that? He wracked his brain but came up empty. All he had was a sense of dread about what he’d shared with Jupiter in a moment of weakness.

“I can see your mind working. You don’t remember declaring your feelings for a”—his eyes dropped to the desk where his hand was hidden from view—“certain someone?”

There was a significant squeaking coming from his hand that Jupiter wouldn’t miss, and Laken went back to cursing silently. He tried coughing to hide the noise when he couldn’t tell Isley to quit it.

However hot he’d been before, right now the urge to strip off his jacket to cool down was tempting, along with undoing the tie that suddenly felt like it was choking him.

Laken did none of those things. Years of practice at feeling uncomfortable held him still. He was however, going to strangleIsley with his bare hands when he shifted back, for daring to put him in this position.

You put us here by pretending nothing happened last night.

Be quiet, I don't need you mouthing off when Jupiter is sitting right there watching us!

“Shut up and stop being a wind-up merchant. What do you want?” he snapped at Jupiter. He cast his empty hand at the scattered documents, only then catching sight of Isley’s iPad, which he was never without, and went back to the silent curses at his misfortune. “I’m busy.”