Page 67 of Technical Advances

EPILOGUE—LATER THAT YEAR

BENJI

“But it’s your private plane?” I said, and Anson just looked at me.

“Yup, I heard it. My privilege is showing. God, I’m sorry, that sounded awful. That was awful. I can’t believe I said that! I’m just worried because it’s so close to Christmas, and they’re going to beat us to the chalet, and …”

“And they don’t even know that the other one is going to be there!”

“Oh God. Should we warn them?”

“Benji, we didn’t tell them because we thought they wouldn’t come at all if we did. If we tell them our flight is delayed with this storm, we’ll never see either of them.”

Anson snaked his arms around me from behind as I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window of his condominium in Boston, both of us watching the snow fall. Snowfall in Boston was not an anomaly, but this storm had snuck in ahead of schedule and was blanketing the eastern seaboard.

Anson’s pilot had called to tell us the earliest she thought we’d be able to leave Boston for Anson’s ski lodge in Colorado was in two days. My dad was already at Anson’s cabin because he was delivering the furniture that Anson had commissioned him to make. Beck’s flight was arriving from California, where he’d wrapped up a business trip, and where he didn’t have to worry about a winter nor’easter. We were supposed to arrive at the airport around the same time and head to the mountains with Beck.

“They’re never going to forgive us,” I said to our reflections in the window.

Anson released me and turned the fireplace on with the remote, a remote which could also dim the lights, play music, and frost the windows. Anson did all of those things, too, before returning to the spot by the window where I stood watching him.

“They’re going to spend the next two days fighting,” he said, a glint in his eye.

“I know. Even though they’ve both sort of come around to us being together, Dad never has anything nice to say about Beck.”

“And Beck practically spits fire every time I mention Ben.”

“He couldn’t even bring himself to compliment the furniture when we showed him those pictures. You could tell he loved it, though, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.” We laughed into a kiss. We kissed a lot, even in the private lab, and even though Erin had expressly told us displays of affection were absolutely not allowed in the workplace. It was one of a few rules that Erin had imposed on me and her boss when we notified her that we were dating. She acted very displeased as we explained the situation, but she, and most everyone in the company, had warmed to the idea, or had at least gotten used to us being together. More than one person had thanked me and told me they could tell Anson was much happier. Seeing how much they cared about him filled my heart.

The first time I’d reached for Anson in his private lab, he’d pushed me away. “This is your private lab,” I purred as I stalked him until his back was against a counter. His hands found my waist, like they always did, but he leaned back as I chased his lips. “No one can see us down here,” I reminded him.

“Beck has access.” Beck having access was something I’d had to get used to in general when it came to my boyfriend. Beck and Anson were a team; they had worked together for years and built an amazing company. They were true partners and true friends, and Beck was as protective of Anson and his genius as I was.

“If Beck decides to barge in on us, that’s on him.” I pressed against Anson until my lips found his. I didn’t fulfill my fantasy of bending him over a lab table that evening, but I did get on my knees for him, drowning in the delicious sounds he made until his hot seed shot down my throat.

I may have been thinking about that evening when I pulled back from Anson’s embrace and started to sink to my knees on a snowy Boston night a few days before Christmas.

“You don’t need to … We have all night, B.”

“Or maybe two, A. So, plenty of time for me to suck you off.”

Anson growled as his hands tucked in under my armpits, keeping me upright. He leaned in to kiss me but not before saying, “Not what I want,” centimeters from my lips.

We kissed some more before Anson found my hand and walked us over to the living room, where he sat me on his big, inviting couch before he slipped out of the room.

“Be right back,” he muttered.

I jumped up after he left and flicked the blanket that was neatly folded on one of the armchairs, placing it on the couch before quickly stripping out of my clothes.

I was standing in front of the fireplace, stroking myself, when Anson returned with a bottle of lube. I had joked with Anson over our months together that he should invest in an end table for the living room so we’d have a place to hide lube. He had looked at me, appalled at the time. “What if someone found it?” he’d asked.

“You mean, what if Beck found it? I swear that man is wound so tight it might make his head explode to think about us having S.E.X,” I’d whispered, “on your fancy white couch.”

I remembered that conversation as Anson took me in, my eyebrows jumping. “We’re gonna have sex on your fancy-ass couch.”

“You mean S.E.X on my fancy white couch.” Sometimes I forgot Anson’s powers of recall.