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“Sounds like a knight to me.”
“Sounds like someone who doesn’t know how to play chess.”
Lance has all but given up on me, lying in the grass again with his head cradled on his front paws, staring at me with bored, lazy eyes. I bite my lip and consider my next metaphorical move. Do I bring out my queen, or do I let my pawn take an unassuming step forward to prepare for a sexual ambush?
A tone of sincerity touches his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I agree, like a promise.
He hangs up, and I let the phone drop into my pocket. Lance is up in an instant as I cross the terrace toward the door, and then the pair of us bound back inside. While Lance lounges on the couch to watch TV (or stare at the wall or wait for cat commercials or whatever dogs really do), I plant myself in a bar stool and whip out my laptop, figuring I’ll catch up on some work.
When I’m about to plug my laptop power cord into the wall, I stop, staring at the three metal prongs and the socket, and recall something I’d thought before.
The socket is Trevor.
I am the plug. The very hard, throbbing, power-hungry plug.
The next minute, I’m upstairs on my bed flat on my back, legs spread, pants off, and feverishly jerking my steel-hard dick. So much for working tonight.
29
Trevor notices some office tension.
The tension is in my pants, by the way.
And, when the following week arrives, it only intensifies.
With each passing workday, whether I’m at the intern table or among the office computers, Ben makes it a point to stroll by, looking so damned proud of himself and greeting everyone by name. “Isaac. Caleb. Trevor.” His eyes linger on mine a bit too long, giving me the chance to catch that all-familiar glint of humor in them as he disappears into his office.
He’s clearly taken what I said to heart.
“Can you get me an intern to look over these numbers?” asks Ben one afternoon to Rebekah, loudly enough for me to hear. “I prefer someone with a good eye. Someone sharp. Someone who’s not let me down yet.” Then he casually looks my way and gives a nod. “Trevor, perhaps.”
“Yes, sir,” says Rebekah at once, and then I get a new task.
And when I turn in the corrected numbers to him, Ben gives me a twinkly-eyed nod and a curt, “Thank you,” before hopping back into his office like a proud puppy who’s found a bone.
Each day that passes, I catch myself having to stifle my laugh in the presence of my peers for fear of giving away any secret thing going on between Mr. Gage and I—especially when he peers at me from across the office, thinks no one’s looking, then gives me some totally out-of-character, attitude-filled chin-lift, or one of his superior, cocky smirks, or decides to pose suggestively against whatever desk he’s near, deliberately poking out his butt in my direction.
This third week as an intern at Gage Communications, I learn a very important lesson: Benjamin Gage is a super skilled cock tease.
I seriously underestimated him. When I’m seated at one of the computers, innocently doing my work, he comes to check on one of his employees seated at the computer right next to mine, and when he does so, he leans into their computer with obscene demonstrativeness, putting his tight ass right at eyelevel with me while I’m trying to work. He has no shame about it either; the total dick that is Benjamin shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he innocuously inspects the employee’s work, and I have to fight to keep all my attention on my computer screen and not take a big bite out of that sexy butt hovering in my peripheral. Ben gets so daring that he leans his ass close enough to my face that I could literally lean on it like a second head cushion to my office chair. I have no doubt it’ll be twenty times more comfortable.
I guess this kind of childishness is what I signed up for when I decided to screw around with the boss.
The week flies by fast, and the following weekend, even faster. Elijah occupies me for every minute of it, despite my wanting to make plans with Ben. It’s bothersome, but Benjamin and I both knew we’d have to let things cool down for a bit until we have more allowance to sneak around our respective obstacles.
My main obstacle: my roommate Elijah, who totally promised me not to mess with Ashlee if I don’t mess with whoever it is I did the dingy-dingy with in the bathroom.
My roommate, who I am terribly, horribly, utterly lying to.
Is it a good or bad thing that my devotion—if that isn’t too creepy and dramatic a word to use—to Benjamin is so strong, I’d deceive my best friend, hop around behind his back, and have little to no reservations about it?
