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And in the bedroom.
Shaking my head, I smirked to myself, and Dad returned the look with a smile, not knowing what was going on in my head. It’s best he doesn’t know. While Dad had no issue with my sexuality, I doubted he needed to know I was imagining getting fucked by the very architect he was looking to hire.
After a buzz from reception and an acknowledgment through the intercom from Dad, I pushed myself from the table and straightened, brushing my hands over my shirt and preparing to come face to face with the man from the magazines.
But when the door clicked open, it wasn’t Frank standing there but his partner and co-CEO, Mike Conner.
Andfuck.
While Mike was greeting my father, all easy smiles and firm handshakes, I gave myself a moment to trail my gaze over his body. It was near impossible to tell how old he was, only the silvering of his hair any indication of age, but his face was mostly line-free, and his shirt, while clearly expensive, fit around his arms, exposing a hint of some serious muscle. He looked like the sort who would leave his shirt unbuttoned a few at the top and sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, which is one of the sexiest looks a man in a suit can have, by the way.
But maybe that was more Frank’s deal because Mike’s shirt was buttoned up to the neck, held in place with a navy tie, and his shirt was buttoned neatly at his wrists, with what looked like custom-engraved cufflinks glinting in the light as he shook Dad’s hand.
My breath caught in my chest. I ground my teeth and stared at the ceiling for a moment, admonishing myself for looking at this man with anything other than a professional interest.
How long had it been since I’d been laid? Not that long, surely.
But then again, I’d recently restored the transmission on my Ford, not to mention rebuilding the engine, and I hadn’t been out much during that time.
Damn. Okay, so it’d been a few months.
When I returned my gaze to the men greeting each other, I was startled to find Mike’s eyes on mine, as though he’d been waiting for me to look back at him.
As though he could read my earlier thoughts.
Forcing control of myself so as not to blush like a schoolboy, I took a few purposeful steps forward and held out my hand. Mike took it without breaking eye contact and introduced himself. It was a beat too late before I realized I hadn’t given him my name, and my father hastily introduced me to Mike. There was a presence about him that filled the room from the moment he stepped through the doors, and I couldn’t drag my eyes from his, a deep stone-gray flecked with brown. Stunning. Despite his smirk, I refused to let myself be embarrassed at being unable to find the power to speak. He simply dominated the space between us and might as well have backed me against a wall and pressed his body to mine rather than shaking my hand with the way we were looking at each other.
I’m surprised literal sparks weren’t coming off our hands.
Letting go of my hand, Mike nodded and smiled an award-winning smile, much like Frank’s. But where Frank held confidence and arrogance, Mike was of sophistication. And perhaps, just below the surface, danger and possessiveness because I could absolutely picture those hands wrapping around my throat.
Fuck.
“Thank you for your time today,” Mike said. He was directing the line at my father but hadn’t taken his eyes from mine. I was the first to look away and added on a step backward, clearing the air around me of his intoxicating scent so I could at least concentrate.
“Of course, Mike, we’ve worked together before, so it’s only fair we give you first crack at the new contract.” With a wave of his hand, Dad guided Mike and me to sit at the small round table near the window, and as Mike unpacked his briefcase, Dad continued, “I hope you don’t mind Jacob sitting in today. He’s interested in coming into the family business as it were.” He let go another chuckle, and I managed a weak smile, one that Mike did not return when he met my eyes, and the sound was sucked from my throat.
“I see,” he crooned. Something in his face told me he knew I hadzerointerest in the family business, and while I wasn’t a fan of being read so easily, I held his eye contact as long as I could. Mike continued, “It’s not a problem at all. I’d be interested in his take on the design, since he’s likely to have a fresher look.”
Dad guffawed. “Kids these days, eh?”
I had no idea what he meant by that, and I arched an eyebrow at him, casting a sideways glance to see Mike chuckling under his breath politely.Kidsseemed a bit of a stretch, but whatever. Businessmen were a breed of their own. You could say any old rubbish, and the other would be expected to laugh along, creating a false rapport that would come crashing down the second one of them left the building.
Unfolding several large sheets of paper on the table in front of us, Mike spun them around and using a pen, pointed out the features. As always, the interior had a hint of gothic architecture, while the outside was swept with clean lines—a perfect combination between functionality and aesthetic allure.
Dad was impressed, and given that his poker face was terrible, Mike must have known it. But there was no smug grin, simply the continued charisma of a businessman in his element. Watching his hands slide across the paperwork, his sleeve hitched up slightly to expose his wrist, and I frowned.
There’s an extreme form of body augmentation called scarification, and while I’d never seen it in person, that’s exactly what the marks on Mike’s wrist looked like. An intentionally created scar to create an artwork of some sort, although I couldn’t tell what from the small snippet that was offered. A tattoo wouldn’t have surprised me, they were hardly taboo anymore, but scarification stunned me for a moment, and my gaze lingered longer than it should have. Long enough for Mike to notice and subtly pull down his sleeve and adjust the cufflink, although he didn’t look at me after that for the remainder of the meeting, and I wondered if I’d discovered some secret part of him he didn’t want anyone to know about.
The thought was enticing, and Ididwant to know more.
The meeting concluded with another round of handshakes, and since I needed to be getting back to work myself, I offered to walk Mike out of the building. He smiled at me before a snippet of a frown flashed on his face, followed by a hesitation in his movements. Was hethatbothered I had seen the marks on his arm?
Stepping into the elevator alone with Mike sent the temperature up ninety degrees, or that’s what it felt like.
“So…” Mike said, leaning against the side of the elevator, “… you want to follow in your father’s footsteps?”
I smiled for a moment before it dropped, and I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “To be honest, not really.”
