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“I couldn’t care less what you think of my taste. And here’s what I think of yours.” Edison turned the bag upside down and dumped the shredded tie all over the clean desk. He didn’t stop there, even though he was enjoying the appalled expression twisting Skylar’s face. Edison took two hundred-dollar bills and a fifty out of his wallet and slammed it on top of the pile of rubbish. “Now. You can’t say you’ve ever given me a thing.”

Skylar rolled his eyes. “Must you be so dramatic?”

“Must you be such a two-faced backstabbing jackal?”

“My ears are burning at those harsh names, Edison. Gosh you’re such a square… I don’t even know why I bother.” Skylar picked up the crisp bills. “That tie was two eighty-seven at Macy’s.”

“Then you overpaid, idiot.” Edison was done with this conversation, and most of all he was done with Skylar. “This is your last warning, Skylar.”

“Or else what?” Skylar leaned over his desk, glaring defiantly.

“You’re creating an uncomfortable work environment for me and disrupting the production of my department. I’ll tell Presley Alfred that it either has to be me…” Edison leaned in to match Skylar’s intimidation. “Or you. Now who do you think she’s going to choose?”

Skylar clamped his mouth shut and rocked back in his chair.

“I thought so,” Edison said before he turned and walked out of the door, closing it forcefully behind him.

He made the short walk back to his office and locked the door. All he wanted to do now was go home, take a bottle of aspirin, drink a gallon of water, and go to bed.

~

Edison let out the heaviest sigh of relief in his life when he saw Bishop’s truck in his driveway when he got home at seven thirty. He’d wanted to get off earlier, but a man could dream. He sat in his car for a few seconds, loosening his tie, finally able to breathe. It felt as if he’d been holding his breath for days. Edison didn’t go through the back gate, instead he unlocked his front door and went inside to drop his bag and remove his jacket. He thought for a moment that maybe he should start leaving a key under the mat for Bishop for times like this, but he stored that thought away for later. He felt jittery when he pulled the vertical blinds to the side and saw Bishop’s rigid form standing in front of the weeping willow at the far end of his yard. He looked so big and imposing from the back in his boots, dark blue jeans and black T-shirt. Not flashy in the least way, but Bishop’s dark and brooding stature demanded attention.

Edison unlatched the lock and stepped out into the warm evening air. His breathing became labored when Bishop didn’t turn around. Edison continued to approach him from behind, sure that Bishop had heard him open and close his patio door. He took a chance and wrapped his arms around Bishop’s waist and pressed his cheek to the base of his neck. Bishop’s short hairs tickled his forehead when he leaned in to press a small kiss there.

Bishop finally relaxed and leaned into Edison’s chest, and he thought he’d weep as he held Bishop tighter. For a moment, he thought he’d lost this. Neither of them said anything, and Edison didn’t think they needed to. He’d put it all out there in the video last night—his insecurities, his real wants and his promises. Bishop being at his home had to mean he’d accepted it.

He inched away and clutched Bishop’s shoulder, urging him to face him, needing to see his expressive eyes. Bishop slowly spun around, his big hands coming up and cupping both of Edison’s cheeks. He placed his hand over Bishop’s warm skin and couldn’t help turning and pressing a kiss in the center of his rough palm. He heard Bishop’s sharp inhale and tilted his head back, begging for Bishop’s mouth. It’d been days, too long since he’d been feasted on. And as if Bishop could sense what he wanted, he ducked his head and pressed his lips against his.

Edison moaned, his mouth falling open, and Bishop took full advantage of his weakness. He clutched at Bishop’s waist, pulling his lower body closer. The growl that filled Edison’s mouth made him shiver, despite the beads of sweat forming on his brow. Bishop’s tongue was hot and demanding all of Edison’s flavor, and he was more than happy to share it.

Bishop was the first to come up for air, but Edison didn’t let him move as he feathered kisses along his throat and jaw. Firm hands ran up and down his back before he was pulled into a tight hug. Bishop tucked his head close and hugged him as if Edison had just come back from a deployment. He wondered if Bishop had been just as upset as he’d been last night. He wouldn’t ask because he didn’t want to dwell on that any longer. Never again would he let anyone come between them. When one of Bishop’s hands grazed over his ass and kneaded him through his dress pants, he immediately wanted to make up for what he’d missed last night.

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