Page 12 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
Eight
MATT
M att’s office was a whirlwind of activity late into the night.
Paperwork covered every inch of his sleek mahogany desk, and his computer screen flickered with a constant stream of emails and reports.
Despite the late hour, he remained laser-focused, his eyes scanning each document with razor-sharp precision.
His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, composing emails and issuing commands to his various enterprises.
The hum of activity never ceased; even at this late hour, deals were being made.
Matt’s empire was ever-expanding, and he thrived on the thrill of the hunt, the sweet taste of conquest. With each stroke of his pen, fortunes shifted, and empires rose and fell at his command.
A deep breath broke his concentration. A satisfied smirk played on his lips as he stretched his powerful frame, the muscles in his broad shoulders rippling beneath his crisp white dress shirt.
The digital clock on his desk read 1:17 a.m. It was time to call it a night.
He gathered the documents scattered around him, straightening them into a neat pile before standing up.
The walk to his penthouse was a short one.
When he entered, silence greeted him—except for the faint sound of breathing.
Andy lay sprawled on the bed, clad only in a shirt that had ridden up, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs.
His feet dangled off the edge of the mattress, toes just grazing the floor.
Matt shook his head in amusement, his eyes drinking in the alluring sight before him.
Without a second thought, he crossed the room and scooped Andy up in his powerful arms. Andy stirred but didn’t wake, nestling unconsciously against Matt’s chest. For a moment, Matt stood still, relishing the way the younger man’s weight felt so natural, so right against his chest.
Gently, he deposited Andy onto the bed, arranging his limp form amid the plush sheets and downy pillows. For a moment, Matt allowed himself to linger, his gaze tracing the delicate lines of Andy’s features, the slight parting of those full lips.
Reluctantly tearing himself away, Matt headed for the shower, shedding his clothes as the steam filled the room. Under the cascade of hot water, his thoughts drifted to his proposition to Andy.
Matt wanted Andy, craved him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
No one else would do. But it was more than just physical desire; he saw the potential in Andy’s ideas, the way James had seen it too.
This app could disrupt the market, become the next big thing, and Matt wanted to be a part of that success.
Andy was an investment, a package deal that Matt couldn’t pass up. As the water sluiced over his sculpted form, he made a decision. He would give Andy a couple of days to mull over his offer, to truly understand the opportunity laid before him.
Then Matt would demand an answer, one way or another. Because in his world, he always got what he wanted—and what he wanted was Andy Donovan.
Matt stepped out of the shower, his skin still warm and damp. He pulled on a pair of silk pajama pants, forgoing a shirt in the balmy night air. As he approached the bed, his eyes locked on to Andy’s sleeping form, and he couldn’t help but pause, drinking in the sight.
Andy’s dark hair fanned out over the pillow in tousled waves, framing his face in a way that made him look impossibly soft and vulnerable.
His thick lashes fanned over his cheekbones, lush enough to make any woman jealous.
Matt’s eyes traced the gentle curve of Andy’s parted lips, that perfect pout that was just begging to be kissed.
An inexplicable warmth bloomed in Matt’s chest as he watched the younger man sleep.
Andy looked so peaceful, so achingly beautiful in that moment.
Matt found himself wondering, not for the first time, what it was about this young man that affected him so profoundly.
He was captivated, utterly enthralled by Andy’s presence in a way he couldn’t quite rationalize.
With a soft sigh, Matt slipped beneath the sheets beside Andy’s sleeping form. He couldn’t resist the urge to be closer, to feel the heat radiating from that lithe body. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Matt draped an arm over Andy’s waist, pulling the younger man flush against his chest.
A soft whimper escaped Andy’s lips, and Matt frowned, his brow furrowing with concern.
Andy’s face contorted, his features pinched as if he were trapped in the throes of a nightmare.
Without hesitation, Matt tightened his embrace, cradling Andy’s frame against his own as tremors racked the younger man’s body.
Tears leaked from the corners of Andy’s tightly shut eyes, and Matt felt a pang in his chest. What sort of terrors plagued Andy’s dreams? Was it the looming debt, the fear of what Matt might demand of him? Or was it something deeper, darker—ghosts from Andy’s past that continued to haunt him?
Gently, Matt brushed the tears from Andy’s cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
He murmured soft, soothing words, his deep voice a reassuring rumble against Andy’s ear.
Gradually, the younger man’s cries quieted, his body relaxing into the protective circle of Matt’s arms. With a heavy sigh, Matt allowed his own eyes to drift shut.
When Matt woke next, the predawn stillness of the room was palpable, yet a sensation prickled at the back of his neck—the distinct feeling of being watched. Despite his instincts screaming to confront the observer, he suppressed the urge and kept his breathing steady, feigning sleep.
His heart thrummed in his chest, not from alarm but anticipation.
He knew Andy was studying him with an intensity that was almost palpable.
That thought coaxed a smirk to dance at the corner of his mouth, hidden by the pretense of slumber.
The thought of those gold-brown eyes roving over his features, drinking in every chiseled line and rugged angle, sent a delicious thrill skittering down Matt’s spine.
Matt remained perfectly still, his muscles lax and pliant as he waited with bated breath to see what Andy would do next. The anticipation built with every passing second, a delicious tension crackling between their bodies like an electric current.
A shift in the mattress alerted him to movement. Warm breath ghosted over his face, and Matt fought to maintain the illusion of deep sleep. The distance between them evaporated until Andy’s presence hovered just inches above him.
Then Matt felt the slightest brush of fingertips against his skin—soft and tentative at first, then growing bolder as they traced the sharp line of his nose, the cutting angles of his cheekbones and jaw.
A shiver of pleasure rippled through him at the featherlight caress, but still, he didn’t move, didn’t give any indication that he was awake and acutely aware of Andy’s exploration.
Those inquisitive fingers danced across Matt’s face with reverent wonder, mapping out every contour and plane as if committing each detail to memory. Matt’s pulse quickened as Andy’s touch drifted lower, tracing the fullness of his lips with maddening slowness.
A spark of heat ignited low in Matt’s belly, desire coiling tight and insistent within him. He wanted—no, needed—to feel those soft lips against his own, to taste the sweetness of Andy’s mouth and sate the gnawing hunger that had been building since the moment he first laid eyes on the younger man.
Matt’s breath caught in his throat as Andy’s face dipped closer, their bodies separated by a mere whisper of space. He could feel the warmth of Andy’s exhalations ghosting over his parted lips, could practically taste the heady anticipation that hung thick in the air between them.
And then, fuck, the exquisite pressure of Andy’s mouth against his own—soft and tentative at first, like the brush of a butterfly’s wing.
But there was a hunger there, simmering just beneath the surface, and Matt felt it in the way Andy’s lips moved with increasing fervor against his own.
It was a kiss that wasn’t part of any deal or negotiation—a kiss that felt dangerously close to real.
It took every ounce of Matt’s willpower not to surge up and deepen the kiss, to capture Andy’s plush bottom lip between his teeth and drink in those sweet, breathy whimpers. Instead, he remained motionless, allowing Andy to set the pace, to explore and savor to his heart’s content.
Because this—Andy’s bold move, his unrestrained desire laid bare—was everything Matt had been hoping for. With that single, searing kiss, Andy had sealed both of their fates, binding them together in a way that could never be undone.
Then, just as Matt prepared to open his eyes fully, Andy jerked back with lightning quickness, rolling over and feigning sleep once more. The sudden absence of warmth left Matt cold, a pang of loss echoing in the space where Andy had been.
Matt’s brows hiked in surprise—the kid was fast, he’d give him that. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. So Andy wanted to play coy, did he? As if Matt couldn’t see right through that paper-thin charade.
Amusement danced in Matt’s eyes as he studied Andy’s features, taking in the delicate fan of those long lashes, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He looked so goddamn innocent like this, peaceful and untroubled in the warm cocoon of the sheets.
With a deliberate slowness meant to unnerve, Matt shifted closer until the hard lines of his body bracketed Andy’s slighter frame. He could feel the younger man’s sharp intake of breath, the subtle tensing of his muscles as he fought to maintain the illusion of sleep.
A deep, rumbling chuckle spilled from Matt’s lips. “Nice try, pup,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
Reaching out, Matt brushed a stray lock of silken hair from Andy’s forehead, letting his fingertips linger against the younger man’s warm skin.
Unable to resist, Matt leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Andy’s brow, smirking against the smooth skin as he felt the younger man’s sharp inhalation.
“Maybe next time,” he purred, his words a heated caress against Andy’s hairline.
With a regretful sigh, Matt forced himself to pull away, already mourning the loss of Andy’s warmth against him. As much as he would have loved to spend the entire day lavishing attention on that lithe, delectable body, he had business to attend to—deals to broker, empires to conquer.
Planting one last kiss to the corner of Andy’s mouth, Matt rolled out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin with each powerful stride.
Moments later, he stepped out of the steaming shower, a plush towel slung low around his hips.
Crossing the bedroom, Matt couldn’t resist shooting a heated look in Andy’s direction, who was still feigning sleep.
Leaning down, Matt braced one hand on the mattress beside Andy’s head, his breath fanning over the younger man’s face.
“You can quit the act,” he murmured. “I know you’re awake.”
Andy didn’t so much as twitch, keeping up the pretense of slumber. Matt’s lips quirked in a lopsided grin. Stubborn little minx.
Unable to resist, Matt leaned in until their faces were a hair’s breadth apart. He could taste the warmth of Andy’s breath, could smell that intoxicating blend of shower gel and warm skin. Slowly, deliberately, he brushed his lips across the apple of Andy’s cheek in a featherlight caress.
“We’ll pick this up later,” he promised in a heated whisper. “And I expect an answer about my proposal.” A wolfish grin curved his mouth. “Although, I think I already know what it’ll be.”
With that, Matt straightened and strode toward the closet, every movement exuding a predatory grace.
He could feel the weight of Andy’s gaze on him as he dressed, pulling on a crisp white shirt and expertly knotting his tie.
Next came the charcoal suit pants, tailored to hug the powerful lines of his thighs and calves.
Finally, Matt shrugged into the matching jacket, the fine wool stretching taut across the broad expanse of his shoulders. A quick glance in the mirror, and he was satisfied—the image of a man in complete control, powerful and commanding.
Turning on his heel, Matt shot Andy one last smoldering look, his eyes roving over the younger man’s prone form. “I’ll be back for you later, pup,” he rumbled, a wicked glint in his eye.
With that, he turned and strode from the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him with a sense of finality. Matt could have sworn he felt the heat of Andy’s gaze on him until the very last second, burning through the door like a brand.