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TATE

M y friends put things like “Visit Italy” and “Run a Marathon” on their bucket lists. On my bucket list?

Fuck my insanely hot boss.

It’s been on my list for two years, ever since I interviewed for an executive assistant position and sat across from Bill Crandell. Most of the executives I’ve worked for were really old, or in really bad shape, or just really awful human beings. Bill is none of those things.

He’s only about nine years older than me. Not “about.” I know when his birthday is. He’s eight years, seven months, and two days older than me. He makes forty-four look good.

He regularly hits the gym and keeps it tight. And now that he’s joining a recreational hockey league, he’ll have some sexy bruises, too. I haven’t even mentioned the team bonding exercise where we had to go ziplining, and I clocked his hulking package in his harness.

And lastly, Bill may be stern and serious, but he’s a good person. He knows the names of all the support staff and janitorial staff. He regularly meets with entry- and mid-level employees to provide mentorship. He is the only executive who puts his coffee cup in the communal dishwasher rather than leaving it in the sink. Nobody wants to fuck an asshole.

Most importantly, he’s a great dad. The way he lights up when someone so much as mentions Rowan melts me from the inside out. I don’t know what happened with his ex-wife or his own parents. It’s one of the few things about his life he keeps close to the vest. But whatever happened, it wasn’t good, and he’s making sure to be absolutely present for Rowan as much as possible.

I think anyone working for someone as sexy and all-around wonderful as Bill Crandell would want to fuck him, too. For two years, I’ve had fantasies about what he could do to me in his office. Those daydreams have only intensified in the past year when I found gay porn on his personal computer. It made those passing glances at my ass not something I was imagining in my head. (Which inspired me to wear an even tighter wardrobe) Once I figured out he was batting for my team, at least part-time, I started to believe I had a shot.

Of course, being a professional and a gay man, I’m an expert at suppressing my true feelings. I never let my lust for Bill meddle in my work. I never hinted at my attraction to him.

Until tonight.

Bill’s eyes pop open. They’re as dark as his neatly trimmed beard, and they pop against his light skin. “What did you just ask me, Tate?”

“I want to have sex with you, Bill.” I push down the nerves crawling up my throat. I have to sound totally confident or else this will backfire. And I should be confident. I have nothing to lose.

I need to shoot my shot. It’s now or never.

Bill stands up and walks as far away from me as the suite will allow. “You can’t–you can’t ask me that, Tate.”

I’m not used to seeing Bill this flustered. Even when he’s nervous or unsettled, he maintains an air of calm. He’s a man that knows how to stay in control. And all I want on this snowy evening is for him to control me.

“I think you want to,” I say.

His mouth hangs open, but he doesn’t respond. “Where is this coming from?”

My dick jumps. He didn’t say no.

“Shit…there wasn’t a mixup with booking the hotel reservation. You planned this.” He rakes a hand through his thick, luscious hair.

“I might have. I didn’t plan the blizzard or the flight cancellation, though. That was…” I want to say fate, but it doesn’t feel right. Fate is for romance, and I’m definitely not here for that. “That was luck.”

As I watched the snow fall at the airport and saw our flight get more and more delayed, the idea came together in my head. And what better place to live out my fantasy than in a gorgeous suite in downtown Chicago?

“How much did you drink at the airport lounge?”

“I had a few tequila sunrises. But it’s not the alcohol.”

He paces by the window. He seems more nervous than me, but it’s not the scared type of nervous. He’s not looking to the door and panicking. And frankly, if he really wanted out of here, he could easily pick me up and throw me against the wall and leave.

I walk into the living room area. Close, but still giving him space. “Bill, I’m going to be honest with you. You’re the most attractive guy I’ve ever known. By a mile. You are so sexy, I’m shocked I’m able to get any work done.” I let out a laugh. The more I speak, the more emboldened I feel. “For two years, I’ve dreamed about getting fucked by you. About you pushing me to my knees and shoving your big cock in my mouth. About you throwing me on your desk and banging me into next Tuesday.”

My dick swells in my pants. Saying these fantasies aloud makes them ten times sexier. Bill’s eyes go wide. I notice that he’s standing behind the armchair, hiding his crotch from view.

“I’m not looking for love. I don’t have some creepy crush on you. This is just about sex. We could both use a good fucking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Bill, I have access to your calendar. You barely go on dates, and when you do, you come to work the next morning completely unfazed. No goofy, distracted smile. No ‘I just got laid’ vibes.” As an executive assistant, it’s my job to know my boss. And I know with ninety-nine percent accuracy that it’s been a while since he’s gotten some.

“Cards on the table, my sex life isn’t great either,” I continue. My ex-boyfriend called me boring in bed. Really, he was the boring one. He only wanted me doggy style so he could watch porn while we had sex. Like others before him, he had no problem making me feel like shit and stepping on my heart, but Bill doesn’t need to know that. Tonight isn’t about hearts.

“I know you like checking out my ass. And I’ve seen the porn on your computer. I know you have a wild side, or at least wild fantasies.” I lick my lips, desperately wanting to taste him. “We’re in a new place for one night. The rules don’t apply. Let’s fuck each other’s brains out.”

Bill doesn’t move, so I approach the armchair and put a relaxed hand on his thick forearm. I hold his gaze, something I tried to do earlier tonight. He’s not moving. He’s not running. His dark eyes narrow at me, but I know Bill well enough to know that isn’t always a bad thing.

He pulls me flush against him. His hard cock presses into my leg, the ultimate temptation. He tightens his grip on my arm, his biceps flexing under his dress shirt.

“This is deeply inappropriate,” he says in a low growl. “This is like twenty HR violations.”

“It won’t matter tomorrow,” I whisper.

He loosens his grip on my arm and lets his hands travel down my back, stopping just above my ass. The heat of his body makes me dizzy with want. I nudge myself closer against him, letting his cock poke me harder.

“I know you want to.” I get on my tiptoes, which allow his hands to make contact with my ass. I can feel the relief quiver in his muscular chest as he squeezes my cheeks. I nuzzle my nose against his well-groomed beard, the prickly stubbles sizzling on my skin.

“I’m going to make you come so hard. I can’t wait to get fucked by you.”

Sensing an opening, I drift my hand between us. It brushes against his cock. I reach out to give it a good grab and feel its girth when the familiar chimes of a Zoom call blare from his computer.

Bill steps back. He beelines to the bed to collect his computer.

“We can’t, Tate. We just can’t.” He sits on the bed and takes the biggest cleansing breath imaginable before joining the call.