Page 62 of Forbidden Hockey

“I can arrange it, but do you really want me to do that?”

“No. He’d be suspicious. That he hasn’t told me to quit working here is a miracle in and of itself. I can see it in his eyes. It got dangerously close to that territory when Hunt pointed out that not only are you Dash’s dad and twenty years my senior, but you’re my boss, too. Never even thought of that. We’re three levels of forbidden.” He laughs.

“Why didn’t you think of the boss part?”

“Um, so don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t feel like my boss. Even before, I always considered you a friend.”

“I’m totes offended,” I say with a hand on my heart.

“No. Nuh-uh. No one says ‘totes’ anymore. Don’teversay that again.”

“Not true. Just heard one of the hostees use it last week.”

“Yeah, ironically.”

That’s one thing I’ve never been able to wrap my head around, the whole “ironically” thing.

“I’m from the generation where we do what we want. How about that?”

“They’ll make fun of you.”

“I’m the boss. Everyone makes fun of the boss.”

“I don’t,” he says with all the earnestness in the world.

“That’s because you don’t think of me as your boss, even though I am,” I insist.

“Whatever you say, Trav.” He’s not buying it. “I’ll need my shoe back. I am not setting my bare foot on that fucking floor. It’s worse than a hockey locker room.”

“It shouldn’t be,” I say, helping him back into his clothes. “The bussers are supposed to mop back here each night.”

I pick his shoe off the floor and slide it on him.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but I’ve never seen that happen.”

With his shoe on, he slides off the counter, pulling up his clothes. I do the same with mine, catching him in the act of taking a last look at my cock. I’m proud to say it’s still sporting a semi.

“You’re a manager, you’re supposed to make sure that happens, Dirk.”

“I’ve been kitchen manager more than floor manager,” he says, thinking he’s got a point.

I’m too high on pleasure to chase after him for it now, especially when I have to say goodbye, but I’m saving that one for later. We can play a little game called Misbehaved Manager that’ll involve me taking a belt to his ass before I suck him.

He’s seriously blissed out and ruined, and I’m the one pouting now. “How far away are we from convincing your brother?”

“At the moment? We’ll be making first contact with aliens from another planet before he’ll accept our relationship.” He shoves a hand down the back pocket of my jeans. “I like this, even getting to do this kind of thing and touch you as I please. I’ve wanted this for so damn long.”

The gratefulness shines in his eyes.

“Okay, pretty boy. Go home before I keep you anyway.”

Watching him leave is hard tonight. Cold. Like he’s taken a piece of me with him.

Chapter

Nine

Dirk