Page 32 of Tech Bros

“It was…unexpected.”

“Okay.” I start to rise, but he holds me down. “Evan. It was just a date.”

“Adate?”

“Does it matter?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Does it?”

Isaac is one of those people who’s usually super easy to read. If he weren’t, I never would have initiated anything with him. When he wants something, it’s written all over his face. Right now, he looks torn. Agonized. If a date is just a date, that shouldn’t change anything between him and me. It never has before. If he’s lying, and it was more than just a date, then he really shouldn’t have his hand on me, and he shouldn’t be looking at me like he’s trying to decide whether to kiss me or have a nervous breakdown.

He swallows so hard, I hear it. “You look so nice today,” he says quietly, his thumb reaching up to stroke the skin on my neck.

“Thanks for noticing.”

“I always notice,” he whispers.

“Do I need to go?” I ask.

“No. You’re perfect.” His fingertips graze the edge of my hairline. “Please don’t go.”

I shift toward my side, giving him a better view of my chest. Reaching toward him, I trace a finger down the center of his light gray button down, a signal I’m interested if he is. My dick is confused though. Semi-hard and undecided about whether it should bother with getting any harder. Some of my excitement upon coming into his office has flagged, doused by his indecision. “This is my favorite shirt,” I lie. I don’t actually have a favorite thing he wears because he looks good in everything.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice still so soft. Serious. Too serious.

I wasn’t trying to turn this into a whole thing, I just—wanted to make sure we were okay. That nothing has changed. But I’m pretty sure something has. “Can I have my horny boss back, please?”

“Evan…”

I’m actively fighting the urge to be sick. “What?”

He gives his head a small shake and clears his throat. “Yes.” He takes his hand off me so he can unbuckle his belt.

I watch while I wait for my instructions.

“Pants down,” he says, and I barely hesitate.

9

ISAAC

Evan rides my lap in small circles and erotic tilts of his hips like he’s spelling something out on my cock. Whatever word it is, I hope it never ends. His elbows are braced on the desk in front of us while I stroke his smooth outer thighs obsessively. I’m bent over his back, cheek resting against his spine and breathing heavy while he works my dick with his expert ass.

The desire to touch him everywhere is building, but I’m afraid to hold him too hard. I want to cling, and scratch. I want to leave marks. I want his cock heavy in my hand and hot. I want to know that I do for him half of what he does for me.That he feels something.

I’m not sure why I’m barely touching him other than I’m more overwhelmed than usual.

He scared me today. He’s been scaring me all week if I’m being honest. He’s made himself harder to get, and I have to respect his boundaries. I am his employer, after all, and there are too many lines we’ve already crossed. Some he doesn’t even know about. The fact that I would kill for one kiss from him is a good example.

One kiss, and we wouldn’t even need to have the conversation Deacon was telling me I should have. One kiss, and Evan would know exactly how I feel about him. One kiss, and I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from saying it—I love you. It’s you.

“Touch me.” He makes a mindless grab for one of my hands. It’s a demanding move from him, but I’m here for it.

I grab his cock, pleased to find it leaking and rock hard.

“Mmm…” He groans as I wrap my hand around it.

My head turns, forehead digging into his back as my mouth drops open with how good he feels—everywhere.Perfect. God, he’s so fuckingperfect.