Spencer lets out a soft, rumbling chuckle that goes straight to my balls. “That was Felicity. We were on our way to the draft night for our fantasy football league.”
“Okay…I guess that’s a logical explanation…” I have no idea whether to be relieved or disappointed right now. I mean, I really shouldn’t be, but I can’t help feeling over the fucking moon to know that Spencer’s not involved with either of those women. At the same time, however, it had been hot as hell imagining Spencer as the kind of guy who likes to be dominated, so having that illusion shattered is a bit of a bummer. “Right,” I say with an awkward jerk of my head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” I let out a soft chuckle in an attempt to ease some of the tension. “It was ridiculous. Obviously, you’re not someone who would like that kind of thing.”
“What kind of thing?” he asks, one eyebrow arched in challenge. He so knows what I’m talking about but he’s going to make me spell it out.
“You know…being gagged. And submitting and stuff.”
The corner of Spencer’s mouth curves into what I can only describe as a sly grin. He leans closer to me and talks into my ear, his gravelly voice sending shudders through me as he says, “Don’t go making assumptions, now, Will.”
9
Spencer
* * *
Will might think his little speech in the limo the other day worked to clear the air, but it didn’t. If anything, it’s polluted the air with so many more sexy vibes I’m practically choking.
I really shouldn’t have said what I did about not making assumptions; hinting to him about the kinds of things I’m interested in was completely unprofessional and inappropriate. But even so, I can’t help reliving the way his entire body shivered as I said those words in his ear every time I close my eyes.
And the difference between my life before that conversation and now is that I can’t keep up this game of avoiding Will any longer. He called me out on that fair and square, so it’s time for me to act like a mature adult and treat him like an actual PA with face-to-face interaction, rather than someone I only communicate with electronically. Even if that means hiding behind my desk for most of the day because the merest glimpse of his shirt stretching across his broad chest, or the briefest hint of his earthy cologne, or even the sight of that one piece of dark blond hair that doesn’t like staying in place despite his efforts to style it neatly sends blood rushing straight to my cock.
I’m snapped out of my swirling thoughts by the beep of the intercom on my desk and the sound of Will’s voice. “Hey, Spencer, Connor Kelly’s here.”
“Sure, send him in.”
A moment later, my office door swings open and a very tall, well-muscled man with a scruffy blond beard and numerous facial piercings enters the room. And if the name sounds familiar it’s because Connor is one of the many brothers of my sworn enemy, Shay.
Fortunately, Connor’s much more amiable than his oldest brother, which—along with his excellent design skills—is why I hired him as lead architect for the development in Atlantic City.
“I heard the demolition went well,” Connor comments after we’ve said our greetings.
I nod. “Without a hitch. Everything seems to be on schedule for groundbreaking in November.”
“Awesome.” He gives a little nod of approval before swinging his backpack off his shoulder and digging his tablet out.
“What have you got for me?” I ask.
“We’ve come up with a few alternative plans for the ground floor space, so you can look at those today. And we’ve got a team working on room configuration—they’ll have something rough in the next week or two.”
I nod and take the tablet to view the designs. “Sounds good.”
We spend the next hour scouring the designs, with me asking questions and making suggestions while Connor takes note of everything. Finally satisfied that he has enough input from me to work up a more final plan, Connor returns the tablet to his backpack and prepares to leave.
“Oh, hey…about that scrimmage we’ve got coming up,” he says as he’s about to leave my office.
My brows shoot up in question. “Yes?”
“Shay wants Will. For our team.”
“Will? My…assistant?” I ask, barely stopping myself from demanding ‘My Will?’
“Yeah. The one sitting right out there,” Connor says with a wry smile, canting his head in the direction of Will’s desk.
“Will plays rugby?” I’m sure that’s something I would have figured out by now if it were true.
“Nah, he was a running back in high school, though. And Shay thinks he can mold him or whatever. So, seeing as though he’s an honorary Kelly…”
“Will works for CPG now,” I state flatly. “He should be on my team.”
Connor arches a curious brow. I must sound like an absolute idiot; why should I care whose team Will plays on? It’s not like he’s some amazing player with the potential to swing the game. And I don’t even think it’s an immature reflex to prevent Shay Kelly from getting something he wants. This is about Will. If he’s on my team it’ll give me an opportunity to spend more time with him.
Which is bad. And definitely not what I want.
So I should just agree with Connor and let them have Will. But something inside me just completely rebels at the notion.
Ultimately, I decide to take it out of my hands. I reach toward my desk and press the intercom that connects to Will’s desk. “Can you come in here, please?”
It’s only a moment later that Will’s entering my office, and damn he looks incredible today. The dark blue button down he’s wearing really brings out his eyes. Such beautiful eyes.
I must have been staring for too long, because his eyebrows shoot up in question. “Is there something you need, Spencer?”
I tear my gaze away, blinking rapidly. “Right. Um…rugby.”
“We’re playing a scrimmage against Spencer’s team in a few weeks,” Connor tells Will.
“Oh yeah, Jamie mentioned it. Apparently Shay’s pretty pumped,” Will says with a wry smile.
“Did Jamie also mention Shay wants you to play with us?” Connor asks.
Will looks completely baffled. “Um…no?”
“Apparently you’re an honorary Kelly so he wants you on the team. But you work for me now so you can be on my team instead,” I say with a grin.
“But…why would either of you want me? I don’t know anything about rugby,” Will says.
“Someone tosses you the ball and you run it up the field,” Connor explains with the air of someone who’s clearly tired of this conversation. “It won’t be much different from when you played football in high school, except you won’t have any protective padding or a helmet.”
“Wow. That sounds…appealing,” Will says, entirely unenthusiastically.
“You don’t have to play,” I say gently. “You can just come and watch us kick their asses.”
“Or you can camp out and try to spot a pig fly, ‘cause that’s not ever going to happen,” Connor says with a smirk. I wonder if now might be a good time to remind him he actually works for me…