And wanting. Sacha’s mere gaze was enough for him to harden fully, his balls drawing up, anticipation leaving him dizzy. Jonah could hardly stand it, but he forced himself to keep silent and still. Sacha was a predator, and Jonah the prey, but it made no sense to make a meal of himself so fast. There was a difference between playing dead and lying down to die.
Why are you thinking like he’s a lion stalking you? You want this. You basically asked for it.
All true. Jonah had no answers for the devil on his shoulder. Just a building heat thrumming in his veins, and lips that ached to be kissed—another errant thought he’d have to ignore if he wanted to enjoy this.
“Focus,” Sacha said softly. “On me and what I’m going to do to you. Don’t think about anything else, just what’s real.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I don’t need to.” Sacha closed the conversation with his mouth on Jonah’s cock, and coherent thought abandoned Jonah as if he’d never had it.
Ever.
As if he’d lacked the skill since the day he was born, and his brain was a void. A black space filled only by the dismantling sensation of Sacha going to town on his dick.
Wet.
Hot.
Hard.
Then he switched it up and sucked slowly up and down Jonah’s shaft, his gold-flecked gaze as teasing as his tongue.
Jonah groaned, and his hands flew to Sacha’s head, fingers tangling in his perfectly dishevelled hair. It was as silky as he’d imagined it, no product weighing it down. It would be so easy to bury his fingers in it, and cant his hips, fucking Sacha’s mouth. But he didn’t. He kept his hands loose and his hips still, ceding control to the man bent double between his legs.
He didn’t stop to think about why. Just closed his eyes and felt and tried not to consider the possibility that Curtis or Samson, or any other employee who’d forgotten something, could walk in on them at any moment.
As the pressure in his gut built, not thinking became easier. Pleasure unfurled, beat by beat, curling his toes and stealing his breath. Harsh pants escaped his lungs, and spasms rocked every muscle as he fought to keep still.
Sacha slid his free hand up Jonah’s leg, gripping his thigh. Jonah let one of his drift from Sacha’s head before he caught himself and put it back. Don’t try and hold his hand. He’s blowing you in the office, not declaring undying love.
The reality of the situation almost made Jonah laugh, but there was nothing funny about what Sacha was doing to him. He’d never felt anything like it. Shivers became full body shudders. Gasps became groans. Jonah tipped his head back and screwed his eyes shut, no longer caring if the building staff heard him shout. “Fuck. I’m going to come. Pull off if you don’t want it down your throat.”
Sacha hummed and stayed where he was.
Jonah tried to warn him again but his roaring climax choked him, barrelling through every part of him with a strangled shout. He emptied into Sacha’s hot mouth, still warring with the urge to buck his hips and ram his cock down Sacha’s throat, and winning the battle was exquisite. His climax stretched out, held by the ropes of his tight muscles, and he was seeing stars when it finally faded.
Sacha pulled back, his self-satisfied smirk returning full force.
Mourning the loss of his soft hair, Jonah rolled his heavy eyes. “Don’t be smug. It doesn’t become you.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Okay, maybe it does, but I don’t like it.”
“So?”
“So…” Jonah glanced around for something to throw, but settled for fixing his clothes back in place, standing to buckle his belt with shaky hands.
Sacha helped.
“Thanks.” Jonah gazed down at him, heart still racing, thumping the tattoo that seemed to be his constant companion when they were together.
Sacha blazed back, his lips reddened and wet. The urge to lean down and kiss him sent new dizziness through Jonah. He rocked on his heels. Sacha caught him, standing to bring them eye level again. “If nepotism does not kill you, maybe blow jobs will.”
“Very funny.”
“Am I?”
“No. But you’re hard. Can I return the favour?”
Sacha stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. “Not tonight. It’s late, we should both go home.”
His length pressing against Jonah’s thigh told another story. Jonah opened his mouth to protest, but Sacha silenced him with a single finger to Jonah’s wanting lips. He tucked a damp lock of Jonah’s hair behind his ear. “Next time, Jonah Gray.”
Next time. “How long are you going to whole-name me for?”
“Until it bores me.”
Jonah nodded and absorbed the words unsaid: that it wasn’t just Jonah’s name on borrowed time, it was Jonah himself too. But still.
Next time.
6
Sacha was a listener. Sometimes he talked, but most days he preferred to scowl at people until they left him alone forever. Monday morning had started as one of those days, but as it passed in a haze of emergency coding and fraught meetings, he found himself longing for the kind of conversation he’d only had in recent memory with one person. The kind that was teasing and intense, shadows and light.
The kind that he didn’t have a single minute to spare for right now.
It was annoyingly ironic that since his last true encounter with Jonah at Jonah’s desk, he now saw him every damn time he looked up. Which was often as the company Sacha was keeping in his own office space was irritating enough that he needed a distraction.
“Are you even listening?” Helga asked. “You’re the one that said this was important.”
Sacha tore his gaze from the glint of copper hair he could just about glimpse in the neighbouring offices. “It is important. The app cannot launch if the website isn’t strong enough to support it.”
“So we need to hire a team to recode it?”
“No.” Sacha shook his head. “There is no time for that. We will have to take it apart ourselves and shore it up. It can be rebuilt properly after the soft launch in a few weeks.”
“Okay, but who’s going to do that extra work? We don’t have enough capacity in our web development team.”
“I’ll do it,” Sacha said absently, his brain still fixated on Jonah. He’d seen him about twelve times today, the man never seemed to stay in one place for long. He was constantly on the move, checking in with his staff, brewing coffee for anyone and everyone. At one point, he’d gone out and returned with enough doughnuts for the entire floor, the Blutecc teams included.
Sacha had ignored the doughnuts out of a principle that hadn’t solidified yet, but it hadn’t surprised him to learn that Jonah’s generosity was a weekly occurrence. He had kind eyes that didn’t belong in the cut-throat world of corporate advertising.
Does he, though? Or is this the version of him you’ve created in your own head? You hardly know this man.
But Sacha wanted to. Which made the odd pact they’d come to last week all the more complex to swallow. Sacha rarely met anyone he wanted to talk to as much as he wanted to fuck them. And it was even rarer that he wanted to fuck someone more than once. He possessed a scant attention span when it came to peopling because people were boring. Vacuous. Dull. It irritated him that Jonah Gray was anything but.