He disappeared into the open living space Sacha only remembered as the cool marble and smooth walls he’d braced his hands against when he’d fucked Jonah over and over until he’d been at the point of collapse. A booze-hazed memory of toppling Jonah onto his bed pushed into Sacha’s mind. He remembered the feel of Jonah’s clean sheets in his hands as he’d wrapped them around Jonah and then crept away, haunted by the temptation to climb in beside him and go to sleep.
Fool.
Sacha forced his legs into motion and followed Jonah to the sitting room where Jonah laid Sacha’s laptop bag on the antique coffee table. “Why is your tree not in here where you can see it?”
Jonah glanced up. “Because I don’t spend much time here. I can see it better from my bedroom if it’s in the hallway.”
“You spend a lot of time in your bedroom?”
“Not especially. It’s just the place I frequent most when I’m home.”
“And you like your tree? Even though you didn’t want it?”
Jonah smiled enough to warm Sacha’s blood. “I do like it, actually. My family isn’t particularly religious either, but it’s more about being together than anything else, and having the tree reminds me that I don’t have much longer to wait for that.”
“That’s what it was supposed to mean in my family too…the together part. For those who still follow the Soviet holiday, they are a symbol of happiness and prosperity.”
Jonah shrugged out of his suit jacket. He draped it over the back of the couch and gestured for Sacha to sit. Sacha ignored him and wandered to yet another floor-to-ceiling window. The devil in him pondered if he could make Jonah come against this one too, but his mind was fighting the heaviness the medicine he’d taken at the office often left him with. It was hard to keep track of one thought as it flowed into the next. He wanted to feel Jonah’s skin slide against his as much as he wanted to fuck him again.
“Sacha?”
“Hmm?”
Jonah appeared beside him and waved in front of his face. “I’ve got wine, but I’m thinking we might need coffee if we’re going to last all night.”
It took a moment for Sacha to remember he was talking about work. He fought the dirty images pooling in his imagination and nodded. “Yes. Coffee. Would be nice.”
“I’ll get it. Have a look at this and see what you want.”
Jonah pressed an iPad into Sacha’s hands. It was open on a food delivery app Sacha had helped launch a few years ago. The interface had changed, but Sacha still knew it like the back of his hand. “You should not use this. The security is weak.”
“How do you know that?”
“I tell them when they built it. They do not care. Use this one instead.” He swiped into the app store and pointed at another logo he knew intimately.
Jonah raised a brow, half amused, half perplexed, but downloaded the app anyway and handed it back to Sacha. “Same request. See what you want.”
He vanished again.
Sacha took the iPad to the oversized couch and sat down. The cushions nearly swallowed him whole. They were too comfortable even for fucking.
Stop thinking about fucking.
Sacha snorted softly. It was a big ask even without Jonah’s entrancing presence. Sacha liked sex. A lot. And sex with Jonah? Yes. Indeed. It was like nothing he remembered for a very long time.
I want to fuck him again. Hardly a new conclusion, but it was solid enough that Sacha pushed it aside and focused on the iPad screen. His left eye still flickered, as if he had static in his retina. He rubbed at it, knowing it would pass but still dreading what would happen if it didn’t. Put the screen down.
Sacha poked hurriedly at the first option that seemed vaguely appetising, then loaded his credit card details into the payment screen as Jonah came back in the room.
“Coffee is brewing. What did you get?”
“Noodles. Chicken and rice. I got a lot, but I left it open in case you wanted something else.”
“No. That sounds good. Pass it here, I’ll send it.”
Sacha nudged the iPad to Jonah. “Don’t pay. I already did.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“I’ll get the next one.”
“If you say so, Jonah Gray.”
“I do.” Jonah tapped the iPad a few times then set it down next to a laptop Sacha hadn’t noticed. It was a MacBook wrapped up in a Deadpool case. He grinned when he saw Sacha’s brows rise. “I have a thousand nieces and nephews. They gave me this for my birthday and said they’d cry if I didn’t use it.”
“You take that into meetings?”
“Of course. I have no interest in being bland. It’s not a good look for my company.”
“You couldn’t look bland if you tried.”
“That’s sweet,” Jonah said. “Is it wrong that I think the same of you right now when you’re clearly unfed and in need of a nap?”
“I do not need a nap. I need coffee and to see you naked again.”
“Before or after work?”
“I want to say before, but I think when you are naked again I will forget I have work at all.”
Jonah shook his head. “All this talk of me being naked. Are you fully clothed in this scenario?”
“Maybe,” Sacha hedged, ignoring the desire to feel Jonah’s skin against his for the split second he could bear to. “Perhaps I cannot wait long enough to strip.”
Jonah snorted. “As if. It was me who couldn’t wait last time. You drove me wild.”
“Good. I like wild Englishmen.”
“Hmm.” Jonah got up and abruptly left the room.
He returned with two mugs of strong coffee and passed one to Sacha. He set the other by his Deadpool laptop and Sacha took it to mean the fucking talk had passed.
Sacha reached for his own computer and opened it. The mess of code he’d abandoned filled the screen and he waited a moment to see if his eyes would hold up. They did, and it wasn’t long before he was immersed in his work again.
The buzz of Jonah’s intercom startled him sometime later.
“It’s the food.” Jonah got up. “I’ll get it.”
The evening seemed to be punctuated by Jonah leaving the room, Sacha missing him, then him returning with something else to make Sacha’s life brighter. This time it wasn’t just his lovely self, it was cardboard containers of Cantonese food.
Sacha took the chopsticks Jonah brandished and dug into a box of salty chicken noodles, laced with chilli, soy sauce, and ginger. Across from him, Jonah claimed a plastic fork and made short work of the fried rice.
Sacha couldn’t look away. “You’re sexy when you eat.”
“Says you using chopsticks like a pro.”
“It’s not hard.”
“I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t fancy throwing rice all over my laptop while I figure it out.”
“I can teach you.”
“I’d rather you ate your dinner and did your work so you can fuck me later.”
Jonah had a soft, low voice. It was deep, and masculine, but he spoke so smoothly every word wrapped around Sacha like silk. He swallowed the food in his mouth, taking a moment to gather himself. It wasn’t often he found himself floored like he was with Jonah, and he wondered if Jonah knew the effect he was having on him.