Dean Walsh was happy with his new life, his job, his girlfriend. Until his boss, billionaire Salomon Ellis, discovers his darkest secret. From then on, he will hold Dean hostage to his whims in exchange for his silence.
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The large black coffee I grabbed from the vending machine on my way out of the Square didn't help me much to overcome the weird numbness that had taken hold of me, but at least it cleared my head a little. Enough to notice it was almost nine, and explaining why I was so late wasn't gonna be easy. Not to mention finding an excuse for being so drained.
Steph sprinted to throw her arms around my neck the moment I set foot in the apartment, crying and giggling at the same time, mumbling about being so worried, because my phone was off and she was afraid something had happened to me.
"Sorry, love. The meeting lasted longer than I expected," I said, kissing her hair.
"You okay, D? What is it?" she asked right away.
"A headache that's killing me." Once more, the lies came out of my mouth in a natural way that surprised me.
"Did you have anything to eat?"
I shook my head, throwing my bag on the couch. "It's okay, baby. I just wanna go to sleep, if you don't mind."
"Sure, love, go. D'you need anything?"
I felt like a bag of rocks, but her unaware, loving concern made me feel a son of a bitch.
"It's okay, babe, thank you."
She stepped back to give me way with a hesitant smile. I started to our room, stopped halfway and turned to her, doing my best to smile back at her.
"You know I love you, right?"
She hurried to me and gave me a quick hug. "I love you too, D. Go, and call me if you need anything."
"You're staying up?"
"I was working on a file while I waited for you. I'll join you as soon as I finish it."
"Don't take long."
I said it out of habit, because that was what we used to tell each other. Actually, her staying up was good news for me, so I could take the boxer trunks off and hide them before she came to bed. And no matter how long she took, be it a minute or an hour, she'd find me sound asleep. Lucky me, I slept like a log all night, to wake up the next morning at eight, rested, with my head clear, and a firm determination to not think about the day before.
We had breakfast together, finished it with a kitchen quickie and I went to work. And five to six, just when I was feeling grateful to go back home in time, he summoned me to room twelve.
Like he did the day after, and the day after that.
He didn't take as long as Tuesday, and always let me go before seven-thirty. But every time was worse than the last one, because I kept finding out the surprising depth and intensity of what he made me experience. Seeing his black soft bag made my heart race. His hand spreading oil on my shaft made my knees shake. His tongue on my nipples took my breath away. Everything he did took me a step higher and further than anything I'd ever experienced. I didn't care if he edged me to no end, because every bit of it felt overwhelmingly good.
