the anatomy of love [BxB] COMPLETED

22

As Jackson walks past the lobby and waves to Celeste, she calls his name. Unusual these days, since he no longer needs any direction, and Mr. Sawyer and Sofia generally talk to him directly.

"Yes?" Jackson walks to the desk, confused. Was he getting fired? Did he come on too strong?

"Mr. Sawyer wants you to wait here today. He's going to meet with a few clients and requested that you join him." Celeste smiles tightly, still a little jealous, and goes back to primly typing on the computer in front of her.

Jackson takes a seat at one of the waiting chairs. No cushy sofas in here, of course. Mr. Sawyer wouldn't allow it. He waits for twenty minutes, decides to march into his office and demand an explanation, when Mr. Sawyer walks into the lobby and past Jackson to the elevators that go down to the garage.

Realizing he is meant to follow, Jackson scrambles up and jogs to the elevator just before the doors swing closed.

"You could have given me a warning," Jackson says. Mr. Sawyer ignores him, staring icily in front of him. Great. Jackson rolls his eyes.

The doors open to the level 1 of the garage, and Mr. Sawyer walks out briskly to his car. Jackson remembers the last conversation he had in this car and cringes. Not his best moment.

They drive in silence, of course, and for a long time. Jackson guesses it takes them around forty five minutes, and they have entered a part of Oregon that Jackson is not familiar with. In the state's typical fashion of wilderness mixed with modernity, they get off a four lane highway and rumble noisily down a windy road until suddenly they enter a bustling section of town that has large office buildings and small shops.

Mr. Sawyer parks the car in front of one plain, white building with dark black windows peppering the face. They walk through a quaint lobby not unlike their own, and instead of taking the elevator like Jackson expects, Mr. Sawyer leads them into the staircase, the type that is blocked from the rest of the building and goes up and up and up.

After two flights of stairs and their footsteps echoing through the metal, Mr. Sawyer stops on a landing opposite the door and grabs Jackson by the lapels of his suit jacket and kisses him. After a moment of disbelief that quickly morphs into delight and desire, Jackson winds his arms around Mr. Sawyer and lets himself be pressed up against the wall behind him, completely covered by the length of Mr. Sawyer's body.

He doesn't care if anyone saw them, but Jackson assumes Mr. Sawyer would, which is why this feels so exhilarating. Don't get caught.

Jackson wants to drop to his knees right there. He wants all of him and in the quickest way possible. But Mr. Sawyer holds Jackson in place with a wicked tongue, a steady grip on his waist, thumbs circling under his shirt right on the skin, skimming the waistband. More, more.

Mr. Sawyer pulls away, and Jackson realizes he said that aloud. "Not yet."

Then after adjusting his pants and a few fly aways, Mr. Sawyer walks up the next flight of stairs and opens a door. Jackson reluctantly follows, wondering how he's going to focus in the meeting.

"Right this way, Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Cooper," says a lady in a black pencil skirt and a classic white blouse. She's eyeing both of them with carefully guarded eyes, and Jackson worries she knows. Then he thinks it's not her business and follows Mr. Sawyer into a large office with regal but classy furniture, a glass desk, leather seats, industrial lamps for the effect. Jackson wouldn't mind working here.

After exchanging pleasantries with a bland but cordial business man in his late fifties, Mr. Browne, with a tuft of grey hair on his head which he absently scratches every once in a while, Mr. Sawyer quickly gets down to business.