“Well? What the fuck is it?” Ian asks, still out of breath.
“Why the hell did you tell Juls that I was married?”
He laughs. “Uh, I didn’t. You? Married? That’s fucking hilarious. Babe, who told you Reese was married?”
“You did. Last week when we all went to The Tavern after work. Right?” She sounds nervous and suddenly unsure of herself.
“This is so fucking stupid. Can I go please?” I ask and Reese’s arm shoots out and prevents me from grabbing the door handle. I try to push it away but my efforts are useless.
“Babe, I think you’ve mistaken Reese for Trent. Trent is married.”
My stomach drops.
“Oh. Oh fuck, you’re right. Dylan, I’m so sorry. Shit, I really thought it was Reese. Honest mistake though, right?” She giggles nervously and clears her throat.
I drop my head into my hands. “Jesus Christ.” I groan, hearing a muffled laugh coming from my left and suddenly wanting to hurl myself out the nearest window. Oh God, this is awkward.
“Well, now that there’s no confusion, can you two love birds please get the fuck out so I can finish?” Ian utters through a laugh. “And lock the door behind you.”
“Yup. Uh, meet you downstairs, Juls.” I quickly open the door, beginning to make my way towards the elevators when a pair of hands grab my waist and spin me.
“Oh no. I don’t think so,” Reese states, gripping my elbow and leading me back down the hallway and straight to his office. Shit. He’s not married. Now what?
Four
I was completely unprepared for this turn of events. Everything was executed perfectly on my side. I slapped him, called him out on his infidelity, and didn’t allow his blinding good looks to deter me in any way. I felt powerful storming into his office and telling him off the way I did. But now, now I feel like a meek little church mouse as I cower in the corner of his office. He isn’t married. That was not something I was expecting to discover and definitely not something I was prepared to have to contemplate. I mean, what did we share together other than a hot fling at a wedding? There wasn’t anything deeper going on here, was there? No, surely not. No one develops relationships from slutty wedding sex encounters. That’s not how those things work. If they did, Joey would be in a new relationship every other month. My eyes slowly trail up his long lean body and stop on his eyes that are curiously watching me. He has regained his perch on his desk and hasn’t said a word as I fidget with my fingers, debating on where to start. Fuck. I owed him a major apology. I clear my throat and step closer to him, seeing him shift a bit on his desk.
“So, I was wondering if it was at all possible for you to completely forget that I came storming in here like a crazy person and assaulted you. If not, I’m not entirely above groveling.”
He tilts his head and strokes his jaw with his hand. Pushing off the desk, he bridges the gap between us. “Well, you did think I was a married man who was fucking around behind his wife’s back. I think that slap was justified from your point of view.” His hand brushes my hair off my shoulder, the small gesture causing my stomach to knot up. “Besides, I would hate to completely forget how incredibly sexy you looked all feisty and pissed off.”
I laugh slightly. “You thought that was sexy?”
He nods and licks his lip as he stares at my mouth. I step into him, feeling his hands grip tightly onto my jeaned hips. “Well then, I could rip you a new one for acting like a total dipshit after you fucked me. It’s your call.” His chest heaves rapidly as I run my hands up his arms and stop on his biceps, squeezing once before flicking my eyes up to his. Hard muscles tense against my hands.
“Do your worst,” he whispers.
My fingers trail up the length of his tie. Yelling at him to make him want me was tempting. Really tempting. But he had technically already apologized for his behavior, and right now, I didn’t want to yell. Not unless he was fucking it out of me.
Gripping his tie in my fist, I pull him back behind his desk and push him down into his chair. “I choose groveling,” I declare as his eyes widen. Kneeling before him and steadying my fingers, I slip them into his belt, loosening it and unzipping his khakis.
“Dylan.”
My hand grips his length and I pull him out, flicking my tongue across the head and glancing up into his eyes that are now glazed with lust. My tongue swirls around the head and down the shaft, licking every inch of him. I trail soft kisses along the seam as his eyes stay glued on my mouth, his lips parting and his breath coming out in quick bursts.
“That’s so hot, love. Suck it hard.”