Strictly Business

Jack doesn't do relationships. He especially doesn't do relationships with blonde alpha males who don't seem to understand the word no. But when the relentless stranger he rejects at the club turns out to be his boss, Jack realizes that he's going to have a much harder time keeping this one out of his pants.

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13. Chapter Thirteen

“Grrrmph,” I grumbled, rolling over in bed and pulling my sheets over my head. I felt absolutely horrible. Hangovers and mornings were just the worst things ever.

I blearily squinted my eyes partially open and frowned at the material surrounding me. It was way too soft and silky. Definitely not standard cotton and definitely not my bed.

I shifted around until I got my feet on the floor and looked around while massaging my pounding head. Whoever I spent the night with had apparently already woken up and was nowhere to be seen. He was also quite the lover; I felt sated and my muscles ached in a manner both painful and pleasant. Walking was definitely going to be a bit of an issue but I almost wished I could remember the previous night. My memory worked only up to Samantha leaving. After that, it was fuzzy and then pitch black. I remembered checking my phone, calling someone maybe…but after that, nothing.

Getting blackout drunk wasn’t exactly out of the norm with me, although I did usually only end up that way when I drank alone. Those few occasions it happened when I was out, it typically ended up with me in someone else’s bed, like today. The only worries I had were what kind of person I had slept with and if a condom was used. In this instance, I was relieved to see a used condom on the floor as well as the wrapper, but I was going to be getting tested as soon as possible just in case.

As quickly and quietly as I could, I scrounged around for my clothes, finding them crumpled and smelling of liquor on the floor. Carson was going to kill me if he saw them before I sent them to dry cleaning or whatever.

I was buttoning up my shirt when I heard footsteps followed by the bedroom door opening.

Without looking up, I said, “Hey, fun night, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment, you seen my tie? Oh and mind passing an aspirin or something, my head’s killing me.”

“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?”

My head shot up so fast it’s a miracle it didn’t fly right off my shoulders.

“Oh fuck,” I blurted, staring at Cole. He was wearing nothing but a green towel around his waist and a scattering of mouth sized bruises at places I tended to latch onto. His hair was a darker shade of blond, almost brown, and dripping at the tips. His chest was a lot bulkier without clothes on, although he wasn’t as hairy as I thought he’d be, just a light peppering of blond that led down into his towel. He also didn’t seem to have shaved despite having showered, his jaw decorated in a light coating of bond scruff.

This was worse than the time one of my drunk stands’ wife caught me putting my clothes back on. I was just as surprised to see her since her douchebag – probably now former – husband made no mention of being married and was definitely used to sleeping with men.

Cole quirked a brow and leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. His smirk dimmed down into a small frown, “Why so surprised?”

“Shit,” I cursed, ignoring him and speeding my efforts in getting dressed. “Fucking shit.”

Of all the people to get absolutely hammered with. And I had no idea what I may have said or done, other than the obvious, the low throb in my hips and lower back undeniable evidence.

“Whoa, hey, why in such a rush?” Cole asked, stepping forward.

I backed up and snatched my jacket, and shoes from the floor, the last three buttons of my shirt forgotten and my socks and tie somewhere I didn’t have time to look for.

“Whatever happened last night—” I started but Cole frowned and cut me off.

“You don’t remember? Anything?”

“I was really fucking drunk,” I sighed. “I remember up till Samantha left. After that, it’s blurry or pitch black.” I had learned from previous mistakes that when confronted directly, it was best to just be honest about my blackouts.

Cole looked incredibly disappointed and I had to ask why he was acting as if his puppy ran away.

“Last night was incredible, better than I imagined sex with you would be and you don’t remember any of it,” he sulked. He was actually pouting.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his expression and reaction, “Jesus, what are you, a kid?”

“If you didn’t forget all about last night, then you’d know that I am far from a measly kid,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest grumpily. It was, dare I say, kind of adorable, in a ‘he’s such a fucking idiot’ sort of way.

My laughing only caused me more pain, the pounding in my head growing to the point I couldn’t hold back a cringe and automatically reached up to massage my temple.

“Why don’t you hop in the shower, I’ve got aspirin in the cabinet above the sink and when you’re done, a nice hot coffee and breakfast will be ready,” he suggested.

A hot shower and pain meds sounded really good. But there was also the fact that I was in my boss’ house after a night of apparently wonderful sex after I had been firm in denying his previous advances. But shower and meds… “If you can switch out the coffee for tea, I’ll accept your offer.”

“Done,” he replied immediately and much too eagerly. I gave him an odd look but shrugged and went to his en suit bathroom. The first thing I noticed was my reflection in the large mirror. It wasn’t hard to see that I had had quite the night. My skin, especially the areas around my collarbones, hips, and thighs, were littered with varying shades and shapes of reddish-blue. My gaze moved to the cabinet above the sink and, like he said, there was a bottle of aspirins calling my name. I popped a couple in my mouth, washing them down with water from the tap and shedding my clothes to slip into his huge shower.

He had a shower and a bathtub, both easily able to fit at least three people. I didn’t pay much attention to the bathroom – I had woken up in bed with a couple wealthy people before who seemed to love lavish toilets – and instead focused on figuring out how to turn on the hot water. It didn’t take long in reality, but I was in need of a hot shower, of water pelting my skin and hair, that those few seconds felt like forever.

I figured it out and the water quickly warmed up to a temperature I could barely stand. It felt fantastic. I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling at the knots and massaging my scalp with my eyes closed.

Lips pressed against the back of my neck, hands skimming down my body. My arms were braced against the bathroom wall as rapidly heating water washed down on us…

My eyes shot open, staring at the wall in front. The memory was vague, ghost sensations rather than something visual or auditory. I leaned forward and braced one arm against the wall, the other running up and down my side, my hands tracing the path I had just felt.

Even though I could continue to use my blackout to get out of whatever mess I was in with Cole, I kind of wanted to remember. He had me curious. He was so dejected when he found out I couldn’t remember a thing. He could have just been over exaggerating, but he made it seem like we had some pretty amazing sex last night.

I frowned under the spray of the water. Excluding last night, I hadn’t had sex since Lesley. Which was like two weeks ago. With Dan, we’d meet up rather frequently, at least twice a week. The only way I could rationalize last night was that I was sex deprived and drunk. Frequent sex with Dan had spoiled me.

Talk about a first world problem…

I could sill feel remains of those vaguely remembered touches. Closing my eyes, I trailed my hands against my skin, starting from my chest and gliding down my sides towards my slowly growing erection. My mind was coming up with all sorts of things that could have happened last night.

Rough hands pressed against my skin, gripping firmly. Confident hands, knowing exactly where to grab and with just the right pressure. A hot mouth trailed a path down my nape to between my shoulder blades, a scalding tongue licking up my spine…

I shivered and moaned as my hand wrapped around the base of my cock as I let my imagination mix with bits and pieces of various memories. Some may have been from last night, but I really didn’t care at that point.

The water acted like lube and made it easy to slide my hand up and down and around my cock. I stroked myself to full mast, gasping and panting, eyes screwed shut to amplify the sensations. I don’t know what it was, but I felt extra sensitive. My nerves sparked at the lightest of touches.

His hands grasped me firmly, moving in long, powerful strokes, making me choke on moans and gasps. He sped up, his lips still mouthing at the sensitive part of my neck until the sensations were too much and I came, my release painting the shower tiles…

Opening my eyes I saw my mess sliding down the shower tiles, gradually getting washed down the drain by the shower water.

“Let’s take this to bed, Jack?

I quickly cleaned up both the mess I made and the mess that was myself before slipping out of the shower. I dried off with one of the towels hanging on the towel rack and put my clothes back on. It felt mildly gross, especially since I had just taken a shower, but my options were limited. I dropped the towel on the edge of Cole’s laundry hamper and walked back into his bedroom to look for my tie and socks. I found them under the bed and stuffed my tie into my pocket and put my shoes and socks back on. My phone and wallet were still in my pant pockets, fortunately, so I didn’t have to spend more time looking for them.

I pulled out my phone and saw that I had a message from Lesley.

Don’t worry about what we talked about last night. I’ll handle it.

So I had called someone the previous night, I just couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was about. I frowned, going to my messages and reading the ones of him asking me to call when I had the time.

My frown deepened as I tried to recall what our conversation could have been about, but nothing was coming to me. I didn’t think on it too hard; he said not to worry about it so it couldn’t have been that important. I sent him a quick text however, saying that if he needs help, I’ll be there, and then tucked my phone away to deal with Cole.

But he was gone.

I stepped out of his bedroom with my stuff and ended up in one of the biggest living rooms I had ever seen. There was an open kitchen in one corner, all dark marble and fancy machinery, and doors lined the big square room that led to whatever other rooms he had. My eyes were drawn to a sleek wooden display case that was filled to the brim with various types of alcohol. I couldn’t help my feet moving towards it to see Cole’s collection. A majority of the drinks were red wines with a couple champagnes and rums. He also had a few whiskeys.

Tearing my gaze and hands away from the liquor, I wandered over to his kitchen, seeing that he had a few things on the stove, covered to keep some heat. There was also a glass bowl filled with various chopped up fruits. But the man himself was nowhere to be seen.

I was just about to head for the door to leave – which I probably should have done from the very beginning – when it opened and Cole was back, still only wrapped up in a towel.

“Oh, hey,” he said before frowning. “You could have borrowed some of my clothes.”

“Yeah, no. Where did you go?” My eyes fell to the box in his hands.

Cole chuckled, “I don’t have tea here so I went around to my neighbor’s asking if they did. Lucky for us, I now have tea for you.”

“You…” I didn’t know what to say so I just shook my head.

“Yes me,” he replied cheekily. “Now, go sit at the island and I’ll have food and your tea in front of you in a jiffy.”

“Who the hell says ‘jiffy’ anymore?” I muttered under my breath as I followed him back to his kitchen. I should have made a run for it, but I was really craving some nice hot tea and I knew that even though I really did not want to have the upcoming discussion, it was inevitable.

Cole pulled out a barstool and gestured for me to take a seat as he went to the pans on the stove. He was soon pulling out two plates and mugs and I watched him work. His broad back was blocking what he was doing so I could only guess by sounds and smells, the latter of which was incredibly enticing, even when my stomach didn’t seem too interested in digesting anything. It didn’t take long and he was turning around before I knew it, holding two plates of food and the bowl of fruit I had seen earlier.

“How do you like your tea?” he asked, setting one of the plates and the bowl in front of me.

“Just sugar,” I replied, scanning what he made. French toast, an omelet of some sort, and a fruit salad of strawberry halves, cubed watermelon, green grapes, and some other light green fruit that was also cubed.

Cole nodded and opened up the box of tea bags, frowning down at it and holding two bags in his hands.

I raised a brow, “Are you serious? You don’t know how to make tea with tea bags?”

“I drink coffee,” was his excuse, accompanied by a sheepish pout. “No one I’ve ever been with drank tea.”

“Christ, just get me some hot water and sugar,” I shook my head, standing up. “You handle your caffeine, and I’ll handle mine.”

“Yes, sir,” Cole replied, passing me a mug, a glass jar of sugar, and the box of tea bags, and then heating up a pot of water because he didn’t have a kettle since he had no use for one. He had a fancy coffee machine which he pressed buttons on and messed around with. I added an unhealthy amount of sugar to my mug and dropped one tea bag in while I waited for the water to heat up. Both our drinks were finished at around the same time and I breathed in the steam coming from my mug, sighing at the scent with my eyes closed. It was earl gray which as all right, but not the type I typically drank and from a different brand.

When I opened my eyes, Cole had his phone in his hand and was fiddling with it, the back held upright and facing me.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, eyes narrowed as I lowered my mug.

His lips quirked, “I was trying to take a picture of you.”

I blinked at him.

“You looked really cute,” he added.

I blinked at him again.

“Your nose twitched, like a rabbit,” he continued.

“Cole,” I said. “Stop talking.”

He ignored me, having to get one last remark in, “It was almost as great as the face you make when you come.”

I rolled my eyes, “If you’re trying to make me all shy and embarrassed, you’re going to have to try much harder.”

He shrugged, “I had a feeling. You said some very interesting things last night although now I’m kind of disappointed to know that you were completely drunk. Do you really not remember anything from last night?”

I shook my head even as I thought back to the little episode in his shower just a short while ago.

When we sat down and began to dig in, I finally let my mind realize how surreal the situation was. And how I was a fucking idiot. I got careless and now I was having a ‘morning after’ with my boss.

To stall, I forked the green cubed fruit and held it up with a frown, “What the hell is this?”

“Honeydew melon,” he replied. “You never had it before?”

“I don’t really eat a lot of fruits and veggies,” I muttered, staring at the fruit. Green foods were not my thing.

Cole forked one as well and popped it into his mouth, “They’re good. My favorite melon.”

I frowned at it before taking a tentative lick. It didn’t really taste like anything, like water. I took a bite off my fork and it wasn’t too bad, it was like slightly sweet water that I could chew on. Popping the rest into my mouth I shrugged at Cole’s overly eager and questioning gaze, “It’s alright.”

“Alright? It’s the best melon, it’s not just alright.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s a melon.”

“Try another one,” he insisted. I didn’t understand why he was so persistent about this. It was a goddamn melon.

“It’s a—mmph” I tried to repeat, but Cole speared another cube and shoved it into my partly opened mouth.

The cube was one of the bigger ones, keeping my mouth too occupied to yell at him, so I settled for glaring at his grin as he held his fork that was still embedded into the melon piece between my lips.

Since I couldn’t really do anything else, I slid the piece off the fork and chewed it, annoyance coloring my every action.

“You are an absolute child,” I stated once I swallowed. Hypocritical, yes, but true nevertheless. “What would people at work think of you if they knew that you were actually like this?”

Cole shrugged, “Well, I can’t speak for them on that, but I could throw your question right back at you.”

I frowned, “What?”

Cole picked up his coffee, taking a sip and staring at me over the rim, “What if they knew of how skilled you were in bed?”

“I don’t sleep with coworkers so that’ll never be an issue,” I replied, but I fell right into his trap.

“I guess you’re right, your boss isn’t usually considered a coworker.”

I set my cutlery down and sighed, “So we’re addressing the elephant in the room now?”

Cole shrugged, “It’s not much of an elephant. We had sex. It was fantastic. I want to have several repeats.”

I blinked at him, raising a skeptically brow, “I’m starting to think that you’ve not had much experience between the sheets with how you seem to be obsessed with how great last night apparently was.”

Cole smirked, a promising glint flashing in his eyes, “Then why don’t I show you. It really is a shame that you can’t remember last night, Jack. You were incredibly hot, and you enjoyed yourself enough to pass out right after coming for the third time.”

“Three times and passing out, huh,” I mused, popping the last bite of my omelet into my mouth. I couldn’t lie. I was insanely curious. I knew what he was doing but my interest was steadily growing. “How do you know I didn’t pass out from being beyond drunk?”

“I don’t,” Cole conceded before leaning forward, food and coffee forgotten. He continued, voice low and rough, “But you’re not drunk now.”

It could have been his tone, the look in his eyes, the fact that he was still slightly damp from his shower, that he was only wearing a towel, or that I was still a bit drunk somehow. Whatever it was, led to a blurred series of events that ended up with me pushed against his refrigerator, a chair toppled over, and my mouth being ravaged as large, firm hands grabbed and groped at my skin, pulling at my clothes. My own hands tried to find hold but since Cole’s hair was closely cropped, there was nothing to weave my fingers through.

Cole kissed me roughly, grinding his front into mine and it was a wonder that his towel didn’t fall. Yet anyway.

He pulled back after a moment, both of us heaving, skin flushed, lips bruised, and cheeks roughed by stubble burns. His eyes were of the darkest blue as he stared at me. “Please tell me you’re 100% sober and want this,” he groaned, gently thrusting his hips into me.

I thought about the consequences for about a second before I grabbed his face and pulled him back down, biting harshly on his lip and relishing in his tightened grip and drawn out groan. His hands fumbled with my pants, nearly ripping them and my underwear as he shoved them down my legs and I stumbled to kick them off. He grasped the backs of my thighs and lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist and crush our groins closer together. His towel dropped and his hands moved to my ass as he broke our kiss to bite and suckle down my jaw to my neck. He pressed me further into the refrigerator and the contrast of his body heat against my front and the cool metal of his fridge at my back only served to heighten my sensitivity.

“Oh fuck,” I hissed when he craned his neck to catch a pebbled nipple between his teeth. “You need more hair,” I grumbled after failing once again at trying to get a decent grip on his blond locks.

My cock grew hard quickly from his ministrations, rubbing and grinding against his own hardened length. A finger crept towards my hole, pressing against the skin with purpose.

“You aren’t fucking me without a condom,” I told him, pulling his head back up to suck harshly on the underside of his jaw.

A guttural moan was his reply when I bit the sensitive skin, right where a hickey was already formed.

Cole brought his hand to his mouth and quickly covered two fingers with spit before bringing the hand back down so his newly slickened fingers could prod at me.

I was still a bit tender so his first digit slipped in with relative ease and a slight burn. He brought his lips back to mine as he worked one finger in and then another until he was pumping his fingers in and out while I rocked as much as I could pressed against the fridge and his body.

I slipped one hand down between us and grasped Cole’s throbbing flesh, eliciting stuttered breathing and jerked thrusting that resulted in him directly hitting my prostate.

Cole renewed his efforts, stroking and pressing my prostate while I jerked him off and we went at each other’s lips with ferocious lust. It was rough and passionate, all about uninhibited natural desires with almost beast-like hunger for skin.

It didn’t take long for both of us to reach our limits. Cole dropped to the floor, taking me with him as we drove the other past the brink.

We sat on the floor, me on Cole’s lap, as we slowly caught our breath. I dropped my head back to rest against the fridge and he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder.

“So, can I take you to bed?” he asked, mouthing at my skin. “And I don’t mean for just today.”

I hummed in thought before replying sternly, “This cannot get out to anyone.”

“I can be very discrete,” he promised, nipping at my skin. “So, bed? Or I could take you over the counter.” He punctuated his proposal by stroking my prostate as his fingers had yet to be removed.

I could already feel my spent cock trying to get ready for another round and I clenched around him. The idea of a secret affair, I was beginning to understand why people risked their jobs for such things. And it felt pretty good to behave like a horny teenager again. Besides, we fucked already and he had his fingers up my ass.

I tilted my head down to look at him and get him to stop biting at my neck. “We need to get some details sorted,” I said. He nodded, looking mildly disappointed but that look was soon replaced by a mischievous smirk when I continued, “But first, why don’t you show me exactly what I missed from last night.”

———————————————

A/N: Heyyo, long A/N ahead because I want to rant/share. You may or may not have see a mumble I did, but I got my first series of hate comments on another website three days ago. It was for my SnK fanfic No Homo and was amusing honestly, because I just did not expect two people to be so fucking stupid. The first one's 'arguments', and I use the term very loosely, included references to his support of Hitler, my writing being 'filth' and 'cancerous', him receiving aids from reading it, and that I defied the website's terms and conditions as my story was 'sexually objectionable'. His friend supported his claims. The story is PG, the character's haven't even so much as kissed yet. The only PG-13 thing about it so far is a couple of the chapter titles which are meant to be misleading and give readers hope only to be crushed when Jean continues to be stupid. I wonder how much their panties would have been twisted had they looked at this, SP, or SW which includes an actual sex scene.

The comments were deleted by the website since they became incredibly inappropriate and offensive (the instigator assumed me to be gay, hence why I wrote 'filth' - he really seemed to like that word - and he went on another rant with more instances of the use of 'cancer') but the two fucktards have actually created a profile called 'Hitler' and a group thing (the site lets you create groups so people of similar interests can have a place to gather and stuff) meant to 'cleanse' the website of filth, ex. my story No Homo. I checked it out and I was their first 'target' which was just hysterical (but that discussion thread and those comments were also deleted, but the group is still up). They've been making comments in other groups to see if more people share their opinions and are just asking for an argument and it's ridiculous. It was quite the way to end my birthday. I would have been fine with their 'criticism' if they gave even a single specific piece of evidence as to why I'm a horrible writer that should remove all my work from the internet. But they didn't and their elitist attitude has worked against them on the site and a number of users who saw their behaviour, including the community manger person of the website, were on my side. Hopefully no one else gets 'targeted' by the two.

OOh. AND I'M FINALLY DONE WITH HIGH SCHOOL. My last day was yesterday and I have like 7 days of IB exams starting Monday (may the fourth be with me, especially physics because I need at least a 4 to pass and I don't know shit) and then I graduate first week of June and then I move to uni. I've finally decided where I'm going and will be moving to Boston come fall. Being an international kid sucks though because I have to get so much shit done before I can go... If there's anything in Boston I should be aware of (especially as an international (broke) college student with social anxiety) let me know? I've been to Boston once. For less than 24 hours and the only place I've seen is the university I'm going to.

I'll try and get SP out soon, but there's stuff in it that I'm having trouble writing so yeah...

Laters!

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