Chapter 34

The architects point to various spots on their layout, explaining to Blake how they've expertly brought his vision to life for the new store. I sit back and watch. These guys seem to be the cream of the crop, so to speak, as far as architects go.

I don't have a problem with them. Well, except for the fact that the lesser of the two partners keeps eyeing my boss down like he's a lollipop. Fuckin' prick. It shouldn't make me jealous; it really shouldn't. I mean, Blake is a good-looking dude. Plus, now that I've seen Phil and myself, I know this fagtoid fairy isn't his type.

But still. It's the principle of the matter.

"You just have such great taste," the flamboyant architect says, touching Blake's arm.

Blake raises his brow at the man before glancing at me to see if I'm watching. My eyes seem to be burning holes on the two of them, and the faintest grin of satisfaction spreads across Blake's lips. He casually moves out of arm's reach from the man and clears his throat.

"Gentlemen, if you both will excuse us. Now that we've seen the layouts, my assistant and I are going to talk it over for a bit. We'll get back to you by the end of the day."

The main partner seems satisfied with this answer, giving Blake a firm handshake. He's oblivious to all the sexual tension and touches that have transpired in the last hour. The lesser partner, on the other hand, tries to hide his disappointment.

"If you need anything," he gushes. "And I mean anything, just call."

He smiles at Blake – a smile of sheer sex and seduction. I stand from the table and clear my throat.

"Thanks for that offer," I cut in with a tight-lipped smile. "But if we need to contact you for anything, that task will fall on my shoulders. Not his."

He eyes me closely, impressed with what he sees, before turning to look at Blake again. His eyes flicker between us as he puts the pieces together with a raised brow. Blake glances at me, and that intense feeling of emotion squeezes my chest again. Then he nods in my direction, giving both myself and the fruity pebble silent confirmation.

We're together.

Understanding dawns on the man's features.

"Of course," the partner says, his voice far more professional this time. "We look forward to hearing from you."

He leans forward to shake Blake's hand, then walks the length of the table to shake mine. His expression is apologetic, but the green eyed monster inside me is still stomping around hard enough that all I can muster in return is a smug grin.

When the door closes behind them, Blake leans his palms on the table to hold his weight. His navy blue suit accentuates the tan he's developed being here. How is it possible the man looks more attractive than he did yesterday?

In my experience, sex deflates attraction. The attraction builds, intensifies, then explodes into a night of passion before fizzling out the next morning. As Blake's piercing eyes clash with mine, however, I find he is the exception to that rule.

My stomach aches for more of him. Hell, even my groin starts to heat and twitch in the hopes of something more happening between us. Maybe right here on this conference table? Maybe on top of all that fruity pebble's layouts?

"You were awfully quiet during that entire meeting," Blake comments.

Yea. That's because I was thinking about our sex from last night. Oh right. And that little small emotion of being in love with you that seems to be growing by the second.

I shrug. "Just tired."

My stomach tightens. Waking up with Blake in my arms confirmed the flood of emotions I felt the night before. That realization alone scares the shit out of me. Ironically enough, the one person I feel comfortable enough to talk it over with is the one person I can't.

Although, in my defense, this morning we did make progress.

Blake insisted on taking me into the shower with him – not that I was complaining – and wasted little time before pinning me against the wall and asking in a husky voice if he was allowed to call me his boyfriend yet.

True to form, the conversation was full of eye rolls, playful banter, and awkward emotional admittance. Well, from my end anyway. Luckily, my boyfriend knows me well enough to counter my wily forms of hesitation. He knew all the right things to say and do to ease me into the confirmation I wanted to give all along.

I want to be his, and I want him to be mine.

And now we're together. Officially together.

I bask in my happiness while I replay those words. It feels kind of weird to say I'm exclusive, though. Can't say that I've ever been in a relationship that's lasted longer than a few hours. Hell, it feels even weirder to say I'm exclusive with a man.

Jared will shit a brick when I tell him. I hold back a laugh imagining the look on his face when Blake and I walk up to the house hand in hand.

Blake tilts his head to the side, pulling me from my thoughts. "You were quiet this morning too."

"Yea, I was tired then too. You kept me up past my bedtime."

The edges of Blake's lips quirk up into the semblance of a smile. "I didn't hear you complaining last night."

His voice becomes rich with lust, and just like that, my pulse goes into overdrive. I try to calm my emotions and my hormones, clicking my tongue on the roof of my mouth.

"What can I say? You make a good distraction."

Blake smirks. "A good distraction, huh?"

More like someone who I'm finding myself so in love with that it's hard to think of anything else. But yea, we'll stick with calling him a distraction so my emotions don't go to his ego. That's the last thing my big-shot CEO boss needs – more self-confidence.

Blake breaks our eye contact and begins rolling up the layouts before stuffing them back into their cylinder containers. I use the time to check our schedule for the day. We have a chunk of free time until 2:00 PM when we meet with a potential store director.

"Wanna go to lunch?" I ask Blake. "We got some time."

It's the first time I've ever asked him out. We eat together on a daily basis, but it's always Blake who initiates us going out together. For some reason, asking makes me nervous, and I find myself holding my breath waiting for him to respond.

He doesn't stop working and answers me without missing a beat. "Absolutely. Where would you like to go?"

I puff out a sigh of relief and run a hand through my disheveled hair. This is going to take some getting used to.

"Anywhere is fine with me. Nowhere too fancy, though. I'm treating this time, and I'd prefer not to spend eight paychecks for an appetizer."

Blake glances at me. "You're not paying for me."

"I'm the one who asked you to lunch, so it's my treat this time."

"No."

I grit my teeth. "Blake, you pay for my shit all the time. My paychecks have tripled since I started working with you, and yet my expenses have dwindled down to nothing. Aside from paying for rent, you pay for everything else. You even pay for my phone bill and my gas, because you claim they're work related."

Blake finishes tidying up the conference room and smooths out his tie. "You're point?"

"I can't tell you the last time I actually paid for something for myself."

My boss is quiet for a moment. He adjusts his cufflinks. "You're going to college at some point, are you not?"

"Yes."

The problem is trying to afford it. There's no chance I'll make this kind of money going anywhere else, though, so my plan is to stay at this job as long as possible, paying my way through community school one class at a time.

Blake nods in satisfaction. "That's what I thought. Which is all the more reason to save that money for your education."

I scowl at him.

"What I didn't realize," Blake continues, crossing his arms over his chest, "is that you're paying rent. How much do you pay a month?"

This conversation is heading in a direction that makes my stomach quiver – this time not in a good way. Even though Blake and I are now a couple and have spent a ton of time together in the past few months, he knows very little about my personal life.

Come to think of it, aside from Fagtoid Phil, I know very little of his either.

So he doesn't know that I'm stuck living at home, paying my mom's rent until she gets out of rehab for alcoholism. He doesn't know that my father bailed out when I was just a kid so he's no longer in the picture. He also doesn't know that as soon as my mom gets out, I'll be kicked out of the house when she finds out I like men.

The very thing she did to her older son five years ago.

"It's about $1,600 a month," I answer with a blush. "Jared helps pay for a good portion of it, even though he doesn't live there anymore. Now that I'm making more, though, I told him I could start paying more."

Blake must sense my discomfort, because he let's the subject drop without pressing further. He's quiet for a moment.

"I never asked you this morning," he ventures. "How are you feeling?"

I raise a brow to see what he means, and his gaze drops down to my ass. My pulse quickens as his eyes travel back up my torso. My asshole involuntary clenches. It's sore, there's no doubt about it. When I sit down and stand up, the first few seconds are painful.

But each time I feel the pain, I remember why it hurts in the first place. I remember what it felt like having his dick inside me, taking me as his. Needless to say, the pain isn't so bad that I don't want to experience it again.

As in tonight. Or now, preferably.

"It's not too bad," I answer. "Nothing a little TLC can't cure."

Blake chuckles and shakes his head. "I believe that's what caused the pain in the first place."

I shrug. "What can I say? I like to prove my masculinity by toughing it out."

His eyes glaze with desire. "Feel like toughing it out right now?"

To see how much he wants me turns me on even more. In the back of my mind I know I need to address the other issues hanging between us. Like letting him know I love him.

Or simpler than that, just getting to know him – yea, on more than just a sexual level.

But for now?

All of that gets brushed aside. I hold out my hands, offering up my body in a single, sweeping gesture.

"I'm all yours, boss. Let's see what you got."