Chapter 72
Chapter 72:
“Felicity, you should go.
That phone has been buzzing for the past hour. Go, work will still be here tomorrow,” I waved my hand dismissively, but she only rolled her eyes at me.
The forty-year-old woman looked like she could use another cup of coffee. But I knew her son was counting on her to be at his high school football game.
“Your son will be looking for you in the crowd. He wants you to watch him play. Stop. Felicity, go. Pierce is still here. He can assist me.” I wasn’t planning on staying longer than necessary. I just needed to send a couple more emails and print a few legal documents for tomorrow’s meeting. Pierce, the guy from admin that Felicity always spoke highly of, was on his way to help me.
The moment Felicity left, I leaned back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the weight of the tension in my mind. I got up, sauntered to the mini bar, and poured myself a glass of amber-colored liquor, adding a couple of ice cubes. My hand instinctively went to my neck, massaging the tightness away, only to notice the added stiffness from sitting for so long.
“Do you want me to help with that? My ex was a massage therapist, and he taught me a few things. You look like you could use an amateur massage therapist,” Dion Pierce entered my office, holding his tablet and a stack of paperwork that Felicity had said he was going to drop off.
Okay, so… Dion’s ex was a man, and the man smirked at me knowingly. Ghazi had told me early in our relationship that he could spot when I was gay.
That was how he knew I was attracted to him.
I knew I had glanced at Dion Pierce a few times, though I didn’t think he noticed. I didn’t even know if he was gay. I looked at him because he was handsome, that was it. I didn’t think he would flirt with me. Mixing work with pleasure was never my thing, let alone a gay flirtation. It was definitely a big no-no for me.
But Dion didn’t seem to share that sentiment. He boldly walked toward me, standing inches away before placing the documents on my desk along with his tablet. His hand subtly brushed the side of my arm. I was still wearing my suit jacket while he had loosened his tie after working hours ended two hours ago, and most people had gone home.
He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, revealing his veiny forearms, and I couldn’t help but stare. “Mr. Davenport,” he smirked, clearly aware that I was checking him out.
The whiskey burned as it went down my throat, but the man in front of me ignited my arousal when he touched my shoulder, applying skillful pressure to my muscles. He worked out a knot of tension, and I let out a stifled moan.
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“Damn, Pierce, you need to put this on your CV,” I relaxed back in my chair as he moved behind me, the heel of his hands pressing deep into my shoulder.
“I’m making sure Felicity moves you to our floor. Your skill clearly hasn’t been appreciated,” he said with a chuckle, leaning in closer. He applied more delightful pressure between my shoulder blades. “Oh, God… right there,” I moaned, allowing him to slip off my suit jacket when he suggested it would make things easier. My tie followed, and within minutes, my shirt was unbuttoned. His hands slid past my collarbones, teasing me before returning to massage my shoulders.
My dick was so hard, but I stayed still, knowing that if I moved, he would definitely notice.
“So, I’m going to go back,” he said suddenly, his hands disappearing. I sighed, missing the touch. But then he gave me a devious smile, prolonging his exit as if he were waiting for me to say something.
“I’m… I’m not out,” I told him, my voice hesitant.
There was no point in hiding my sexuality; he damn well knew that no straight guy would let another man give him a sensual massage and moan eagerly for more.
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