As soon as he’s out the door, I hit the intercom button on the phone. “Daphne?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m jumping into a meeting. Please hold all my calls for the rest of the afternoon. I’m not sure how long this’ll take.”
“You got it, sir.”
Getting up and crossing the room, I flick the lock on my door into place before returning to my desk and pulling up an incognito web browser. I loosen the neck of my tie as the website to one of my best-kept secrets loads. It takes no time at all to find the one I’m interested in.
Clicking on the video, it opens, filling up one of my screens. A livestream begins playing, the man behind the camera stripped down to his briefs, hands roaming all over his oil-slicked body. Dragging my eyes to the corner, I can see there are well over fifty people in this room; the messages and tips are flowing in. He’s popular on this website.
We can’t see his full face. His eyes are cut off on the top of the screen, but what we can see is nothing short of enticing and beautiful. Full cherry red lips are closed around a lollipop, one of his hands reaching up to hold on to the stick as he sucks it into his mouth teasingly while his other toys with his pebbled pink nipple.
My cock aches behind my slacks as his hand skates lower and lower on his abdomen until he’s cupping himself over the fabric. The way his body moves so fluidly with the music playing in the background is hypnotic. Tantalizing. He carries himself with an air of incomparable confidence. My thoughts drift back tothatnight… the night all this started and ended in the matter of an hour. The night that’s been a constant in the forefront of my mind since.
The Lavender Party.
Seeing him across the room, lost in his own world. The way he moved with the beat of the too-loud music, not a care in the world about who was watching. The exact moment I saw him and knew I had to have him.
And then everything got all fucked up.
Sometimes—only when I allow myself to feel sorry for myself—I think about how the fuck I wound up here. In this situation. But there really is no point in doing that because I made my bed a long time ago, and now I have to lie in it.
Exiting the web browser, I push out of my chair, stalking over to the window that overlooks the city. From the outside looking in, I have a pretty great life. I’ve done well for myself, considering where I started.
It’s not enough, though, and I don’t know if it’ll ever be.
Chapter Five
Elias Carnell
Rolling over in bed, I grab my phone from where it’s charging on the nightstand. The blinding screen tells me it’s almost midnight, and sleep isn’t coming for me any time soon. Sleep troubles are new to me. I used to sleep like a baby. I’d lie down, and as soon as my head would hit the pillow, I’d be out. Now, I’m lucky if I get a whole night’s rest uninterrupted once I spend hours tossing and turning, trying to pass out.
Kicking out of my blankets, I throw on a pair of sweats I find slung across the back of my chair and make my way downstairs. If I can’t sleep, I may as well do something other than lie angrily in bed, and I vaguely remember my mom mentioning a movie room on the first floor. What better time to explore this place than in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep?
It takes a few minutes of wandering, but eventually, I find it. It’s tucked away on the far-right side of the house, semi-close to where the formal living room is. Because, yes, Zeke is the type of rich to not only have two separate living rooms, but also have a room specifically to watch movies. Watching movies in a regular living room is for the peasants.
Upon walking in, I notice there’s a short hall from the door to the actual room. So, closing it as quietly as I can, I meander down the hall until I’m met with a dark room and a movie already playing on the wall to the left projector style. Dropping my gaze to the couch in the middle of the room, I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be in here this time of night.”
Dark eyes surrounded by even darker brows snap to me. “It’s alright.” Zeke’s gaze then dips down, making me well aware of the fact that I’m still shirtless.
At least I put my pants on.
Shifting my body toward the hallway, I mutter, “I’ll go, sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”
“You don’t have to,” he insists. “There’s plenty of room, and the movie just started.”
I stop, my attention moving to the scene taking place on the wall. My immediate thought ishell no,becausea movie with him in the very last thing I need. But… we have to live together, so I may as well learn to coexist with him without wanting to rip my hair out… right? Letting out a held breath, I can’t deny the energy in this room—his energy—feels different. More relaxed, maybe.
So, with that decided, I step farther into the room. “What are you watching?”
“The Breakfast Club.”
“What’s it about?” I ask, crossing the space to sit on the opposite end of the couch he’s on. It’s black leather, and incredibly soft. It probably cost a fortune.
He glances over at me, his brows pinched together. “Are you kidding?”
