After briefly considering breaking those interrupting fingers, I sighed as I took a step to the side, offering some room. It didn’t make much difference. My frame filled the majority of the small, cramped space no matter where I stood.
The two men who appeared when the doors fully retracted had my entire body humming with approval. I wasn’t sure what it was about the cowboy and the pretty boy that heated my blood and made me want to do wickedly dirty things to them, but there was something. I’d felt it since the day I encountered them on Trent Ramsey’s private jet. The two masochists had somehow wriggled into my subconscious and it’d been hell not thinking about them since.
“Zeke,” the pretty boy said as he stepped on and moved to the opposite side of the elevator.
I didn’t respond.
The cowboy wasn’t quite as chatty. After he punched the button for the thirty-third floor, his emerald-green eyes lifted to my face but instantly dropped. I had to wonder if he was thinking about what happened on Friday night, when I’d caught them fucking in the shower at the club.
The doors finally closed, sealing the three of us inside. Tank whimpered and I glanced down to see his tail wagging so hard his ass was bouncing back and forth.
“Greet them, boy,” I ordered the dog.
Tank was instantly on his feet as he moved closer. I watched as both men smiled widely before showering my dog with stupid greetings and full-body pats. It would’ve helped if they hadn’t taken to my dog. I didn’t need a reason to like them and the fact they liked Tank didn’t help.
“Enough,” I barked a few seconds later.
Following my command, Tank backed up until he was heeling at my feet while the cowboy and the pretty boy stood stone-still, their eyes dropping to the floor.
Good to know that command worked on more than my dog.
“What’re you here for?” I asked, wondering which of them would be brave enough to speak.
The pretty boy was the one to lift his head. “Justin asked us to look at a couple of apartments.”
I allowed my gaze to trail over the dragon peeking out from beneath the neck of his tight T-shirt. “For?”
“Temporary residence,” he said, although it sounded more like a question. “We’ve accepted the job offers and we’re moving here at the end of the week.”
“What does Trent think of you abandoning him?” I questioned.
The pretty boy grinned. “We’re still employed by him. Will be until everything’s up and running. It’ll probably be a year before we’re needed in our new roles.”
“A year, huh? And you’ll be here in Chicago?”
“Yes,” the pretty boy said, his eyes heating. He evidently knew the route my brain had taken.
“Good. I can think of a few things to keep you busy.”
“Really?” The pretty boy looked far too hopeful.
“Provided you don’t mind being naked and on all fours for a majority of the time. I can think of at least a few dozen ways to use you for my own benefit.”
They’d lucked out that day. I didn’t require either of them to give me an answer or to crawl around on all fours to interview for the position because the elevators had opened on my floor and I’d stepped out without a word, leaving them to take care of their business.
What I’d wanted to do was have them come into my office so I could pick up where we’d left off at the club the Friday before.
Looked as though I was going to get the opportunity to do so now.
I let my eyes stray to the floor-to-ceiling windows and the building that was directly across from me. I wondered what those old boys across the way would think if they saw a couple of naked masochists posing as furniture in my office.
I glanced at the keys and smiled.
Yeah. This might end up being a good day after all.
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
“AH, CHRIST! THERE’S CONCRETE EVERYWHERE, Brax. I’m gonna lose my mind.” I gripped my head dramatically because what else was I going to do? Somehow I had to make Brax feel my pain.
“We’re in a parking garage,” he stated, not giving in to my drama.
“It’s not any better on the street,” I said as I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes when we stepped out of the shaded parking area. It didn’t make much of a difference because the brilliant Chicago sun was blocked out by all the surrounding concrete.
I should’ve felt bad for giving him shit, but I didn’t. I knew Brax was exhausted after that hellacious road trip. So was I and I’d taken plenty of naps throughout. In my defense, I wasn’t a huge Florida Georgia Line fan (I preferred Brantley Gilbert), but the man I’d fallen in love with was. So, in an effort to save myself from wanting to jump out of a moving vehicle, I’d feigned sleep until it finally caught on.
