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  "Is that enough?"

  "It's more than enough." He took Samuel's mouth again, letting his fingers push into the back of the man's pants so he could squeeze the hot skin. Samuel moaned into his kiss, fingers tugging at his waistband.

  He pulled out of the kiss and grabbed Samuel's hands in his as he said, "No. I said with your mouth and I meant it."

  Samuel growled, pulled him into a hard, needy kiss.

  He pulled out of it a moment later and stood. "Don't try and distract me, Sammy. It's not going to work."

  "I wasn't!" Samuel looked so hot when he was frustrated.

  "No? Then get to work on my pants. With your mouth."

  "Fucker." Samuel growled, then balanced himself on Jarrod's thighs, worked his slacks open, so very slowly.

  "I might have to get out that paddle if you're going to start calling me names."

  "No." Sammy groaned, worked his zipper down.

  "Then you'd better be a good boy, Sammy."

  He didn't suck his belly in or anything, didn't make it any easier on Samuel. Samuel's growl vibrated on his cockhead.

  "Mmm. You want another taste of me?" His prick jerked at the thought.

  His zipper was eased down, so slowly it was maddening.

  It made him growl some more. "Sammy..."

  "What? I'm trying not to hurt you!"

  "I never said you were trying to hurt me--you are making me crazy, though."

  "That's good." Sammy sounded a little like he was getting his own back and then his zipper started slowly moving down again.

  Jarrod chuckled, and then nodded. "It is." He gently stroked Samuel's cheek.

  Sammy's skin blushed a sweet pink.

  "Keep going," he insisted.

  Sammy opened his slacks, baring his cock. He groaned as the air hit his now heated flesh. Sammy leaned back, lips open.

  "You want it, don't you? You want to suck on my cock more than you want another breath."

  "I want to see your ink." Sammy's eyes were on his prick though.

  "You can have both."

  Sammy moaned softly, leaned forward, tongue sliding along his shaft. Jarrod groaned, his prick jerking against Samuel's tongue. His slacks were pushed past his knees as Sammy wrapped hot lips around the tip of his cock. He ran his fingers roughly through Sammy's hair.

  "Hot little slut." He moaned out his pleasure. "Hungry cocksucker."

  Sammy's cheeks were burning. The suction increased, though, and Jarrod knew that not only was it the truth, but his words had turned Sammy on even more.

  "That's right, suck it. Make me come down your throat." He cupped the back of Sammy's head, hips rolling as they fucked his prick into Sammy's mouth. "So fucking good. You're such a good little cock sucker."

  Sammy whimpered, hand sliding down, working his own prick.

  "No touching!" Jarrod growled at Sammy. That was his cock.

  Those eyes flashed up to him.

  "You heard me, Sammy."

  Samuel's hand ended up on Jarrod's calf.

  "Good man." He moved his hips faster, stronger.

  Sammy swallowed around the tip of his prick, groaned with each press in.

  "Oh, fuck." Thank God he'd already come today or it would all be over. As it was, he could make Sammy work for it. "That's it, Sammy, work my cock."

  Sammy took him in to the root, deep-throated him, fingers rolling his nuts.

  "Fuck!" It wasn't going to take too many swallows around the tip for him to go off after all. And Sammy was giving them to him, one after another.

  "Fuck! Fuck!" He was almost there. He held on tighter to Sammy's head, thrust in deep and felt his balls emptying as he came. Sammy swallowed him down, groaning around his cock, hips fucking the air.

  His orgasm seemed to stretch out, each swallow making it last longer, until finally his cock became too sensitive and he pulled slowly away.

  "Damn." He needed to reward Sammy for that, and with something more than just tugging him off.

  Samuel's cheeks were bright red, lips swollen, sweet.

  "Get up here. I want to taste myself in your mouth."

  Sammy swallowed and moaned, and he hauled the hot son of a bitch up, plundering the swollen lips. He could taste himself there, he could taste himself and Sammy and, fuck, it made him want more even if he'd just come. Beautiful yielding bastard. Sammy was his fucking wet dream.

  He wrapped is hand around Sammy's prick, jacked it slowly. "Work the fucking plug in your ass."

  Those pretty blue eyes rolled, body jerking as those glutes tightened.

  "Fuck, yes." So fucking obedient. Whatever denials came out of Sammy's mouth, the man's body was so eager to please. Such a good boy, so hungry and wanton.

  Jarrod reached back and twisted the base of the plug, turning it inside Sammy's eager hole. Sammy tried to jerk away, lips open on a moan.

  "Where are you going?" he demanded, twisting the plug again.

  "I..."

  "Where's your bed?"

  Sammy pointed down the hall.

  He grabbed hold of Sammy's upper arm and dragged him in the way the man had pointed. He was going to make Sammy scream with it.

  The bedroom was dark and masculine, strong. There were a few light accents, too, some pictures on the wall that promised to be interesting, but honestly, he wasn't interested in much more than the huge bed that dominated the room.

  He pushed Sammy right down onto it. Sammy bounced, cock trapped in his briefs. There was a huge wet spot where it had been leaking and Jarrod licked his lips. Sammy spread for him, hips rolling up.

  "Sexy, needy fucker."

  "Shut up."

  Oh, he didn't think so. "You want me to gag you?" He climbed onto the bed, straddling Sammy's body, his ink looking dark against Sammy's skin.

  "No." That sweet cock was dripping for him.

  "Then play nice."

  Sammy's hands were climbing up his belly, tracing his ink.

  "You like my dragons?"

  "They're beautiful."

  "Thank you." He let Sammy take another moment to admire--he wanted the man to think he was hot, sexy. God knew he felt that way about Sammy.

  He bent and bit at Sammy's right nipple.

  Those fingers grabbed his head. "Ow."

  Grinning, he moved over and bit the other nipple, too. With this one, though, he soothed the hurt with his tongue.

  "Toothy ass."

  He growled and bit Sammy's nipple again.

  "Oh." Sammy arched, moaned softly. "Oh, fuck..."

  "That's coming. I swear."

  "Good." Sammy's ass was working that plug.

  "If you come without my permission, I'm going to have to punish you."

  "What?" Look at that prick leap.

  "You heard me." He reached out and flicked the tip of Sammy's prick.

  "Fuck!" Sammy grabbed his wrist with one hand, that needy cock with the other.

  "Oh, I don't think so." He grabbed Sammy's hands and pulled them up over the man's head.

  "Fuck..." Sammy arched so pretty.

  "You don't touch your cock unless you have my permission. I mean ever. Understand?"

  Sammy's entire body flushed a lovely red. "You can't--"

  "Oh, yes, I can." He squeezed Sammy's hands. "Just watch me. And if I have to, I'll put a cage on you, one with a lock and I'll be the only one with a key." Sammy was going to come, just from him talking. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Sitting in a meeting, my cage around your cock, holding you to my will."

  "Stop talking. I would not."

  "You would. You'd get off on it, only you couldn't because of the cage, which would get you off, but you couldn't... God, it would be the hottest vicious circle ever."

  "Hush." Sammy looked like pure sex, rocking under him, trying to get off.

  "Why would I do that when you're so obviously turned on by what I'm talking about? Your body betrays you, Sammy."

  Sammy pulled at his hands, turned his face toward those stretched arms.


  He put both wrists into one hand and grabbed Sammy's chin, turned it. "No hiding."

  "Stop it..."

  "No." He shook his head, but didn't break his stare.

  "You're crazy-making."

  He grinned. "I try."

  Sammy actually chuckled a bit.

  He flicked the right nipple. "Gonna get these pierced, too."

  "Never gonna happen."

  "Sure it is. Because you're going to do whatever I tell you to like a good boy." He pinched the other nipple, hard. He loved how Sammy bucked, hips fucking the air now. "Between the barbells in your nipples and the cage around your cock, you'll be such a naughty, wicked boy under your business suit. And no one but you and I will know."

  He leaned down, rested their foreheads together. "I almost forgot. You'll have that fat, unforgettable plug in your sweet ass, too." He was going to make Sammy come just from his words, and then fuck him, then punish him for coming without permission.

  They were both gonna love it.

  "Bastard..."

  "And you love it. You love hearing about the things I'm going to do to you. About how I'm going to pierce you and cage you and fill you and make you go to work like that. Where the only relief you'll get will be when I let you suck me in the bathroom."

  Sammy pulled at his hand, tugged, hard, sobbing with pure need.

  "I'll bind you for telephone conferences. Cuff you to your desk."

  "Shut up!" So close, his fine boy was so fucking close.

  "Don't be silly, you don't want me to shut up. You want me to tell you about how I'm going to thread your tie through the nipple rings and tug on it." He licked the curve of Sammy's ear. "Or how I'll have the skin behind your balls pierced, a chain locking that plug into you until I let you go."

  Sammy barked out a sharp cry, heat spraying between them.

  He shook his head, but he was smiling. "You are a bad, bad boy, Sammy, coming when I told you that you couldn't."

  "You..." Sammy groaned, still caught in it. "You made me."

  "I was holding your hands, Sammy. I didn't touch you."

  "You did."

  He shook his head, grinned. "Nope."

  "Uh-huh." Sammy's lips parted, tongue flicking out to wet them.

  "I never went near your prick." He was going to now, though. He was going to bind the man and not let him come until Sunday night.

  Sammy reached for a hand towel sitting next to the bed.

  "You don't get to touch yourself, remember? I really do think a cage is the way to go." He grabbed the hand towel and nodded toward the top of the bed. "Hands up on the headboard."

  "What?" Sammy's hands moved.

  "If I can see them around the headboard, I'll know you aren't doing anything you're not supposed to with them.

  "I can..." Sammy looked beautiful arched up like that.

  "You can what?" He began to slowly clean Sammy's belly.

  Sammy's eyes crossed, muscles rippling. "I..."

  He stopped cleaning, looked at Sammy, one eyebrow raised as he waited.

  "I was going to say I could do it myself."

  "No, your hands are on the headboard. You can't do it."

  He didn't get an answer, just a soft moan.

  He kept gently stroking with the towel long after Sammy's belly and cock were clean; now he was just stimulating, giving Sammy more sensations to rock his world. That poor, needy cock was trying valiantly to fill again.

  Had no one ever given Samuel even a little bit of what he so desperately wanted? Jarrod thought maybe not.

  He leaned down and kissed Sammy's chest, feeling the heartbeat on his lips. "Don't worry, Sammy--I'm going to take care of you."

  One hand landed on the back of his head, the touch gentle.

  The weird thing was, Jarrod meant it.

  Chapter 6

  Samuel woke up slowly, sore and warm and so fucking happy. Last night had blown his mind. He'd never brought a lover home, never let anyone turn him inside out like Jarrod had. He reached to see if Jarrod was still there, but the sheets were cold. Bummer. He'd hoped for the weekend together, but still, he got it. Mostly.

  At least that's what he told the ache in the center of his chest. That ache disappeared when he sat up, saw Jarrod's jacket and shoes still lying haphazardly on the floor.

  Oh. Oh, he was still here!

  Samuel grabbed a robe and wrapped it around himself. There was coffee and bacon and he could have danishes delivered from that little place on the corner, even if it was Saturday...

  He heard typing, then a frustrated sigh. "Look, man. I'm not finding what you're looking for. I've been on every computer, his iPad, his phone. Hell, I went through his personal file cabinet this morning."

  Samuel stood there, right outside the door of his home office, and swayed like he'd been punched.

  "Damn it, I'm telling you--there's nothing to find except the letter from the probate lawyer letting him know he was inheriting a wad of money from his grandfather's estate... I know that... No... It doesn't matter. He's not your guy."

  Okay.

  Okay.

  He crept back to his room and dressed with numb fingers. Idiot. He was an idiot. He'd jeopardized his entire life--career, home, his clients--for a perverse need. He'd let Jerrod in and...the man was sent to spy on him.

  Samuel slipped on his socks, his shoes, a thick sweater. When he felt protected enough, he gathered Jarrod's clothes up and headed for the office.

  Business the first--get the man out of his house. Business the second--change all his passwords. Business the third... Well, he'd have to figure that out.

  Jarrod was still talking as he got to his office, though it sounded more like he was muttering to himself than on the phone now. "Assholes...stupid idiots...listen to me."

  He heard his computer power down, the sound of a drawer opening or closing.

  He stepped in the office, put the rest of Jarrod's clothes down. "If there's a file you need, you can always ask Jeannie. She had full access."

  Jarrod froze with his hand on a half-closed drawer. Then he closed it and turned slowly.

  "Here are your clothes. If you're not out in five, I'm calling security." Samuel turned and headed for the kitchen for his phone and a Red Bull.

  "Wait up, Sammy. This isn't what it looks like." Jarrod grabbed his arm just before he hit the kitchen. "You're making assumptions here."

  "Four minutes. I suggest you dress while you explain." He was a fool.

  Jarrod shook his head. "You were under investigation--I was proving that it wasn't you. I just saved your ass."

  "That's why you were here. Was it the firm that paid you?" God, he was never going back there. Never.

  "That's why we met, but that's not why I'm here. What we have has nothing to do with the investigation, aside from making me work harder to clear your name." Jarrod pushed him up against the wall, pressed close. "This is real, Sammy."

  "Bullshit." He shoved Jarrod away. "You're at two and a half. Get out of my house."

  "It is not bullshit! You think I can fake this kind of involvement? You think I'd whore myself out for a job?" Jarrod pushed back into his space, rubbed their groins together.

  "Don't." He slipped away, keeping himself quiet, calm. "I can't...I'm finished. Never again." He was never going to let himself be in that position again.

  "You're just going to throw away your fantasy come true? Don't you get it? I did it--I proved that you weren't the leak. Someone was trying to set you up and I saved you."

  "You lied to me. All you had to do was ask for access." He met Jarrod's eyes, heart breaking. "This isn't my fantasy. My fantasy... There's supposed to be trust, right? In my fantasies, I'm not the fool." In his fantasies, he was...necessary, too.

  He turned and went to his office, locked the door behind him and started changing passwords so that he could write his letter of resignation.

  "Sammy!" Jarrod banged on the door to his office. "Damn it--open the door, Sammy."

  No.
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  No, he was done.

  He'd told himself that last night was to get Jarrod out from under his skin. Now he just had to believe it.

  Chapter 7

  Jarrod slammed out of the offices of Bailey, Billings, Hering and Weir.

  Samuel had fucking resigned.

  Jarrod had exonerated him--in fact, once he'd managed to convince the higher ups that Samuel was being framed, they'd been able to find the actual culprit.

  He'd spent most of the day being debriefed and then went to clear out his desk. His plan had been to talk to Sammy then, make the man understand that their personal relationship had been just that--it had nothing to do with the job. That was kind of hard to do when the man wasn't in his office, though.

  Karen had been happy to fill him in on the gossip: Brewster had been arrested; Samuel had resigned--he hadn't even bothered to come in for any of the stuff in his office, just sent in an email and nobody had been able to get in touch with him. The firm was in a shambles.

  Jarrod had called Sammy's cell phone repeatedly. The first two calls had gone to voice mail, the subsequent ones to a message that the customer he was trying to reach was out of service.

  Jarrod just hoped that Sammy was at home because that was the extent of his knowledge of how to contact the man and there was no fucking way he was letting Samuel Cavanaugh walk out of his life.

  Not when they fit so fucking well together. Not when the sex had been off the goddamn charts. Not when he knew exactly what to do to blow Sammy's mind and fulfill every last one of his fucking fantasies. Not when he was in fucking love with the bastard.

  Yeah, that last one had kind of rocked him to the core.

  He knew he'd come to care for Sammy, knew the man meant far more to him than a job, but love. Shit, Jarrod wasn't sure he believed in it. But there it was.

  It was dark by the time he'd made his way through the fucking traffic to Sammy's building and then parking had been a nightmare. He had to walk four blocks back to the place. He was shifting between anger and worry, but really, he was just worried. What if Samuel had already gone?

  He put his finger on the buzzer for Sammy's place, holding it down a good ten, fifteen seconds.

  "Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested."

  "Let me in, Sammy." He was not doing this out on the street. He was not doing this where Sammy could ignore him by simply hanging up the intercom.