Chapter 9
Playing the role of Blake's personal lackey starts wearing on my nerves. So far today we've looked at the possible new site location, had a three hour meeting with the bank, filled out a shit-ton of paperwork, and had two conference calls.
I look down at the time showing on my cellphone and squint. We left the hotel this morning at 9:00 AM sharp. It's been non-stop moving for a full eight hours. Did I also mention that we haven't eaten anything since breakfast?
Yea. Well, we haven't.
Blake tossed me a granola bar in between conference calls to stave off the gurgling noise that was beginning to sound like a chain saw ripping through my stomach.
A granola bar.
The only people who eat granola bars are prissy chicks who count their calories and dudes who hike up the Swiss Alps. I'm nowhere close to fitting in with either of those categories. Needless to say, the granola bar remained on the table in the conference room – uneaten.
"...Luke, I need the insurance information faxed to my office by Monday...No, I don't need any tax information yet....yes, just the insurance....thanks, Luke."
Blake lets out a content sigh and stuffs his cellphone into his breast pocket. Todd looks at him from the rearview mirror and smiles.
"How'd the day go, boss?"
Blake relaxes into the backseat of the convertible and slides his sunglasses into place. The Floridian sun and heat don't seem to bother him nearly as much as they bother me. His jacket lays overtop of his left thigh, and he carefully unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt before rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.
"It was great, Todd. Thank you."
Todd nods and then his gaze flickers to me. "And what about you, Mr. Greene? Did you enjoy your day?"
I snort and shake my head. There's no point sharing my complaints with Todd. His nose is shoved so far up Blake's ass that the tip is starting to become worn down. Blake turns towards me.
"Are you hungry, Callum?"
I roll my eyes. "Let's see. It's been over eight hours since I ate, and you've been dragging me around like a piece of luggage all day. I'm fuckin' starving."
"I offered you something to eat," Blake replies calmly.
"A granola bar isn't food. It's like cardboard clusters glued together with a hint of sugar - a failed attempt to hide the nastiness, if you ask me."
Blake smirks. "Todd, would you please drive Mr. Greene and myself to the hotel? I think he could use a touch of lunch."
"A touch?" I ask incredulously. "More like a lust-filled affair with it."
Blake lowers his sunglasses so I can see his eyes. "Well there you go, Callum. It looks like you'll get that lust-filled session after all."
He says this as a joke, but his words take me back to our little confrontation from the night before. You know, the one where he banned me from practically even looking at someone if the intention of sex was on my mind?
What a jackass.
I've heard of overbearing bosses before, but never did I think that one would try to run and single-handedly ruin my social life.
"'Course boss," Todd says and types in the directions into his GPS. "We'll be there in just a few."
I cross my arms over my chest and slump against my seat. I'm not entirely sure which I'm more pissed off about – Blake's boyfriend coming into town so he can have sex, or him banning me from having it myself. Maybe it's both.
By the time Todd pulls alongside the curb of the hotel, I'm more than ready to get out of the sun and away from the sweltering heat. I undo my seat belt and hop out of the car, not bothering to open the door before I do so. Unlike last night, I'm the one who enters the hotel first, leaving Blake to say his farewells to his doting driver.
"Hello Mr. Greene!" a hotel employee greets me the very second my feet shuffle through the entrance.
I glance up. The woman staring back at me blushes. A tendril of her thick, auburn hair is delicately pushed behind her ear as she waits for me to respond. I grin back at her, admiring the rise and fall of her scantily covered breasts with every breath she takes.
The woman moves around the hotel counter, and my eyes finish perusing her 'assets.' Her feminine curves are an automatic ten points in her favor. Believe it or not, I'm not the shallowest dude out there. But, I do have a preference...and feeling like I won't snap a chick in half when I get her into bed is definitely a preference.
"And hello to you too, Miss...?"
"Melissa," she finishes for me. "I'm Melissa."
I close the distance between us and offer up a hand. "It's great to meet you, Melissa."
"You too, Mr. Greene."
"Please," I correct her. "Call me Callum."
"Callum."
She tries my name on her red, voluptuous lips, her voice like warm honey as it envelopes the small space between us.
"You got it. So tell me Melissa, what might my chances be if I asked out one of the hotel employees for a late-night drink?"
Melissa's blush intensifies, and her heady scent wafts to my nose and begins revving my testosterone engine into gear. These are the types of situations where I thrive. These are the moments that start as innocent foreplay and end in a single night of passion.
"That's enough, Callum," Blake's deep voice snaps from behind me.
Melissa's eyes widen as her focus shifts to Blake. Once again, to my sheer horror, the second I get a whiff of his masculine scent, my dick has a fan-man moment and begins to harden.
If anyone else talked to me like this – and I mean anyone – I'd have zero problem putting them in their rightful place. Yet the words of rebuttal refuse to form. My lips remain clamped shut, and I find myself giving a nod of consent.
I don't bother waving goodbye or trying to finish my conversation with Melissa. Instead I simply spin on my heels and trudge towards the elevator in a state of fury and confusion.
Blake steps into the spacious elevator just moments behind me. As soon as the door closes, he slips his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. His eyes are like black crystals as they stare down at me. A muscle along his jaw line twitches, a subtle sign of his own anger that he refuses to show on an otherwise masked expression.
"Mr. Greene, has your deep-rooted hunger impaired your memory?"
"What? No."
What the hell is he talking about?
Blake finishes removing his sunglasses. He nods once. Stiffly. He pulls out a white cloth from his pocket and leans against the side wall of the elevator. His fingers move in a circular motion as he begins to clean the lenses of his sunglasses.
"I see." His voice drops to a whisper, each word more calculated than the last. "Then you're purposely trying to piss me off?"
"What? No! I just thought..."
My voice trails off. I just thought...what? Now that Blake's boyfriend is coming into town that I'm free to do as I please? Or that if I pissed him off enough he'd cancel bringing his boyfriend in the first place?
"Your instructions are bull," I correct myself with shaky confidence. "And you can't say shit about me hitting on anyone, especially with your boyfriend coming into town tomorrow morning. That's not very professional, now is it Mr. Benson?"
The silence following my sneering question seems to sizzle with heat. Blake's fiery gaze studies me from head to toe. Is he checking me out? Gross. I don't want some man loving douche bag giving me the once over.
So...why am I hard as a rock?
Blake straightens his spine, and the couple inches of height he has on me seem to go on for miles.
"While you're on this trip, Callum, you're here to work. Nothing more. Unfortunately for you, not only do I pay your check every week, but also I am the CEO of the entire company. My company, my terms, my rules."
"Then I'll just quit."
A dark smirk spreads across Blake's lips. "I wouldn't suggest it. You signed a contract with me, one that would be very costly to you should you choose to back out before the designated end date."
"You're bullshitting me," I sputter.
"Hardly. It's not my fault you didn't read the contract over more closely before signing."
My heart races in my chest, the blood rushing so fast I can feel it pulsing in my ears. Every argument I have is deflated when it comes to him. He either finds a way to counter my words or he ignores them completely. Not knowing any other angle to choose, I cock my head to the side and lower my voice.
"I'll file a complaint if I have to hear you have nasty faggot sex."
Blake doesn't look surprised in the slightest by my words, but there's an emotion in my voice that I don't intend to be there.
"Is that so, Mr. Greene?"
"Yea. It's disgusting."
He hums in his throat. There's speculation and amusement gleaming in his gaze. He gives a final brush of his cloth to his sunglasses and then gestures down my body.
"Then please – do explain to me why you've had a boner throughout this entire conversation."
"I...it's...Melissa!" I exclaim. "That chick was hot as hell."
Blake narrows his eyes. Seeing his reaction only spurs me on further.
"I've been picturing bending her over," I continue. "I can just imagine how she'd look as I slowly pulled down her skirt and –"
"That's enough."
Blake closes the distance between us, pinning me into the corner of the elevator. His scent becomes overwhelming as he raises his hands above my head to box me in. My heartbeat throbs, both seeming to speed up and slow down at the same time.
"If I didn't know any better, Callum," Blake says with a heated whisper. "I could swear your disgust and outrage is simply a defensive mechanism."
"Pfft. What's that supposed to mean?"
Blake moves his head closer to mine and his lips are mere inches away from my own. Holy shit. His breath is the source of the rest of his scent; it has to be. Every breath that pushes past his lips caresses my skin in a wave of warmth and seduction.
"I think you're jealous, Callum," my boss whispers.