On the other hand, my bed was comfy, and I didn’t really feel like moving. My mind was still idly turning over the idea of Simon on his knees in front of me, riding a dildo while deep throating my cock, and I started wondering if there was a way I could suggest it to him.
He seemed to be pretty open to most things, in a way that had almost surprised me. I’d always thought of him as someone who’d be demanding and pushy in bed; the sort of guy who’d happily bend some young twink over while making him see stars. But I’d based that on his size, and now that I knew what he liked, it all made perfect sense.
Simon was six foot three and pure muscle, but he was also shy and unsure and desperately needed someone to take care of him. He needed someone to show him just how amazing he really was.
A knock on the door interrupted my train of thought, and I was glad for the distraction.
“Hey,” I called out, before realising that I was still shirtless and half-undressed, my boxers and joggers still halfway around my thighs. “Shit.” I tried to haul them up as the door opened.
“Am I interrupting?” Simon’s face appeared around the door, wearing a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
“No,” I said, pulling my clothes into place and reclining back on the bed. “I’m done.”
“Have fun?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I was bored, and you were busy.”
Simon laughed, shaking his head. “Are you that hard up?”
“No, I have you.”
He rolled his eyes, but pink spread across his cheeks at my words. I had a sneaking suspicion he liked the idea of being used for my pleasure, that he enjoyed being the one who helped me unload and relax.
He really was full of surprises.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” he said, his eyes not leaving my naked chest. “Then I didn’t know if you fancied another episode of Final Cause? Steve’s still watching another one of his true-crime shows so I thought we could watch it in here?”
“Sounds great,” I said. “I’m gonna shower too, so just come in here when you’re ready.”
“Cool. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said, unable to resist shooting him a wink and watching in satisfaction as the soft blush on his skin deepened.
He was so fucking beautiful, and I was so fucking doomed.
As he closed the door, I rolled over and groaned into my pillow.
How the fuck was I going to get out of this situation alive?
Somehow, I didn’t think that was possible anymore.
Part Three: Toys
Taylor
I was incredibly glad I’d been allowed to escape the office for the afternoon, even if it did mean sloping around London looking at potential venues for the fucking client-tutor party I’d been forced to organise.
Ethan had spent the morning tap dancing on my last nerve while offering up constant “suggestions”. I’d been this close to telling him to fucking do it himself before shoving my notebook down his throat.
Obviously, I did no such thing because I’d like to continue being paid, and I’d rather not end up in prison. Sure, I’d probably be running the place in a week, but I didn’t want to have to go through the hassle.
I stepped out of the Tube station, pulling out my phone and hastily tapping the next potential venue’s address into maps, praying it wasn’t too far. This was venue number five, and my feet were killing me.
Despite asking me to organise everything, Ethan had helpfully provided a list of places he’d booked for me to look at. Unsurprisingly, they were dotted all over the fucking city, and at least forty-minutes away from each other. It looked like he’d just opened a map and thrown darts at the fucking thing, picking the nearest venue to where they’d landed.
So far I’d been to a grimy pub, an upscale restaurant with the capacity of about six people, a painfully hipster brewery, and an art gallery showcasing a collection of terrifying, screaming statues. I’d nearly picked the last one just so I could drag Simon along to suffer the horrifying artwork with me, until I realised he’d probably enjoy it.
I hadn’t quite discounted it though because Ethan hated anything vaguely horror based, and I wasn’t quite above petty revenge.
I followed the directions my phone had given me down some narrow streets and through a courtyard of pretty boutique shops that I made a mental note to examine further on my way back. Especially because there was a tiny whiskey shop tucked in the middle, and I had a feeling I was going to need a drink after this.
The venue turned out to be a secret garden-themed restaurant, with flower garlands hung from the ceilings and little lanterns dotted around everywhere. I had to admit it was quite pretty. What sealed the deal was the function space they had above the main restaurant and the fact that the food and drinks package wasn’t going to ruin the piddly little budget I’d been given.
It was only four thirty, but I’d already decided I wasn’t going back to the office this afternoon. I was going to enjoy the last hour and a half of my day as a well-earned respite, especially because I knew I’d have to spend the entire rest of the week listening to Ethan talk about what a genius he was for finding such a perfect venue while I tried not to claw my own eyes out.
Maybe Simon was right. Maybe I did need to find another job.
Sighing to myself, I pottered back towards the little courtyard of boutiques, wondering if it was too early to buy alcohol. I looked at the row of shops, reading the neat signage and examining the window
