Better Than Chance (12 page)

“Honey, do you want me to grab you another cup of coffee? You look like maybe you could use an energy boost.” She was trying to be helpful. I could see the worry in her eyes, and I felt bad. I needed to snap out of it.

“I’m fine. Sorry.” I sighed and shifted my attention to my computer screen. I knew the spreadsheets and reports well. I had written them. I wasn’t overly concerned about being unprepared. But there was no place for lethargy in my field. I needed to act like I had the bull by the horns even when I wanted nothing more than to stare out my window with my feet on my desk, nursing a steamed latte with extra foam.

“Okay, then. Your meeting is in five minutes.”

In other words: Get off your ass, Jay. I flashed her a bright smile that must have restored her confidence in me a smidge. She gave a sigh of relief and a smile of her own, as she stood up to leave my office.

“Go get ’em, boss!”

My mood over the past week was odd and off. I didn’t know how to categorize what was wrong with me. I had been excited and relieved to be starting this new project, especially without the added distraction of Peter being involved. Now that it had started, though, I was less than motivated. And if I were completely honest, I was feeling a little let down and out of sorts about my recent dealings with the man himself. I couldn’t even really say why. I needed to adjust my attitude before it seeped into my professional life.

I grabbed my suit jacket and laptop and headed toward the conference room. I hated giving presentations in the glass-enclosed room when my audience consisted of one or two. I didn’t mind it for larger crowds because that’s what it was designed for. Somehow giving a formal speech in that huge arena smacked of headlining a concert in a giant stadium and having only a few people buy tickets. Pathetic.

Positive attitude, I reminded myself as I opened the glass door and donned my most pleasant smile for Gary Smith, my new project leader. Gary was an affable, easy-going guy. He was short, round, balding, and always had a smile on his homely face. He was the very antithesis of my previous project lead.

“Hey there, Jay. We can begin in a minute. We’re waiting for one more person to joi—oh great, here he is! Jay Reynolds, this is Peter Morgan. I’m not sure if you two have met but….”

Gary’s voice was reduced to a buzzing sound in the background as Peter and I stared at one another. My mouth went dry. I didn’t expect to have to do this again so soon. I had assumed I’d have some time to regroup, even at work, because he wasn’t taking the lead in the segment I was assigned to. All I knew was I needed to pull myself together fast.

“Yes, Gary. Jay was a team member on our solar project,” Peter replied smoothly, deftly filling in the silence before it became awkward.

“Terrific! Well, listen. Jay, I wanted Peter to sit in on this preliminary presentation. As you are aware, Peter is an expert in the energy and utility field. He graciously agreed to sit in on a few of our prep sessions to make sure we are on the correct path as it relates to our client’s needs.”

Gary rubbed his pudgy hands together gleefully. I assumed that had more to do with having our “expert” in the room rather than that he was excited about my presentation. I cleared my throat and offered Peter a cordial greeting before indicating that I was ready to begin. Peter bent his head in approval and offered a slight smile as he took his seat at the table. I bit the inside of my cheek before forcing a smile and getting on with my task.

Speaking in front of people didn’t bother me the way it did some of my associates. I got butterflies on occasion, but that was usually beforehand. Once I was in front of a crowd, I generally was able to focus on the work and not my nerves. Peter’s presence was a game-changer for sure. I was nervous, which made me angry. All the familiar negative feelings I’d harbored toward him while we worked on the last project resurfaced. It was unreasonable and I knew it. But it didn’t change anything.

When I’d completed the presentation run-through, I turned to face Gary and Peter, bracing for the worst. Gary was wearing the happy grin of a proud parent. Obviously he was pleased.
Whew!
A glance at Peter told me he didn’t share the same enthusiasm.
Fuck.

“Great, Jay! Peter, any recommendations on how we might tighten up our message at all?” Gary was like a Labrador, eager to please and hoping to hit the right note with both of us. However, Peter’s opinion counted more than mine, so I gamely awaited his verdict.

“Very good. I would like to make a recommendation regarding the order of….”

Oh my God! It was happening again! I couldn’t fucking believe this. Steam had to be coming out of my ears. My skin felt unnaturally flushed and warm as a wave of anger sparked and sent me spinning from a steady simmer to a nasty, frothing boil in seconds flat. I had to get out of that glass conference room before the whole damn office witnessed me strangling Peter fucking Morgan.

A cell phone rang. Gary looked down and quickly apologized as he jumped up from his chair, assuring us he’d be back in a jiffy. We were alone. Peter and I in a fish bowl. I was aware of people passing outside the thin wall of glass as we stared at each other without speaking.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off quickly.

“What the fuck is your problem with me really? I used to think maybe it was personal. That maybe you disliked me because I was gay. Now at least I know it’s not that. So what is it? You are constantly nitpicking and I… what is it that you have such a problem with? I really want to know!”

My voice had risen in volume as I warmed up to my topic. I noticed an intern’s wide eyes take in our “conversation” through the glass and was immediately mortified. The room had some acoustic integrity, but it was by no means soundproof. Peter looked completely baffled and more than a little displeased.

“Come,” he commanded.

He was already out the door and halfway down the hall when I caught sight of him. Along the way, he barked a set of orders to someone who jumped to do his bidding. No doubt they all noticed me following in his wake, like a lamb on its way to the slaughter. They’d probably even heard my raised voice or would hear some version of “what the intern saw” later at the water cooler. I held my head high, holding onto my anger with a vise grip as a fresh wave of humiliation threatened to unman me.

Peter walked into a small private conference room furnished sparsely with a small round glass table surrounded by four leather chairs and a shallow credenza under some modern piece of office art. But there were no windows, and I knew for a fact that this room was soundproof. I stood as straight and tall as I could and looked him directly in the eye.

“Close the door, Reynolds.” His tone was sharp and concise. No argument was expected or welcomed. I obeyed and waited for him to speak.

He didn’t say a word. He pointed to a chair and directed me to sit with a simple wave of his hand as he began a slow pace around the perimeter of the small round table. It was like being stalked by a tiger. There was an electric air of danger in this tiny space, and I had set it in motion. I clung to my anger. I wasn’t wrong. Was I?

Peter suddenly stopped. He stood at the other end of the table with his arms crossed over his broad chest. As usual, he was impeccably dressed in a gorgeous dark suit tailored to perfection. His dark, wavy hair seemed a little longer. I absently wondered if he was growing it out. But his dark, furrowed brow and intense stare told me to keep my ponderings to myself. He wasn’t in the mood to chat about hair. He looked pissed.

“Explain yourself.”

I blinked twice. I was almost afraid of him, but I knew that was irrational. I had a legitimate reason for my outburst. I just wished I had been a bit more professional about it.

“Fine. I will.” Professional, I cautioned myself. Don’t get personal. “You have given me rather baffling critiques, Mr. Morgan, that I frankly find ridiculous and almost contrived in a way that suggests you want to point out the negative whether or not it has any bearing whatsoever to the project at hand.”
Good, well said
, I thought.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He looked genuinely perplexed.

“You know what I’m talking about!” I exploded, jumping to my feet. “Correct paragraph two, sentence one… that’s one example! What was today’s going to be? Change the use of my pronoun from direct to indirect? Or is it an adjective that you want me to reconsider? Or….”

I had become so worked up that I didn’t register that he’d moved until he was three short feet away from me. He wore the strangest expression. It was a cross between tempered fury and frustration. He held up his hand in that authoritative way of his, demanding that I stop.
Stop everything. Don’t talk. Don’t move.
I waited like a deer in headlights to see what he’d do.

A fresh wave of adrenaline rushed through my veins as I found myself literally shoved up against the conference room wall with Peter’s large hand at my throat. I swallowed hard and looked into his dark, angry eyes, his face two short inches away from mine. His breath was warm against my cheek. He pulled back and shook his head as though puzzled by his own actions before he tightened his hold at my neck and covered my mouth with his own.

I could barely breathe. There was nowhere to hide, no retreat possible, so I gave in. My mouth melted underneath his, allowing the lip-lock to become a kiss. A fiery, passionate joining. Our tongues fought for dominance, licking and pushing. Peter’s hands trapped my head as he plunged even farther into my mouth, taking every last bit of control away from me. He ran his tongue over my lips before tracing a path along my jaw and biting my earlobes. I nudged him back with my nose and heard his low groan as he once again fused his mouth over mine.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his body close to mine. My hands kneaded his perfect ass through the fine fabric of his pants as I sent my hips forward to meet his. We gasped at the first feel of friction as our hardened cocks pressed together through our suits. It was electrifying and wickedly carnal. A mere glimpse into how intensely hot the real thing could be if we let ourselves go there. Peter stopped abruptly, straightening his arms on either side of my head. Our heavy breathing was the only sound in the room.

“I want you,” he growled, resting his forehead against mine.

What could I possibly say in response? My rock-hard dick was a sure giveaway that I felt the same. I waited for him to tell me how this could possibly happen. In my own head, I decided we had to get it out of our systems. The attraction was too intense to ignore. I realized I’d spoken out loud without realizing it when I heard Peter’s soft chuckle.

He stepped back, removing his hands from the wall above my head. He set them on my shoulders before making a slow, sure path down my chest. He stopped at my belt and looked me directly in the eye as he grabbed hold of my painfully erect cock through my trousers. He licked his lips, his eyes hooded as he stroked me up and down in a slow, languid motion. I whimpered with need, hating that I sounded so tortured.

“We can’t do this here.”

No shit Sherlock
. My eyes shot open. Peter’s were heavy with lust. He wasn’t teasing me. He looked as tormented as I felt. I bit my bottom lip and nodded, swatting his hand away from my fly before I did something stupid like unzip and beg him for release. To hell with our coworkers on the other side of the door. Peter backed up, putting a good few feet between us, his gaze never wavering.

“I’m traveling today. I leave for Dallas in a couple of hours.”

I nodded, not sure about what he expected me to say.

“I’ll be back tomorrow late.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call your cell.”

Again I nodded.

He looked like he had more to add but had decided to hold off. He turned toward the door when he seemed to recall why we were here in the first place.

“Pronouns? What the hell were you talking about?”

Switching gears was a bit of a struggle, but his reminder went a long way toward putting out the flame of desire. I gave him a fierce stare and folded my own arms across my chest.

“Okay… well, what is it you wanted to suggest about today’s presentation, if it wasn’t to make some inane correction?”

“Inane, eh?” He gave me a wolf-like half smile that was far more dangerous than it was friendly. “You need to change the order of sections three and four. Period. Talk about feasibility before you discuss finance. It’s better form, better flow, and will result in a win. If you need any further explanation I’d be happy to oblige.”

Peter gave me a wink as he opened the door.

“I’ll call you.”

I stared at the closed door for a few minutes before I finally peeled myself from the conference room wall and made my way back to my own office, wondering what the hell had just happened.

5

O
NCE
AGAIN
Peter Morgan was all I could think about. I replayed the scene in the private conference room in my head over and over. His intensity had been intimidating and it wasn’t simply his size or how damn good-looking he was either. It seemed like he was fighting to control himself and his hold was tenuous at best. I analyzed our exchanges and only came away feeling unsettled and confused. He had seemed truly puzzled that I took any offense to his critiques. That wasn’t what had sparked his temper. He didn’t mind it if his suggestions bothered me. He was sure he was correct. End of story. I had a theory that his agitation had more to do with this… thing between us. I obviously wasn’t the only one affected. It felt like a magnetic tie, an almost physical connection. Which made me wonder if physical release was all we really needed to move on to what we said we would be… coworkers only. Not friends and definitely not lovers, at least not in any lasting sense.