Full Disclosure (3 page)

He walked into his office early, way earlier that most anyone, whistling as he got ready for the day.

A sound at the door had him looking, finding Jarrod leaning against the jamb, watching him. The brown eyes were dark, warm. "Well, hello there, boss-man. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back."

Straightening, Jarrod walked in like he belonged, like it was his office.

"I didn't want anyone to forget what I looked like." His office. He was the boss. Not Jarrod. Just. Him. "You've been well?"

Jarrod shrugged. "Felt a bit like a boat without a rudder, boss gone and all." Jarrod came right on up to him, only stopping when they were about a foot apart. God, the man was intense. "Welcome back."

"Thank you. I assume there isn't any immediate business we need to deal with?" He didn't back up one bit.

"I have a bunch of papers that need your signature. But nothing"--Jarrod licked his lips, gave him one of those once-overs he remembered from before he'd gone--"pressing."

"Excellent." See him. See him be in control. He resisted the urge to smooth his dress shirt, smooth his hair.

"Did you miss me?"

"Excuse me?"

"I think you heard me, boss-man. I asked if you missed me." Jarrod chuckled. "You still need that spanking."

Samuel growled, cheeks heating uncontrollably. "You must really want to be fired."

"You're not going to fire me." Jarrod's voice was low now, husky.

"You are an arrogant little bastard." That was it. He was going to. Going to.

"Not so little, boss-man, I assure you." Jarrod moved closer, face suddenly right there in his, and then Jarrod's mouth descended on his.

The kiss was hard and sure, Jarrod's lips pressing his against his teeth.

Jesus Christ.

Samuel jerked, pulling away, cock hard and aching in his slacks. "What the fuck?"

Jarrod followed him, backing him up toward his desk. "That comes later."

"You're out of your mind." He could hear his heart pounding.

"No. But you're almost out of yours, aren't you?" Jarrod kept coming, kept backing him up until his legs hit his desk. "You've been thinking about it. Can't get it out of your head. Oh, you convinced yourself you did. Fooled yourself. So you came back."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He worked here. He belonged here.

"Yes. You do. And you've been a very naughty man. Running away from me. You need to be spanked, Samuel."

Jarrod took his arms and turned him, pressing up against his back, cock hard against his ass, mouth at his ear.

"I'll scream." Well, that sounded stupid and queer as hell.

Jarrod chuckled, but it didn't feel like he was being laughed at. "If you don't, I'm not doing it right." Jarrod licked a line from his collar up to his ear. One of Jarrod's hands dropped to his belt, started to undo it.

"This isn't happening." He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"Feels fucking real to me." His earlobe was nipped, the top button of his pants undone, his zipper tugged down. "You feel real, Samuel. You feel like you need. And I've got what you need."

"No." His cock pushed out, slapping against Jarrod's hand. "You don't know what the fuck I need."

Jarrod's hand wrapped around his prick, tugging on it once and once only. "I know exactly what you need."

He was bent over, his expensive trousers tugged down, exposing his ass, the air shocking against his balls.

"What the fuck are you doing?" They were at the office. In his office.

Work.

This wasn't happening.

"Giving you what you need, Samuel." Jarrod's hand came down on his ass, slapping his skin. He could feel the outline of each finger on his ass cheek.

"Don't." Oh, fuck. It was like a fucking fantasy, like his fucking fantasy.

"Don't what, Samuel? Do this?" That hand came down again, hitting his ass square on. Then again.

"Yes." He pulled away, reaching back toward Jarrod's hands.

"You're telling me you don't want this?" One of Jarrod's hands grabbed his, the other one landed on his ass again. Then Jarrod was bent over him, hot against his back. "Tell me to stop, Sammy. Say 'Jarrod stop. Jarrod leave.' And I will."

"I..." Another blow made him gasp, made him jerk. So fucking hot.

"That's what I thought," Jarrod's voice grated. The next blow came just as hard, just as loud in the quiet of his office. His fucking office!

Two more blows followed in short succession; his ass began to feel like it was on fire. This rough, raw sound escaped him, hips rolling back. Whether it was toward the blows or away, he didn't know.

"Oh, fuck, Sammy, yeah." The blows kept coming, one after another, making him gasp and jerk, making everything else just disappear.

His head dropped forward, eyes closing as his thighs spread, bracing himself for more.

"So fucking hard for you, Sammy. Fuck."

They found a rhythm together, like fucking, his hips pushing back into each blow, the sound ringing through the office.

When they stopped it was like a shock. The heat of Jarrod's cock rubbing against him, the tip leaving a wet trail over his burning flesh, was an even bigger shock.

"Tell me you want it."

His ass was on fire, thighs shaking furiously. Oh, God. Oh, God. "I..."

Jarrod's cock slapped against his ass, and then he heard the crinkling sound of a condom wrapper.

Samuel thought he was going to stand up, pull away, but he wanted it. Wanted a good hard fuck. Wanted to feel Jarrod against his burning ass.

The head of Jarrod's prick slid along his crack, pushed against his hole, but didn't breach him, not before Jarrod's hand slid around and took his cock in a hard grip. Then Jarrod pushed forward.

"Uhh..." He jerked, went up on his toes and just begged for it. Thick and long, Jarrod's cock pushed up into him and made him feel every inch.

"Hot. Shit. Fucking tight. Oh, Samuel." Jarrod's voice groaned, the words ending in an almost whimper.

In and in Jarrod pushed, until the wiry hairs around the base of his cock rubbed up against Samuel's burning ass. The whole world tightened to his ass, his cock, the fire between them. His need.

Jarrod made a growling noise and started to move, taking him hard. Each thrust slammed Jarrod's cock deep, and had those hips pushing against his ass. His thighs slammed against his desk, the skin aching, bruising, and fuck it felt good. Jarrod's hand worked his cock hard, jacking him as he was fucked.

The slap of flesh, their bodies hitting the desk, their gasping breaths, the sounds mingled with the sharp, musky scent of sex, the air redolent with them. Samuel started shaking, so close to coming he could taste it.

"Wait for it," groaned Jarrod. "Wait 'til I say so."

Harder, faster, the hand around his cock increased its pace as well, Jarrod pushed him hard, but made him wait. His entire body clenched, body jerking, balls drawing up tight.

"Just another..." Jarrod groaned, swore. "Fuck. Now. Now, Sammy!" The long cock slammed into his gland, and Jarrod's shout filled the room.

His cock jerked, spunk spraying over his desk, ass squeezing that heavy cock tight.

Jarrod leaned against his back, panting sharply in his ear. The hand around his prick slowly loosened and slipped away, reaching up to grasp his chin and turn his face. Jarrod's lips slid against his own, tongue dipping inside.

He didn't know what to think, how to think. If he could think.

The scent of his own come was on Jarrod's fingers, filling his nose as Jarrod's tongue lazily fucked his lips. The thick prick slid out of him. Jarrod let his chin go in favor of tugging his trousers back up, the zipper, button and belt, carefully done back up.

He kept his teeth together, refusing to make a sound, not sure what the fuck he was going to do next.

Once he was all put back together again, Jarrod held him for a moment, the rangy body warm and solid behind him. "No one ever needs to know." The words whispered against his skin. Then the heat against him disappeared. The noise of the door sounded a moment later, opening and then closing softly.

Samuel stood still for a long moment, then he moved across the office and threw the lock. He didn't want to be disturbed until he could... Could...

Do something.

* * * *

Jarrod made a beeline for the bathroom at the end of the hall and locked the door behind him.

Jesus.

Fuck.

That had been...fucking intense.

Fucking perfect.

But unexpected.

Oh, he knew it was coming, knew Samuel wanted it, knew he wanted it, too, but he hadn't expected it this morning. Hell, he hadn't expected to see Samuel back this morning and when he had, he couldn't wait to give them both what they needed.

The question was, what happened next?

Samuel could fire him, though he didn't think the man would. Samuel had wanted it as much as Jarrod himself had. Maybe more.

He could pretend it hadn't happened.

He could just play it by ear.

That sounded like the best path to follow. After all, for all he knew Samuel was going to jail. He'd had a message from HQ just that morning that there was an email trail that ended at Samuel Cavanaugh's desk. Which really didn't make sense. The man wouldn't be that stupid.

Someone was trying to make him look guilty. Which meant he likely wasn't. At least not when it came to selling company secrets. Which relieved Jarrod more than he was willing to exam just now.

He splashed water on his face and washed his hands, unlocked the door and headed back to his desk. Samuel's door was still closed, and as he sat there, pretending to work, Jarrod debated waiting to be called or pushing his way in.

The day passed and Cavanaugh never came out, never emailed, never made a peep. Lunch. Afternoon. All the way through to quitting time. If it hadn't been for the fact that he could see Samuel's line light up on his phone, he'd think the man had snuck out.

He didn't hear anything else from HQ, either, though he'd composed an email letting them know that Cavanaugh was much smarter than to let an email trail lead back to him. He'd also spent some time trying to get into Cavanaugh's credit report, but to no avail.

Five o'clock came and went and Jarrod waited until the place had pretty much emptied out to go to the door and knock sharply. Trying the knob confirmed that Samuel had indeed locked it.

Samuel opened the door a crack, in shirtsleeves. "It's past five. Go home." Then the door shut again.

Oh, he'd shaken Samuel up pretty badly. God, he wanted to do it all over again. That red ass had been fucking gorgeous. He could just imagine it with a plug in it, too, Samuel begging to be allowed to suck his cock...

Jarrod went over to his desk, quickly printed off a letter, and knocked again.

The door opened faster this time, Samuel glaring. "What?"

"I have a letter that needs your signature." He smiled and casually put a foot where it would stop the door from closing if Samuel tried to shut it again. "And I was wondering if you wanted to go over the notes for tomorrow's meeting?"

His eyes ate Samuel up, loving the way the dark curls stood on the top of Samuel's head.

"What letter and, no, I think I have it under control." Samuel held one hand out for the letter.

Jarrod glanced past Samuel, raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to let me in?"

Samuel actually shook his head, but stepped back, heading right for his desk and grabbing a pen. "What letter?"

He followed Samuel, wondering if Samuel had sat at all today, or if his ass was too tender. Just the thought made his prick jump and he had to clear his throat to keep the huskiness from it. "The letter to the board updating them on the project."

"Fine. Things are going swimmingly." Samuel read over the letter quickly, nodded once and signed it.

Jarrod sat in the chair across the desk from Samuel's, looking up into the man's face. "Are you all caught up or are you going to have to burn the midnight oil?"

"I'll probably stay a while, get some stuff done." Samuel looked like he just didn't know what to do, what to think.

He leaned forward. "Then I'll stick around, boss-man. In case you need me." In case Samuel needed another go-round.

"That's not necessary." He could see those nipples, just visible and tight under the fine cloth.

He licked his lips. "I know it isn't necessary, but I'm a full-service executive assistant." Very full-service. As Samuel had found out just that morning, after all.

"You..." Samuel lifted his chin, lips tight. "I'm sure you have plans. I will manage."

"No, no plans." God, he wanted to just stand up and slide his tongue along those lips. He stood and stepped toward Cavanaugh, intent on doing exactly that.

Samuel scrambled back, putting the chair between them. "You're done for the day."

He leaned casually against the desk. "Why don't we both clock off? Who knows what'll come up?"

"You... You are something else. Honestly."

"I just know what I want. And I know what you want, Sammy." He slid the table out of the way and stepped back into Samuel's space, bringing their lips together before the man could react.

Samuel groaned, hands hard where they gripped his upper arms.

Oh yeah, Sammy, hold on tight.

He slid one hand around Samuel's waist, tugging the well-toned body close, so their middles rubbed together. His other hand slid over the short hair at the back of Samuel's head, cupping and tilting so he could deepen the kiss.

Samuel's tongue pushed against his, fighting him for control. He let it into his mouth, lips wrapping around it and his teeth nipping at the tip of it before he started sucking vigorously. He could feel the heat of Samuel's prick, pushing eagerly at his trousers.
Oh, fuck, so good.
Those hands squeezed harder, Samuel's heart pounding against his chest. Samuel tasted sweet, like jelly beans, but with a tart flavor that must be the man himself.

He slid his hand around to Samuel's front, fingers finding the hard little nipples through Samuel's shirt. He played and plucked them, each gentle touch followed by a pinch, a tug. He could feel Samuel try to pull away, then push forward again, just begging for it.