Public Enemy, Undercover Lover Page 17
Ford hesitated, but eventually pulled back, watching Andrew push everything into the center of the table. Andrew handed him the mug and took the thermos for himself, shifting until he sat centered, facing Ford’s chair. He spread his legs, coaxing Ford to stand, and pulled him in close between them. They shared their first drink of the hot, creamy beverage.
“Now this is cocoa.” Ford hummed approval. “You spoil me.”
“And you owe me. I expect to discover all the other baked goods you can make as delicious as those brownies.”
Ford chuckled. “Who’s swindling who here?”
“The way I remember it, depends on our mood.” Andrew took another slow sip without breaking eye contact.
“So…” Ford made a point of squaring his stance to spread his legs too. He held the mug in one hand and ran the other up Andrew’s thigh. “About that trick you mentioned?”
“Do I need to warm you up first?”
“I think I’m warmed. See for yourself.”
Andrew pulsed hot from the cocoa and Ford’s confidence and reached forward to find him hard in his dress pants. He squeezed, watching a twitch in Ford’s jaw. “I might need more evidence than this. You sure you’re warmed enough to get as hot as I’m planning?”
Setting the thermos aside, Andrew then took the mug from Ford too and knocked him back into his chair, climbing into his lap and straddling him. He rocked his hips forward until he felt Ford’s hardness brush against his.
Hands warm from holding the cocoa, he coiled them around the back of Ford’s head, pressed down into him harder, and latched onto Ford’s mouth. They kissed hungrily, deep and heated without any preamble of softness or being tentative. There was no need. They knew what they wanted, had been with each other so many different ways now that they slotted together and drew out the exact sensations each of them desired with barely any effort.
Cloying deeper for Ford’s tongue, Andrew held onto his neck and bucked forward demandingly. Ford moaned into his mouth, so Andrew bucked forward again, feeling constricted with how hard Ford was as he pushed up into him.
“Got a bit…of a time limit.” Ford shuddered beneath Andrew, mouthing feverishly along his jawline.
“We can be fast. Still want that heated blowjob?”
“Definitely, but we have less than an hour. Meeting at ten. You understand.”
Andrew paused in his careful tonguing of Ford’s ear. “You mean eleven?”
“Nice try. Ten.”
But Andrew wasn’t being cute. He stilled and pulled back to look Ford in the face. “It’s ten now.”
“No, it’s…” Ford looked at his watch, which read 9:05—but the second hand wasn’t moving.
The sound of voices filtered down the hallway and in through the open door. If it had only been Ford’s associates, it wouldn’t matter, but Andrew didn’t know everyone he could hear, and if it was clients…
Ford pushed him from his lap and shoved him underneath the table. The shape and size would easily hide him from anyone coming in or sitting around it, but this felt insane.
“Ford!” he tried hissing, but the Santa mug was pushed into his hands—a little more difficult to explain than a thermos—just as the clamor of people reached them.
“Ms. Larson, Greg, Sheila,” Ford greeted. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up, but I have a bit of a twinge in my back from a job last night.”
Andrew held back a snort. That wasn’t the real reason he couldn’t stand right now.
But wait—Larson Manufacturing?!
Old indignation flared as Andrew remembered how angry he’d been when Ford first stole this client.
The chairs around the table pulled out to accept their occupants, all of Ford’s team on one side, given the murmur of voices, and Larson’s on the other. Thank God the table was oversized. As long as Andrew stayed close to Ford, no one should notice him even if they stretched out their legs.
“Is that something that happens often, Mr. Ford?” Larson asked.
“Back trouble? Not at all. But then, usually, I’m not helping the police chase down a suspect. I’m afraid I can’t discuss details, but I got to play at a citizen’s arrest last night. Detective Wen from the local precinct has always been a fan and believes in the idea of second chances.”
That was half true, but now he was using last night to look better in front of Larson? The new theft hadn’t been made public yet, Vallancourt appeased by the promise that they had things under control and would deliver the thief by the end of the week. But Andrew still felt cheated and…used, being undermined in front of a client he’d lost.
Which was when he remembered the cocoa in his hands.
Grinning to himself, Andrew carefully set the mug beneath the chair for now and reached forward to undo Ford’s pants.
Ford flinched but couldn’t call attention or risk giving away that Andrew was there. This was how Andrew finally got back at him for the precinct, even more fitting when the same client was involved.
Ford tried swatting him away but could only do so ineffectually, and Andrew finished undoing his pants and pulled him out to the open air. He was a little softened, given the cold shower, but Andrew knew he could warm him up quickly.
“Riley, spread out the schematics for our clients,” Ford said, since he couldn’t stand now. He tried closing his legs when Andrew cupped his balls and slid his thumb up the base, but the light, insistent touch had him soon opening his thighs wider.
Andrew circled his thumb around Ford’s slit, spreading the budding moisture there, and dragged his thumb down until he fondled Ford’s balls again. He shifted closer, settled between Ford’s legs, and licked a smooth stripe up his cock from base to tip.
No reaction that Andrew could tell. Not even a waver in Ford’s voice. Not that Andrew was paying too much attention to his words. For now, he focused on Ford’s hard dick in his hand, quivering beneath the attentions of his tongue.
Andrew pulled back, brought the mug up, took a long swallow of cocoa, and then quickly leaned forward and sucked Ford in at the tip.
“Noted by the—ah!” Ford cut off with a gasp, turning the unexpected exclamation of pleasure into a cough. He cleared his throat before continuing, as if something had gone down the wrong pipe, and spoke on without drawing much attention. “Noted by the colors positioned on the blueprints.”
Ford was a pro, but Andrew was only getting started.
He licked around Ford’s head, sucking hard, but not taking Ford in too deep just yet. His right hand kept a constant motion around Ford’s balls and base, squeezing gently, rolling the tender skin in his palm, as he licked Ford’s head once, twice, but felt the heat quickly leaving his mouth.
He took another drink.
This time he sucked one of Isaac’s balls into his mouth and had to be careful not to release it with a telling pop. Then he did the same with the other.
Ford merely slowed his speech so he could take a longer breath between sentences, no otherwise telling signs to give himself away. He was ready for Andrew now and whatever he might do. Or so he thought.
Andrew took another drink, sucked a finger into his mouth, and held it there for a count of twenty. Then he slid it beneath Ford’s balls and teased gently at his mostly impossible to reach entrance, but oh, he knew a graze would be more than enough.
Ford had the thermos in hand, Andrew could just barely see above him, occasionally stealing sips of his own, but his left hand settled under the table on his thigh and tightened into a fist—opening, curling his fingers in a flourish of motion, then tightening again. Ford could have conducted an orchestra with how his hands spoke for him, repeating those same motions again and again to keep focused while he continued explaining his plans for Larson.
Andrew took another drink, only a few long draws left, and waited for the next time Ford fanned out his fingers. The moment it happened, he grasped the hand and sucked Ford’s pointer finger into his mouth, coiling his tongue around it. He sucked it in dee
p, letting saliva build and coat it until some of the moisture dribbled from the corners of his lips.
Still, Ford’s voice remained steady, no more slip ups, even as he tried in vain to pull his hand from Andrew’s grasp, and his breathing distinctly picked up pace.
“We can go over everything again in finer detail after you’ve looked through the itemized invoice,” Ford said, clearly trying to wrap this up quickly.
A murmur of agreements flitted around the table. A few questions arose that Ford tried to answer succinctly. He’d dismiss the meeting soon; Andrew could sense it.
He released Ford’s hand and took one last long drink of cocoa, gripped Ford’s thighs, and in one deft swoop, deep throated him with his nose pressed to the coiled hair beneath Ford’s bellybutton, face trapped between his gorgeous thighs.
Finally, another gasp. Another cough to hide it.
Andrew sucked harder.
“There’s only one other thing,” Ford rushed on, “not in the current breakdown. Bluetooth trackers for your more sensitive equipment.”
Andrew froze. How dare he—
“It’s a rather ingenious idea my contemporary came up with, Andrew Wen, and I think you should contract that portion of the upgrade through him.”
What?
Stunned, Andrew pulled off, looking up at Ford’s face, completely serious and impassive.
“Your competitor?” Larson questioned. “We rejected his proposal for yours.”
“I realize that, but in this case, I think our combined efforts would benefit you. We each have our strengths, and as you may have read in the paper recently, we’ve been collaborating for Avalon. I think a joint contract is your best bet.”
None of Ford’s associates raised any protest, but Andrew had to imagine they were all as stunned as he was.
“We’ll have to think about it,” Larson said. “You’ll get us a new proposal with that included and Wen’s pricing?”
“By the end of the day.”
The chairs all scraped the floor being pushed back. There was a flurry of movement, Larson coming over to shake Ford’s hand, as he remained in his chair, and then her people left with Luke leading them out, Andrew guessed, since only Riley and Kathleen’s voices spoke up.
“I thought the trackers were bogus,” Kathleen said.
“Or is fucking the enemy messing with your head,” Riley challenged.
“The trackers aren’t bogus. They just didn’t work for Avalon. For Larson, they’ll be fine. And who I fuck isn’t your concern or going to affect my judgment in business matters. This is the right call.”
“Whatever, boss,” Riley said. “I still think you’re soft on Wen.”
Hard, more like, throbbing, since he was close but hadn’t yet finished.
Andrew heard someone exit the room, but Ford didn’t move.
Kathleen was still there.
“Yes?” Ford asked.
“Just a thought,” she said, her voice coming from near the door. “If I were to peek under this table right now, how scarred for life would I be?”
Shit.
“Less if you gave me time to tuck myself away.”
“Ew!” she groaned between disgust and laughter. “Really? I knew that sore back excuse was a lie, and I thought I saw you squirming. Well then, Andrew, since I know that’s you under there, one piece of advice? If this was nothing more than screwing around, there’s no way Arty would have let you get away with what you just pulled during a meeting. So, don’t you hurt him,” she said, suddenly serious. “It’d be very bad for your health. Bye now!”
He heard the door click as she left. Only then did Ford push back his chair to let him out. Andrew crawled free, Santa mug in hand, wondering if Ford was upset that he’d gone through with that, or maybe upset that Kathleen had found them. But he’d still gone out on a limb for Andrew, when Andrew had been acting like a shit trying to make him react.
And Kathleen thought this was more than sex too.
After setting the mug on the table, Andrew dropped to his knees in front of Ford, latched back onto his dick with fervor, and sucked him to full hardness again in seconds. Ford gasped, hand reaching to tangle in Andrew’s hair, pleading without having to hold back that he not stop, not for a second, not until he—
—came, thigh muscles clenching, fingers tugging tighter in Andrew’s hair, hard enough that he nearly moaned around Ford’s cock as he continued to suck him dry, until he was sure Ford was done. He slid off slowly, still licking at Ford’s dick and enjoying the sweet aftertaste of cocoa on his tongue.
“That wasn’t the only reason I suggested your trackers to Larson,” Ford huffed.
“I know.”
“Know how else you can make this up to me?”
“Thought I just did.” Andrew licked his lips.
Ford leapt from his chair, hefting Andrew onto the table in one smooth, powerful motion, and pushed him back until Andrew toppled over, nearly sending both the mug and thermos to the floor. Ford unbuttoned Andrew’s jeans, tore at his zipper, and tugged them half down his ass before grunting, “I’m going to warm you up like you warmed me, and then I want you to fuck me right here on this table and put me in my place.”
Andrew shuddered, relaxing back against the table as Ford pulled his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, and then reclaimed the thermos to take a long gulp.
It wasn’t just sex—but oh, the sex was amazing.
Ford sucked and sucked on his cock, going back for extra sips of the hot liquid each time, until Andrew was shaking. And then he pulled away.
“You want more, you’re going to have to demand it.” Ford smirked as he stood up straight to await his orders.
“Come here,” Andrew said, clawing Ford closer the moment he moved back toward him, possessive as he glided his hands up the back of Ford’s shirt and kissed him ravenously, before moving along his jaw to his throat. “Help me up,” he said between nips, “and then bend over the table.”
Ford did so, and he had such a perfect ass, even with his pants still up, presented for Andrew with his legs spread, while Andrew teetered with his length swollen and heavy between his thighs. He didn’t bother removing either of their clothes completely, just shoved his pants down to not lock his knees in place, and yanked Ford’s down to his ankles. He knew what Ford expected him to do, and he’d get there.
Stepping in close, Andrew let the head of his cock tease between Ford’s cheeks, putting one hand on the back of his neck and pressing him hard to the table. Ford’s hips jerked under the harsh treatment, and Andrew reached around with his other hand to feel just how much he liked this.
“You’re already hard again,” Andrew said with pride, canting his hips forward and running his thumb down Ford’s length while the hand at his neck squeezed harder. “You like when I’m in charge.”
Ford panted, hips stuttering like he wanted to rut against the table. “As much as you like it when I am.”
“Does that mean you like…this?” He pulled the hand from Ford’s cock and smacked his right butt cheek.
Ford gasped, rocking more consistently.
“I was sore sitting down that whole next day.” Andrew smacked him again, hard as he could. “I liked that too. Liked that I could let everything go, and then take everything the next time.”
“Then take,” Ford whined, spreading his legs wider and rubbing back against Andrew’s cock between his cheeks.
“I’m still mad about the Larson contract.”
“We’re sharing!”
“It’s the principle.”
“Andrew…” Ford pleaded. “Punish me then. Punish me harder. Please.”
That same familiar thrill shot through Andrew, reveling in the permission to press down hard, squeeze harder, and rear back for another sharp smack to Ford’s ass. “You act so tough,” his voice came out a low, dangerous growl, “but only a few minutes with me like this and you’re already begging.”
“Please…” Ford said again, a
s if to say yes, he’d beg as much as Andrew wanted.
“You’re going to have to offer a lot more than ‘please’ to get me to give you what you want.”
All at once, Andrew pulled away, and bodily flipped Ford around, lifted him up the table, and spread his legs to rock him back. Ford was pulsing harder between his legs than the first time, face a flushed mess and pupils dilated, and bringing a startling reality to Andrew.
“We don’t have…” Anything—no condom, no lube, nothing hidden in either of their pockets. Andrew had only planned on a blowjob and roaming hands.
“I don’t need it if you don’t,” Ford said, and for all the heat and want in his eyes, there was trust there too, and more than either of them had admitted out loud. “No surprises, Andrew. It’s only been you since well before Christmas.”
Andrew was clean too and hadn’t been with anyone but Ford since Olivia, but there had been very few people he’d felt comfortable enough with to forego all precaution.
Yet he didn’t hesitate, not with Ford, bringing up his fingers for Ford to suck them into his mouth and coat them as liberally as he could. As soon as Andrew probed in to start stretching, Ford let out a wrecked moan.
“You like that too, don’t you?” Andrew said, one finger and then two twisting up inside him, opening him easily, right there in his conference room.
“Please,” Ford begged again, neck arching as his head pressed back into the table.
“Did you get all hot and bothered having me suck you off in a crowded room?”
“Ngn…I love it when you show your dirty side.”
“You’re the one about to get fucked with your coworkers down the hall.”
“And you’re the one dripping precum all over my carpet.”
Andrew took the taunt, true as it may be when he looked down, and seized Ford’s throat with his free hand, squeezing just shy of too hard until Ford gasped for breath, eyes hooded, nodding in encouragement. “Tell me you love it when I make you beg.”