Not Safe for Work

By: L. A. Witt

Besides, I’d also specifically filtered my profile for male submissive. I hadn’t even listed myself as bisexual because lately I’d been in the mood for someone very subby and very male.

So, not Marie.

I gulped and continued scanning the group.

My gaze landed right on Rick Pierce. The CEO of Horizon Developing. The wealthiest and most ambitious client who’d set foot in this firm in decades. The man who I was sure was the sole reason the suit had been invented.

And he was looking right back at me.

With his phone in his hand.

I raised my eyebrow. He quickly dropped his gaze.

Oh. Busted.

The entire Internet could not have contained the sheer volume of images that suddenly flooded my mind. Rick’s brown hair—which was perfectly windswept right now—all messed up and dripping with sweat. A welt on his wrist that that shiny Rolex couldn’t quite cover. This powerful CEO who was always the very picture of boldness and elegance, kneeling naked at my feet, eyes wide and glazed, hands bound and shaking…

And suddenly my binder was hiding more than just my phone.

Chin down, Rick stole a glance at me from the corner of his eye. I chanced a subtle grin, one I was sure no one would notice but him, and I was rewarded with a little hitch in his breath just before he shifted his attention back to Mr. Mitchell.

Holy shit.

If we’d connected on the app, then there were things I knew without a doubt about Rick Pierce. He was either gay or bisexual. He wasn’t in a relationship. He was submissive. He liked to be bound. He liked to be watched.

I shifted in my chair, hoping like hell this meeting didn’t end until I got this hard-on under control. That wasn’t an easy task. Not when I knew Rick was the type who absolutely combined kink and sex, as opposed to the guys who liked one or the other.

There were a few things up in the air, though. He was submissive, but did he prefer top or bottom when he fucked? God, if he likes both…

I shivered.

“Jon?” Marie startled me, and my head snapped toward her.


She inclined her head slightly, eyeing me over her glasses. “Did you have anything to add?”

Add to what?

I cleared my throat and sat up, and as I lay my notebook on the table, my phone clattered to the floor, and I suddenly had a vision of it landing faceup with the incriminating app wide open for all to see. “Um.” I coughed again. “No. No, I…” Have nothing to add because I have no idea what we’re talking about.

Marie’s lips quirked and her eyebrow rose, and I knew I’d be hearing about this later. She sighed. “What’s your ETA on the models for this project?”

It’d be a hell of a lot sooner if you didn’t keep dragging me into these meetings.

“I’ll need to check with my crew about—”

“Can it be finished by Monday morning?” Marie broke in.

Yep. There goes my weekend.

“If Teagan and I work through the weekend, yes.”

Marie was about to speak, but Rick broke in.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” He folded his long fingers on top of his phone. “As long as I have something for the board of directors by close of business Wednesday, that would be fine.”

His eyes darted toward me, and the faintest upward flick of his eyebrow added You’re welcome.

Marie pushed out a sharp, impatient breath. “Okay. Wednesday morning, then?”

Tuesday morning or you’re dead meat, her arched eyebrow added.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Totally doable.”

And like clockwork, Marie busting my balls in front of clients and colleagues took care of that troublesome hard-on.

Minutes later, the meeting had wrapped up. Marie and Mitchell were busy shaking hands with the clients—kissing their asses, more like—so I picked my phone up off the floor and made the quickest escape I could. I stopped for a brief conversation with Horizon Developing’s facilities director, who was really the only one I had any reason to talk to about this project, and then slipped out of the conference room.

I suddenly couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse that Rick and Dion were here so often. Their near-constant presence was unusual, but then again, so was a client with that many projects going at the same time. So they were here all the time. They’d be here all the time even after today. Even after Rick Pierce and I had connected where we had no business connecting.

These meetings—which happened at least two or three times a week—were either going to get really interesting or really awkward.

At the elevator, I pressed the down button and waited.

Footsteps. Sharp, fast—definitely dress shoes, but not high heels like Marie wore.

Top Books