Page 32 of The Boss

I didn’t have to ask what that meant. A year ago, I would’ve grinned, leaned in, whispered something filthy in her ear just to watch her blush. But now, my first thought was:She only ever does this on special occasions.

She liked sex well enough, but blowjobs? That was different. It was never something she craved, never something she initiated. Usually, I had to talk her into it, ease her into it. She wasn’t bad at it—she knew what she was doing—but it always felt like something she wasgiving merather than something shewantedfor herself. And now, unbidden, another image slid into my mind—Chris, dropping to his knees without hesitation, his mouth eager,hungry,like he got off on it just as much as I did.

I pushed the thought away. Smiling at Chantelle, I lifted my glass. “To another year.”

She clinked her cocktail against my scotch. “To you, birthday boy.”

The rest of the night played out like a script—drinks, dinner, laughter in all the right places. When we got to my apartment, Chantelle wasted no time. She led me to the bedroom, kissing me as she unbuttoned my shirt. “Lie back,” she murmured, pushing me onto the bed.

I did as I was told, trying to summon the excitement Ishouldbe feeling.

She climbed between my legs, her hands sliding over my stomach before reaching my belt. She unbuckled it, her movements slow and deliberate. Without a word, she pulled me out, stroking me a few times before taking me into her mouth. I groaned at the contact. She was good at this. I knew she was good at this.

But it wasn’t the same. Her touch was too cautious, too hesitant. She took me in at her own pace, controlled the rhythm, never let me get too deep. I let my head fall back, trying to lose myself in the sensation, trying to focus on the warmth, the wetness. Yet I couldn’t help thinking how much better it had felt when Chris did it.

Chris, who sucked me like heneededit. Chris, who groaned around my cock, who looked up at me with those mischievous eyes, winking, like he took pleasure in just seeing me fall apart. Chris, who had sucked me off under my desk while I was trying to hold a conversation.

My abs tensed. I clenched my fists against the sheets.

Fuck.

Chantelle pulled off, mistaking my reaction for pleasure. Smiling up at me, she continued to jerk me off at a safe distance, expecting me to shoot at any moment. She never swallowed, never even let me finish in her mouth, because cum grossed her out. “You like that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Feels good.” It wasn’t a lie. Her handdidfeel good. It just wasn’tenough.And maybe that was the most dangerous realization of all. Because for the first time, I wasn’t simply cravingmore.

I was cravinghim.

* * *

Chris was sulking.

At first, I didn’t notice. The morning started like any other—meetings, emails, a quick blowjob in my office, a stack of reports to go over. I was running on too little sleep and too much coffee, my mind a mess of tangled thoughts I didn’t have the time or energy to sort through. But then, little by little, it started to register.

The way Chris scarcely looked at me when he handed over my schedule. The short, clipped answers to my questions. The missing smirk when I teased him about wearing that ridiculous green tie again. The distracted, perfunctory way he blew me.

It followed me throughout the day like a shadow. Whenever we crossed paths, I caught the slight stiffness in his posture, the way he kept his tone polite but distant, the way his usual easy, teasing energy was just… gone.

By mid-morning, it was undeniable. Chris was sulking.At me.

I caught him near the break room, cornering him by the copier. “All right,” I said, folding my arms. “What’s going on with you today?”

Chris barely glanced my way, shrugging as he grabbed a stack of printed documents. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been weird all day. What’s wrong?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I’m surprised you noticed. I thought the world revolves around you and your needs.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You didn’t even mention it was your birthday yesterday.” His eyes flicked up, and there was something raw in them—hurt, frustration, something deeper than just petty annoyance. “I had to find out from yourfiancée,” he added, voice quieter now.

A flare of guilt stirred in my gut, but I shoved it down, crossing my arms tighter. “And?”

“And? Jesus, Zac.” He shook his head. “Do I really matter that little to you?”

That hit somewhere it shouldn’t have. I felt my patience snap, heat surging in my chest, and before I could stop myself, the words came out too sharp, too harsh. “What exactly do you think we are that I’m obliged to tell you about my private life? Do you think because—” I looked around to make sure no one could overhear, lowering my voice— “do you think because you suck my cock you have some claim over me? That this is arelationship?”

Chris’s expression didn’t change—no flinch, no anger, just a quiet disappointment that was somehow worse. So much worse. “I thought we were friends,” he said, voice flat. Then he turned and walked away.

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