Page 30 of Under Construction

"My site." Chris works Dennis’s buttons open one by one, tugging the collar wide. His teeth find the soft spot under Dennis’s collarbone, and Dennis yips when he bites down.

Chris's laugh buzzes against his skin. He soothes his teeth marks with his tongue. "My princess."

"I'm not—" Dennis gasps as Chris's hand cups him through his pants. "I’m not yours," he forces out, chest rising and falling more rapidly now, forearms digging painfully into the edge of the counter.

"No?" Chris squeezes. "Then why are you so hard for me?"

"Fuck you!" Dennis’s voice catches in his throat. Everythingburns. This is so much worse than being caught staring at Chris's ass.

"Rather fuck you." Chris works Dennis’s belt open. "Rather wreck you. Make you beg for it."

He drops to his knees. The candlelight catches his face. Makes shadows dance across his features.

"Want to taste you." Chris looks up through his lashes. The edge of his mouth hikes up. "Do you want me to taste you princess?"

Dennis’s hands fist in Chris’s hair, clenching with a mix of desire and the simmering urge to wipe that smug look off Chris’s face—payback for every grin and jab and dick move Chris had thrown his way since they started working together.

But work. Professionalism. The project.

This could ruin everything, and things are already complicated enough…

Chris notices his hesitation. "This doesn't have to mean anything," he promises.

When Dennis still doesn't answer, Chris's hands massage up the back of his thighs, fingers digging into flesh until Dennis’s knees threaten to give.

"Just two guys," Chris's voice stays steady, like this is the most normal thing in the world, "with nothing better to do and no one better to do it with. It's not that hard and not a big deal."

Chris makes it sound so easy.

So casual.

So inconsequential.

Dennis licks his lip. Nods once. His thumb finds Chris's bottom lip, tracing it as he stares at how plush and inviting his mouth is.

Chris's eyes flutter shut as he draws the thumb into his mouth, sucking until his cheeks hollow around it, making Dennis’s head spin.

When his eyes open again, looking up at Dennis from his knees, all those responsible thoughts from before evaporate.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Dennis rasps, "because itdoesn'tmean anything."

It can't. It won't. Not a chance in hell.

Not with a man because being a disappointment to his father is one thing but this would be the final nail in his coffin, and absofuckinglutely not withChrisof all people.

Chris lets Dennis’s thumb slip from his mouth, suction catching the pad one last time, eyes locked on Dennis’s face like he's gauging every reaction.

"Gotcha, princess. Hear you loud and clear." He nuzzles against Dennis’s crotch, mouth so close Dennis can feel each exhale hot against his scrotum. His moan vibrates through the cloth of his underpants, and Dennis has to bite his lip to stay quiet.

"Please," Chris breathes against him, his lips hot and damp, the heat of his breath seeping through the fabric between them making Dennis’s skin pebble. "Please?" he tries again, softer, pressing closer, pushing harder, his voice no more than a whisper.

It’s the first time Dennis has ever heard Chris beg for anything.

Who’s wrecking who now?

He doesn’t hate it. He doesn’t hate it at all.

"Do it." Dennis’s voice comes out strong, certain, commanding the moment.

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