Page 11 of Just Business
Justin licked his lips. “Going to come out here every day to let me in?”
“Only today.” He handed over a keycard. “Please don’t lose that. They’re a pain to replace.”
Justin looked at the card for a moment before sliding it into his back pocket. “Wouldn’t want to cause you any extra work.” A lilt to that, and a sly grin.
Oh, Justin was going to be quite the handful. “Given that job is now yours, you’d only be causing yourself pain.”
“Self-flagellation isn’t my thing.”
Eli turned toward the inner door. “Oh?”
“It’s no fun whippingyourself.”
Eli stumbled at the thought that chased after those words—Justin’s naked back stretched out and open, the weight of a flogger in Eli’s hand, the smell of the leather and flesh—and caught himself against the doorframe.
“Shit, are you okay?” Justin gripped his arm at the elbow and helped Eli upright, sending lightning into Eli’s veins.
He’d never been so grateful for his injury. “Yes. Sometimes it gives out when I least expect it.” True, though certainly not in this case.
Justin let him go.
In the faint reflection of the glass door, questions chased across Justin’s features, but he was good enough not to ask. Eli pulled the door open and answered anyway. “I was in a car accident when I was fifteen. My leg was crushed.”
Yes, Justin certainly had a very lovely blush. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—” He stood rooted to the floor.
That wouldn’t do. Nor would grabbing that tiny cord and leading him down the hall. Eli gripped Justin’s shoulder, savoring the tremor that ran through Justin, and squeezed. “It’s the question everyone asks. I’m not offended.” He gave Justin a little push. “Come on.”
This time, Justin moved and Eli followed. And there was the tempting expanse of Justin’s back, in a tight t-shirt. “We’ll start at your new desk.”
As Eli expected, Justin remembered the office layout, and strode forward toward the office he’d be sharing with Sam. When they reached the room, it was as it had been—empty. “I didn’t know what supplies you’d need. I’ll show you where we keep them.”
“Thanks.” He dropped the bag and helmet on the desk, and peeked into the adjoining office. “No Sam?”
“He’s dropping his partner, Michael, off at the airport.”
“Mr. Margarita on the desk?”
He didn’t even bother to hold back the laugh. “Yes, that’s Michael in the photo.”
“He looks...” Justin shrugged. “Not the kind of guy I’d expected Sam Anderson to date.”
“Whatdidyou expect?”
A flush crept up his neck. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his too-black hair. “Someone more like him? A business guy? Not...” He gestured at the office. “Jimmy Buffett.”
If Justin only knew. Eli stepped in, closer than he should, but the officewassmall. “There you go with your assumptions,” he murmured close to Justin’s ear.
Eli longed to put a finger under Justin’s slack jaw and push his mouth closed. An unexpected warmth grew in Eli’s chest.
Propriety, Eli. He stepped away. “Michael Sebastian is the vice president of research and development at Sundra Networks.”
“Oh.” Justin cleared his throat. “So no Sam?”
“It’s just the two of us at the moment.”
“No one else? I mean, engineering?”
“They’ll be wandering in soon, I’m sure.”
