Just a Bit Bossy by Alessandra Hazard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

 

Sharing a bed with his boss was somehow the single weirdest thing he’d ever done, and that said a lot.

Nate stared at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling and breathed evenly, trying to will himself to fall asleep.

It didn’t work.

He was acutely aware of the man beside him, of his steady breaths and the heat he exuded. It was a good thing the room wasn’t hot, a fresh cool breeze coming through the open window.

“You’re hot,” Nate complained.

Ferrara made a strangled sort of sound, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Thanks,” he said, his voice extremely dry.

Nate flushed, realizing how that had sounded. “Shut up. You’re literally very warm.”

“I run hot. I’m not used to sleeping in clothes.”

Now that was something Nate really hadn’t needed to know. “And you’re wearing clothes for my sake? I didn’t know you even understood the concept of doing something for someone else’s sake.”

“You’re right.” The other man sat up and pulled his t-shirt off. “I shouldn’t have bothered. It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked.”

Whoa.

“I haven’t seen you naked,” Nate said quickly, looking away, even though he couldn’t see much in the dark. “I’ve seen parts of you. Naked. But not all of you!”

“You had my cock in your mouth,” Ferrara said. “Seeing my ankles shouldn’t make you faint.”

Nate squeezed his eyes shut. He could still hear Ferrara lie back in the bed with a satisfied sigh.

“Stop reminding me of it.”

“Of what?” Satan said. “Of having my cock in your mouth?”

“Stop saying that.” Nate bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think very unsexy thoughts.

It didn’t work.

His thoughts kept fixating on Ferrara’s cock. Inches away from him. Probably half-hard at the very least, considering how horny Satan always was. Thick and long, standing tall between Ferrara’s muscular thighs, the cockhead fat and red and glistening with pre-come.

Nate’s mouth watered.

God, he needed to distract himself, before he could do something he would regret.

Nate searched for something to say. “Why did you leave Italy?”

“What makes you think I’ll tell you?” Ferrara said, but his tone was mild, almost soft.

Sensing a prime opportunity to actually get some answers, Nate opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling again. “Let’s play a game. You’ll honestly answer my question and then I’ll answer yours, and so on. If one of us doesn’t want to answer the question, he owes the other a hundred thousand dollars.”

“You don’t have a hundred thousand dollars.”

“I’m an open book,” Nate said with a smile, very pleased with himself for coming up with such an ingenious idea. Either he’d finally get some answers, or he’d be rich by the end of the night. Win-win. “I have nothing to hide, so I’m not going to need it.”

After a moment, Ferrara said, “Fine.”

It made Nate a little wary. Was there something Ferrara actually wanted to know about him? Something he wouldn’t want to answer?

“You first,” Nate said. “Why did you leave Italy? It’s obvious that you love it. There had to be a reason.”

He heard the other man exhale.

“There isn’t a single reason. There were a few reasons that contributed to my decision.”

“Come on, that’s not an answer.”

Ferrara was silent for so long Nate started thinking he wasn’t going to tell him, but finally, he broke the silence. “My uncle was shot in front me when I was nine,” he said, his voice quiet and so carefully toneless it didn’t sound natural. “My father has barely survived countless assassination attempts. That life… it isn’t as glamorous and fun as Hollywood makes it out to be. You have to constantly watch your back. You can’t even step out of the house without bodyguards. It drove me up the wall. I felt caged. I was utterly fed up by the time I was eighteen. I wanted out. And I got out.”

Nate frowned. He almost regretted asking the question now. He didn’t want to understand his boss or sympathize with him. He was also a little confused. Olivia had told him that Ferrara’s family had kicked him out. But then again, Ferrara leaving the family business likely hadn’t endeared him to his family. Maybe they were pissed off enough to refuse pay ransom for him. “You said there wasn’t just one reason.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Ferrara said, a hint of amusement appearing in his voice. “Yes, there were other reasons. Less important reasons.”

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You promised an honest answer.”

“An honest answer isn’t the same as a full answer. Technically I did answer your question.”

Nate glowered at him in the dark.

The bastard laughed. “I can practically see the face you’re making right now.”

Nate turned onto his side and poked at Ferrara’s ribs with his finger, hard. “Give me a full answer or that’s a hundred thousand dollars you owe me and I’m not answering any of your questions.”

Ferrara caught his hand and forced him to stop poking at his ribs. But instead of letting go of it, he just put Nate’s hand on his stomach.

Nate’s fingers twitched against the hard muscle and warm skin. He should probably remove his hand. But… it wasn’t doing anything. It was just laid on his boss’s abs. There was nothing weird about it, right?

“As far as I can remember, there have always been half-naked women in our house,” Ferrara said, his voice neutral once again. “When I was a kid, I didn’t know it wasn’t normal, and didn’t understand that there was a correlation between the half-naked women and my mother falling asleep with a wine bottle.”

He didn’t say anything else, but Nate could read between the lines. A cheating father and a depressed, alcoholic mother would make anyone want to leave such a toxic household. Coupled with the assassination attempts, bodyguards, and the immense pressure… Nate felt a reluctant pang of sympathy.

He chewed on his lip, stroking Ferrara’s happy trail absentmindedly. “Is that why you don’t do relationships? Because you didn’t see a good example of it growing up?”

“That’s two questions, not one. Shouldn’t it be your turn?”

“I’ll answer two questions if you answer this one.” Nate wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so important, but he just wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about this man, what made him tick, what had shaped him into the man he was now. It was probably a little messed-up how much he liked learning things about a man he couldn’t stand, but Nate had come to accept it. This man messed him up, period.

Ferrara gave a soft snort. “The answer isn’t interesting. I don’t do relationships because I’ve never met anyone who made me want to be monogamous. I don’t think that woman even exists, so I have no intention of making some poor woman miserable when I inevitably cheat on her.”

“Careful, you almost sound like a nice person,” Nate said with a smile. “All right, my turn! Ask away.”

Ferrara hummed and fell silent for a while.

It made Nate nervous. He tried to think of the worst question Ferrara could possibly ask. Fuck, what if he asked if Nate liked sucking his cock?

“Do you really hate working under me?”

Nate’s mind immediately went to the gutter. In his defense, Ferrara was fucking naked beside him; it was totally understandable that he had imagined being physically under him, which… He pushed the image away, his face uncomfortably warm. God, what the hell was wrong with him?

Nate cleared his throat a little. He opened his mouth to say that of course he hated it, but then he paused. That would be a lie. He couldn’t deny that he felt invigorated being back at work, which didn’t make sense, considering that there was nothing invigorating about the job of a PA.

“It’s not exactly the job of my dreams,” Nate said. “And you’re a horrible boss. Like, you’re so horrible I sometimes vividly imagine choking you with your own tie.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Of course it had been too much to hope that Satan wouldn’t notice that he was evading a straight answer.

“I don’t hate working for you anymore,” Nate said stiffly, tightening his grip. “I don’t like it, either.” He cleared his throat again, and said, desperate to switch the subject, “All right, second question. Go ahead.” Surely any other question would be less uncomfortable than this one.

“Are you going to jerk me off or not? All this fondling is just frustrating.”

Nate froze. Then, two things registered at the same time.

His hand was on Ferrara’s hard cock, fondling it absentmindedly.

His own cock was hard, too.

Fuck.

Nate snatched his hand away, his face burning. What the hell, he had no idea when he’d even started groping him!

“I was distracted by the conversation,” he said, wiping his hand off on the sheets. It did nothing to erase the feel of the warm, hard cock he’d just been touching. “I’m not responsible for my subconscious!”

Ferrara chuckled, but didn’t say anything. Thank fuck for small mercies.

Nate turned away and stared at the wall, feeling so confused and mortified. If he couldn’t even trust himself, who could he trust?