Chapter Five

Michael put the pen down for the millionth time. The end was already chewed to bits. Too many final tests had turned his bad habit into a near compulsion. His screen flickered with terminal windows running scripts; the scrolling text jangled his nerves as scripts executed command after command.

Forum started in four days. These were the last tests he needed to run to stamp the release ready to be shipped. If they passed. Please, please pass.

They’d spent the past three weeks in high gear. Everyone who could worked long hours in the office, and those who couldn’t put in time from home. Even Sam had stayed, rolling up his sleeves and helping with installation testing. He also pulled out the company credit card and ordered dinner for the office every night.

And they’d done it. Michael eyed his screen. Maybe.

Shoes scuffed the carpet near his cube and he turned to see Sam in the aisle. No jacket, loose tie. His hair was even a touch unruly. “How’s it coming?”

Michael gestured at the screen. “Still running. Shouldn’t be long now.”

Sam stepped inside the cube and touched the guest chair. “May I?”

Michael nodded. Sam pulled the chair up next to Michael’s and sat.

Sam’s presence was not exactly soothing, but it was welcome. They’d found a rhythm again as coworkers, as boss and lead, and that eased the tension in everyone around them.

They made a good team, really. He ignored the sudden hollowness in his chest and picked up a pen, a different one than before. It too, was chewed on the end. He tossed it back. “Fuck.” It was only a murmur, just a curse under his breath. He doubted Sam heard. He bounced his leg until the cube walls vibrated and Sam put a hand on his thigh.

“Stop.”

The touch, the command, ripped through Michael and stilled everything, even his breathing. The warmth of Sam’s hand blazed through Michael’s shorts and straight to the back of his skull. He shuddered and took a deep breath. The room seemed both dimmer and brighter. Was this what Sam felt when Michael took control? Jesus.

“The tests will pass.” Sam didn’t remove his hand.

They hadn’t touched, not in any intimate sense, since dinner at the Sharp Edge. Probably a good thing, since Sam’s hand on his thigh was making it very hard to think.

“How do you know?” Somehow Michael’s voice didn’t falter, didn’t sound unnatural. He stared at the scrolling text, even as his cock hardened.

A deep chuckle, one Michael felt in his bones. “Because it’s you.” Sam tapped his fingers and Michael fought to contain a moan. “Your attention to detail has been the bane of everyone’s existence for weeks. I doubt we missed anything.”

“We always miss something.” It was the nature of software. Hardware, too. None of it was perfect.

“I’m not talking about weird corner cases or the box not working when submerged in water or set on fire. I mean normal functionality. A product as rock solid as you’ve released before.”

Only if the tests passed. Michael hazarded a look at Sam to find the other man watching him.

The desire to kiss Sam was overwhelming. He nearly did, twisting slightly in his chair. The things he wanted to say. I want you. I need you. Every nerve felt like a live wire. Rock solid didn’t just describe the release . . .

Get a grip. He’s your goddamn boss. Beyond Sam, a little rainbow flag sat, stuck in a mug of pens. A reminder. Never again. Michael cleared his throat. “I certainly hope so.”

They turned back to the screens at the same time. Three of the five windows no longer had scrolling text. All three read “pass.” Sam gripped Michael’s thigh, but this time the breathlessness Michael felt wasn’t from that touch, but from watching one of the test scripts cleaning up and resetting the hardware.

“Here we go,” Sam said.

The script finished. Pass.

Together they sat and watched the last script run, both leaning forward toward the screen. When the script entered the cleanup phase, Sam hissed.

“Come on, come on,” Michael muttered. This job would give him an aneurysm one of these days.

Pass.

Neither of them moved. “Holy shit,” Michael whispered.

“Told you.” Sam leaned back, his voice low as well. “You’re the best.” Finally, he took his hand from Michael.

The loss of the warmth, the pressure, the knowledge of Sam’s presence sent a bolt of sadness straight through the joy and relief coursing through Michael. Unsettled, he stood. “I guess we should tell the team.”

Sam rose as well, and pushed the guest chair back to its place. “You should let them know. It’s your victory. You’ve been working toward this for so long.”

Sam didn’t mean the release. “Thanks.” Michael needed to calm down. Good God, they were done. Everything passed. “Mind if I send everyone home?”

“God, no. Kick ’em out.” Sam’s grin was huge. “They deserve the rest.” He turned to leave, then paused. “Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“Good job.” Then Sam was gone.

Michael grabbed the back of his chair. The words had been professional. The tone, however, had been a caress, like silk on skin, as if Sam had spoken entirely different words, as if he had said—

Michael shook himself and walked out of the cube. Enough with fantasies. Time to spread the good news.

***

In the end, they sent everyone home, even HR and support. Michael finished his rounds and found himself in front of Sam’s office. Inside Sam tapped away at his keyboard, seemingly oblivious to Michael’s presence.

“You should go home, too,” Michael said.

Sam started and whipped around in his chair. “God. Don’t do that!”

“Sorry.” He leaned against the doorframe and tried to keep the smile from his lips.

Sam snorted. “The fuck you are.”

Seeing Sam breathless and reddening? He’d never grow tired of that. Michael shrugged. “Didn’t think I was being all that quiet. And you should go home.” So damn good to be able to banter again, if nothing else.

Sam waved his words away. “Can’t. I have presentations for Forum to work on.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something about that.”

“I’m an idiot with PowerPoint.” Michael pushed himself off the doorframe and took a seat in one of the guest chairs. “So, I can’t help you there.”

“Not about the presentations. About Forum.”

That was interesting, as was the ruddy hue of Sam’s face. “What about Forum?”

“They would like to meet one of the engineering staff. Someone from the technical side of things.”

They? “The board?” That didn’t make sense. The board knew Michael, all too well.

Sam shook his head.

A little flutter, like a micro bolt of electricity ran through Michael’s chest. If not the board, then Sundra Networks. Still, he had to ask. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Sundra wants to see if we really know our shit.”

“No, Sam, why me?”

Sam didn’t speak for several moments, though his lips parted. Eventually, words came out. “Because you founded this place, Michael, official paperwork or not.”

The photo album still sat on Sam’s desk, reminder of his past, both good and bad.

“You know Four Rivers’ tech better than anyone else and from end to end. And experience has shown me that you can think on your feet.” Sam paused, then added. “When you’re not being an ass.”

He couldn’t deny the last bit. “I promise not to be an ass.”

“You’ll have to give a presentation on the technology.” Sam waved over his shoulder. “I have the slides created, but it’ll sound better coming from you.”

The energy he felt earlier flagged a bit. Public speaking wasn’t his thing. Oh he could do it, he just hated it. But to miss a chance to meet folks at Sundra? Be a part of selling his company, even if it wasn’t his anymore? “I’ll do it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Anything else?”

Sam tented his hands, a trace of a smile flickering on his face. “You’ll have to wear a suit.”

Michael quashed his own desire to smile, and winced instead. “I can do that, too.” A dark joy warmed Michael’s core. Sam would see how well he could clean up. Another chance to fluster Sam, to leave him breathless. If it couldn’t be from sex or a beating, Michael would make do with other ways.

“Good.” Sam spun back to his computer, brought up a screen that looked suspiciously like travel arrangements, and pressed a button. “We leave on Sunday.” When he rotated back to Michael, he held something silver in his left hand.

The cuff link. The lust was nearly instant and almost painful. Sam must have read his expression, because he grinned.

You little bastard. It wasn’t an invitation, but it was close to one. All their talks must have worn off. Damn it all.

Well, if Sam wanted it, he was going to get it. Enough fooling around. He’d show Sam what being out could be like.

Michael rose, completely aware of just how hard he’d become in those few seconds. “I guess I’d better go home and think about packing.”

There’d be a bit more than a suit going into his luggage.