“You know, Jamie, I was so pleased when you called to invite me out to this event,” Bradley told me, a coy smile playing on his lips.

I managed to hitch a smile to my face, too, even though I wasn’t feeling it. “And I was very relieved when you said yes. Attending an event like this alone is so depressing,” I joked.

We were sitting at the bar, both perched on barstools and nursing a manhattan and an old-fashioned, respectively. Bradley was leaning on his elbow, his smooth jaw resting against the heel of his palm while he gazed at me. I could see little flickers of flirtation in his brown eyes, and I felt the same stirrings in the way he said my name. He was coming onto me, there was no doubt about it, and under normal circumstances, perhaps I would have even reciprocated the vibes he was putting out. Maybe in an alternate reality, another timeline, I would feel the same way and want the same thing he was clearly after.

In fact, I was kind of stunned to find that I didn’t feel that way. After all, Bradley was objectively a very good-looking, very successful, and interesting man. He had money and connections and a killer body. He spoke multiple languages, including French; the language of romance, right? There was a time when I once thought he was the most captivating, exciting guy I had ever met. Months ago, Bradley and I had come close to going on a date. I had been eyeing him for some time, and apparently the feeling had been mutual. Unfortunately for me, I ended up having to fly out of the country for business before we could get a chance to meet up one-on-one. I could still remember how crushed I was, how badly I had wanted to cancel my business trip and just stay in town for the date.

But tonight, now that we were finally getting our chance to play things out, I wasn’t feeling any spark. Not with him, anyway. Clearly our moment together, if you could even call it that, had long since passed.

And as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, I had a pretty good idea as to why that was. There was someone else on my mind, someone much less suited to my tastes, at least on paper. For all intents and purposes, Bradley was precisely the kind of guy I was supposed to be with. He ran around in the same circles. We had mutual friends and colleagues, lots of them. He was being a good date: attentive, responsive, just the right amount of suggestive; everything one could ask for. He could talk endlessly about charity events and galas and designer clothes and Michelin-star restaurants. But I didn’t want to talk to him about any of that. My heart – and my body – wanted to ditch Bradley and the trappings of what felt like an uncomfortable date, down the rest of my manhattan in one big gulp, and go hunting through the ritzy, overdressed crowds to find the guy I really wanted to spend my evening with: Damon.

Even if he was straight, even if he couldn’t feel the same attraction to me I felt for him, I still longed to hang out with him instead. Here I was, yet again, neglecting a perfectly good date in favor of lusting after someone totally unavailable. How typical. And how sad.

And yet, I had to admit, it didn’t feel totally one-sided. Maybe I was just kidding myself. Maybe I was imagining things, so caught up in my attraction to Damon that I was dreaming up impossible scenarios in which I could possibly get what I wanted. I wanted to scold myself, force myself to focus on stoking what little chemistry still existed between Bradley and me, if any.

But when Bradley reached over and grabbed my hand to suggest, with a fire dancing in those cinnamon-brown eyes, “We should dance!” it took all of my willpower not to rip my hand back from him and walk away.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I forced myself not to pull away like a petulant child and even managed to give him what I hoped was an excited smile (but was almost certainly more of a grimace) as I slid off my barstool.

“One second,” I said, grabbing my drink and gulping down the rest of it in a few short swigs.

Bradley chuckled.

“Oh, I’m not that terrible of a dancer! You don’t need to be buzzed first. Minimal stepping on toes, I promise,” he joked, biting his lip and pulling at my hand.

“Okay, done. Let’s go,” I agreed, setting down the empty glass.

I let him lead me through the throngs of people, the hum of the bass buzzing under my feet and rattling up through my body. I could feel the alcohol pulsing through my veins, making me a little lightheaded. That manhattan was going to have to do some heavy lifting to get me relaxed enough to enjoy a dance with Bradley. I had never been much of a dancer to begin with, but I was considerably less awkward about it when I had a partner I was genuinely attracted to. Tonight was not one of those nights. Not even the foggy lightness the alcohol gave me could keep me from contrasting how it felt holding Bradley’s hand versus that brief moment I shared with Damon the other day in the car. Bradley’s fingers laced with mine as he turned to face me, smiling as the lights above cast dancing shadows over his handsome face. He was so good looking, so suave. So seemingly perfect for me. And yet, there was an undeniable, blaring flaw keeping me from connecting with him.

He wasn’t Damon. He couldn’t even compare.

A deep sadness began to take hold of me as Bradley pulled me close and we started to sway together to the beat of the jazzy music. I hadn’t realized just how intense my feelings for Damon were until now, until I tried to force those feelings in another direction. I liked him. A lot. More than was safe. More than just a silly, passing crush. I wanted Damon for myself, even though it was impossible. He was straight. He would never be interested in me.

Bradley led me in slow, rocking circles around the makeshift dance floor, and with every spin, every dip, I felt my heart breaking even more. This was wrong, but it was my life. I needed to get used to it. This was my punishment, I thought to myself. My punishment for letting my heart chase after a straight man again.

I was so wrapped up in my dark thoughts that I hardly noticed Bradley subtly steering me away from the middle of the room, swaying and guiding me toward a dark corner that was significantly less populated with partygoers. I wasn’t sure why, but I assumed it had something to do with wanting to get me alone to talk about… well, whatever this date was supposed to turn into. Something more? Was that what Bradley wanted out of this? My legs felt like lead as he held me close. I didn’t want to disappoint him, but I would have to. After all, it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on. Just because I wasn’t into him didn’t mean he deserved to suffer.

But then some sort of animal instinct began to puncture through the fog of booze and sadness in my mind, warning me, urging me to pay attention. There in the shadows stood two figures, lurking, looking right at me with almost predatory eyes. Bradley was leading me right to them, like we were waltzing into a trap.

It hit me: no, we weren’t falling into a trap.

I was. And Bradley was the one pushing me right into it.

“I’m sorry. I need to…I have to…” I muttered, frantically pushing Bradley away from me, trying to disentangle my fingers from his hand.

He held on tight, the placid smile on his face mutating into a dark scowl. He wasn’t about to let go of me so easily.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that,” Bradley hissed between gritted teeth.

I managed to slip my hand free, only for one of the two men in the shadows to leap out and grab me by the shoulder, his fingertips digging painfully into my skin. As soon as the two figures stepped around me, Bradley slipped away, disappearing into the crowd, his mission evidently complete.

“Help,” I muttered, so stunned by fear that my voice was small and breathless. “Help!” I yelped, pooling all the air in my lungs to be louder.

“Quiet,” ordered the first man, starting to yank me away toward the exit.

The second guy moved behind me, essentially blocking me from view of the rest of the crowd. My heart hammered away, aching in my chest. This time was different from the assault on the sidewalk. This time, for some reason, my instincts weren’t fight or flight. It was to freeze. They’d won. I couldn’t fight them off.

But just as I was resigning myself to whatever horrible fate these guys had in store for me, I heard a sickening crunch followed by a guttural groan of pain, and the man behind me stumbled into me, his beefy shoulder bumping mine as he fell to the ground. I whipped around just in time to see Damon’s face, contorted with rage, his green eyes bright and flashing. His hands were balled into fists, his dark hair ruffled and falling loose around his temples. The first man, who was still holding me by the shoulder, swore under his breath and started to bolt, abandoning me. But Damon took a few broad, quick strides and jumped at the man, tackling him to the ground and punching him hard in the jaw. I clapped a hand over my mouth, my stomach turning at the horrible sound of bones cracking. Damon had the guy pinned, and he was showing no mercy whatsoever. Meanwhile, the second man managed to collect himself and stagger to his feet, bolting away from the scene and disappearing through the exit at the end of the great hall.

“Damon,” I gasped, watching him push my attacker’s face into the hard tile floor.

“You fucker,” he growled. “What is your game? What do you want with Davenport?”

The guy was clearly too stunned and in pain to give any kind of coherent response, and I realized Damon was more than prepared to continue kicking his ass. Fortunately for the guy, the security team hired for the convention came rushing over and peeled Damon up off the floor, pushing him back while the other grabbed my assailant, flipping him over and pinning his arms behind his back while blood dripped out of his mouth to stain the floor in bright red splotches.

I stood there in total shock, eyes wide and body rigid. People were watching us now, the security guys causing a scene and shouting for everyone to get back.

“What the hell happened here?” demanded one of the security guards.

“This gentleman and his cohort just tried to attack and kidnap my… my boss,” Damon explained, glancing at me. “But the other guy got away. Ran off like a little coward. You might still be able to catch him if you move fast.”

“We’ll send a message to the security at the exits. Maybe they can trap him there,” said the officer. “But I need you both to stay out of it.”

“Fine. He’s all yours,” Damon said, holding up both hands. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he added, his voice dripping with acidity.

Then he rounded on me, grabbing my forearm and peering intently into my eyes.

“What do I do? I – I have to give my presentation, but…” I trailed off, still barely choking out the syllables I needed to say.

Damon’s grip on my arm softened slightly and a glint of concern passed through the green of his eyes.

“No. You call one of your junior representatives to have them do it. You are in no condition to give a presentation right now, and besides, we have no way of knowing whether there might be more of these fuckers lurking around in the crowd somewhere. This convention has been compromised, and if you think for one second I’m going to let you further jeopardize your safety for some speech, you’re out of your mind. We’re going up to your suite. Now,” Damon insisted.

Then he glanced back at the expo security officers and quipped, “You guys got a handle on this? I need to escort my boss upstairs.”

“Yeah, man. Go ahead. We’ll get the perp processed. Go on,” said the officer quickly.

Damon nodded. “Good.”

He grasped my hand and began to pull me away from the scene, clearing a path through the gawking crowd, giving death glares to anyone who dared look at me. My heart was still pounding, my head aching. I was in shock, and I knew it. As we briskly walked down the hall and to the elevator, taking it up to my floor, the only thing rooting me in reality was the sensation of Damon’s hand holding mine.

He took the room keys out of my pocket and fit them in the lock, pushing it open and pulling me inside. Then he engaged all the locks on the door and rounded on me with a conflicted look on his gorgeous face.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked.

Wordlessly, I handed it over to him. He scrolled through my contacts list until he found my intern’s number.

He called it and said curtly, “You will be doing the presentation in Mr. Davenport’s place. Can you handle that? Yes? Good. That is all.”

He hung up and set my phone down on the dresser, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily. I could feel the anger pulsing off of him, and it both thrilled and frightened me at the same time. We stood in silence for a few seconds, and then he looked up at me, and the intensity of his gaze nearly melted me where I stood. But as the shock wore off and I drifted back to reality, I felt my own anger start to burn in my chest.

I managed to slip out the words, “Where were you?”

Damon frowned. “I was there. What do you mean? I caught the guys. I did my job.”

I took a step forward. “No, you weren’t there. Not at first. It was just Bradley and me. You were nowhere in sight. Aren’t you…aren’t you supposed to be my bodyguard?” I accused.

He raised an eyebrow and folded his strong arms over his chest. “My apologies. I didn’t realize the two of you had left a little space for me in between you while you were dancing. My bad. I should have been there to crimp your style on your little date with Bradley,” he shot back.

I was stunned by the venom in his words. It was more than just anger, though. There was something else, something I never expected: jealousy?

“Oh, like you had a problem with Bradley in the first place,” I sneered. “You didn’t see him as a threat, either. You just let me go off with him by myself. You let me walk right into a damn trap, Damon, and I don’t understand why. We’ve been joined at the hip for days, but the second I’m in real danger, you’re nowhere to be found. Why is that, huh? Why couldn’t you stick close by and watch me with Bradley?”

“Would you have liked that, Jamie? For me to stand there awkwardly while you dance with some smarmy, spoiled rich guy who doesn’t care about you and would never treat you the way you deserve to be treated. You’re better than that, Jamie. Or at least I thought you were,” he insulted, letting his arms drop to his sides.

My heart ached. I hated seeing him angry with me. “So, let me get this straight. You were so disgusted by the idea of my dating Bradley that you abandoned your duties? Is the sight of two men dancing together so repulsive to you that it stopped you from doing your job?” I snarled.

Damon angrily stepped up to me, his chest heaving, those eyes bright with fire.

“It’s not that I hate you being with a man,” he replied curtly. “It’s that…it’s that I hate seeing you with someone else.”

“Wh-what?” I spluttered, eyes wide. “What are you saying? You’re jealous?”

Damon groaned, rolling his eyes and raking his fingers back through his dark hair.

Then he looked me square in the eyes and said, “Yeah. Yes. I’m jealous. You happy?”

“But I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re not…you’re straight.”

Damon’s lips parted slowly, and his eyes flicked down to my mouth before bouncing back up to my eyes.

“I guess…I guess I’m not as straight as I thought I was,” he murmured, and every word thrummed like a gong in my head.

I felt dizzy, disoriented by this new, impossible information. But before I could think about it too much, Damon interrupted me…

With a kiss.

His hands moved up to cup my face, his calloused thumbs stroking lovingly across the shape of my cheekbones while his lips pressed against mine, softly and questioningly at first, then with more passion and release once I kissed him back. I stood on tiptoe to better reach him, to meet his lips and tongue as they crashed against mine. His hands roved down my cheeks, over my neck. His thumbs rolled lightly over the front of my throat, pressing just hard enough to send a shiver of arousal through my body. I moaned against his lips, feeling overwhelmed with stimulation as his tongue pushed into my mouth, exploring, tasting me. He was somehow both aggressive and hesitant, like he was desperately trying to hold back his powerful desires. His body arched toward mine, moving closer and closer until our hard bodies were flush up against each other.

Just like in my fantasies, I could feel every rigid, tensing muscle in his body. Every tiny movement he made sent ripples of power down his frame and piqued my interest higher and higher. I was becoming lost to the waves of overwhelming emotion and need coursing through me. I wanted him closer. I wanted him harder. I wanted to touch every inch of his body, explore Damon’s presence like he was some beautiful, uncharted, lush landscape I wanted to make my home. I needed him. I needed to know him, head to toe. Even in the magical rush of the moment, somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this might be the only time. The one chance. I was going to get as much out of this encounter as possible. It was a fluke. It had to be. But a chance like this wouldn’t happen to me again. I was lucky, sure, but I would never be this lucky again.

Whatever stars or planets or strumming strings of fate had aligned to make this moment possible might never do the same again. And I was not leaving empty-handed. I was going to commit every moan, every touch, every whispered word to memory. I was going to hold onto this for the rest of my life.

But first, I needed to be sure. I needed him to be sure.

Almost too afraid to ask for fear that I might scare him away, I asked softly between fervent kisses, “Damon, do you really want this?”

He reared back and looked at me full in the face, reading me over for a moment. My heart thumped like crazy as I waited for an answer. I was starting to lose hope when finally, Damon grabbed me by the shoulders and walked me backwards, pinning me between the wall and his body. He slid a hand down the front of my tailored pants, his fingers lightly brushing over the growing bulge there, making the breath catch in my throat.

Damon leaned in close until his lips were barely touching the sensitive shell of my ear, and he murmured, “Yes. I know what I want, Jamie. I’ve known it since day one.”

“Then take it,” I hissed back. “Take whatever you want from me. You can have it. I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

“Perfect,” he muttered, kissing a soft line down the side of my ticklish neck, giving me goose bumps. “You’re perfect.”

His hand began to move up and down slowly, massaging the thickness filling between my thighs. My eyes rolled back in my head as I gently rocked my hips, meeting his touch eagerly, desperately. I clung to him as his lips moved down further, and when his teeth began to tug at the tie knot at my throat, I could scarcely remember how to breathe. He ripped the knot undone, then reached up to loosen the tie, holding it taut while I rushed to unbutton my starchy designer shirt. I was frantic to shed these stupid layers of fabric between us. I needed to feel his skin against mine. I wouldn’t be able to breathe until we were touching all over.

I quickly shed my shirt, untucking it and tossing it across the room before turning back to kiss Damon again. He was doing the same, fumbling with his tie to loosen it and toss it over his shoulder before stripping off his shirt. I couldn’t resist laying my palms flat against his chest, reveling in the hardness of his pectoral muscles, sliding down to run my fingertips over his abdominals.

He’s flawless, his body the ideal by which all other men ought to be judged, I thought to myself.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I swore softly, shaking my head.

Damon blessed me with a beautiful, genuine smile before kicking off his shoes and unzipping his pants. He stepped out of his pants and boxers to stand gloriously naked in front of me save for the tie over his shoulder. His cock was swollen and erect, bouncing slightly between his legs. I felt my mouth water just looking at it.

“Your turn,” Damon growled, reaching to unzip my pants and pull them down with my briefs.

I held my breath, nervous that once he saw my cock he might remember how straight he was and run away. But instead, he merely groaned, taking my twitching, desperate cock into his hands with a boyish curiosity. He began to stroke me slowly, rhythmically, sending spirals of pure pleasure through my core.

“You know how to do this,” I murmured, and it was as much a question as a statement.

Damon gave me a roguish smirk. “I have the same parts as you. I imagine what feels good for me will feel good for you. I hope,” he added as an afterthought.

I smiled, finding it totally endearing to see him a little out of his element for once.

I was going to make this worth his while, that was for sure.

“Don’t worry about me,” I told him. “I’ll guide you.”

I gently pushed his hands away from me and locked eyes with him as I sank slowly to my knees in front of him. Damon looked down at me, his lips parted, chest heaving. He looked so damn sexy from this angle, all sinew and bulging muscle. I felt him tense up, holding his breath as I stroked his cock with both hands, swirling slowly up and down, paying special attention to the engorged head and sensitive underside. His hands traveled down to run through my hair, pressing gently at the back of my head, as though he couldn’t help himself. I knew what he wanted, and I intended to give him every bit of it.

I leaned in and gently tugged the head of his shaft into my warm mouth, still pumping him up and down with my hands. Damon groaned appreciatively, tensing up and shivering with pleasure. I smiled, even as his thickness stretched my cheeks, letting one of my hands slip down to fondle his heavy balls while I bobbed up and down on his cock. I swirled my tongue around the purplish head, then sucked him down to the root, feeling the tip of his cock tickle the back of my throat. Damon was moaning and gasping for more, his fingers pressed into the back of my head. He was losing control, and I was the one responsible. I had never felt so powerful.

I pumped his cock with both hands and my mouth, moving faster and sucking harder until his hips were bucking involuntarily and my name was hanging like an epithet from his lips.

“Jamie,” he gasped breathlessly. “Holy fuck.”

I hummed a little as I sucked him off, adding vibrations to the pleasure. He was shaking a little now, and I knew even his strong body needed something to rest against. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and took him deep into my mouth, nearly gagging myself on his cock.

“Shit. You’re so good. That mouth…” he trailed off.

I was fully prepared to bring him all the way to orgasm. I wanted to taste him, to swallow down his salty seed while he groaned my name. I could hardly think of anything hotter. That is, until he gently pushed me back and pulled me to my feet to kiss me hard. I knew he was tasting himself on my tongue, but he didn’t shy away from it like I expected. Damon held me, stroking my face with one hand while his other slipped down to position his cock next to mine. Holding us in place, he began to rut, his shaft sticky with saliva as it stroked against mine. He kissed me deeply while we moved against each other, cocks twitching and pulsating with the growing need for release. There was nothing more in my mind but desire, no greater aspiration than to give this beautiful man what he wanted.

“I want more,” he murmured. “But I don’t…I don’t know how to begin.”

I nodded and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I know. I’ll show you.”

I took him by the hand and led him over to the bed, pressing at his shoulders to make him sit down.

“One second,” I said.

I stepped over to the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom and a tiny bottle of lube; I always traveled prepared, just in case. Damon watched me with rapt attention as I opened the wrapper and took out the condom, walking back over to kneel in front of him on the bed.

“Are you sure?” I asked him one more time, reading the look on his face as apprehension.

But then he closed his lips and looked at me hard, nodding. I smiled, my heart starting to pound like crazy. I slowly, cautiously slid the condom on over his huge, twitching cock. As soon as that was finished, it was like Damon got a second wind. He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around so that he was straddling me, pressing me into the soft mattress. I looked up at him coyly, expecting him to take his time. I expected him to be more cautious and reluctant.

But I was wrong. He was just as desperate for closeness as I was. Damon leaned back on his heels, his hands stroking his cock. I handed him the little bottle of lube. He looked at it for a moment before squirting it liberally into his palm. Watching my face to make sure he was doing this right, he leaned forward and began to massage the lube against my tight asshole. I moaned instantly, arching my back as his fingertips slowly, methodically worked their way into me, loosening me up, even as my body tensed for more.

“Does that feel good?” Damon asked me, and his voice was more like a growl.

I nodded, unable to catch my breath as he fingered my ass. “Y-Yes. So good.”

An endearing flush spread across his face. This was new for him, but he was so determined to make it good for me. As if I wasn’t already on cloud nine. He worked his fingers deeper inside me, sliding in and out until I was twitching and shuddering with need.

“So tight,” he muttered.

I nodded. “Imagine how tight it’ll feel around your cock,” I whispered.

I saw his shaft visibly twitch with need at my words.

“Can I?” he hissed, clearly using every ounce of self-control to hold back.

“Do it. I want you, Damon. I’ve wanted you the whole damn time,” I told him.

He slid his fingers out and, never breaking eye contact with me, positioned the thick head of his cock against my ass. We both held our breath as he slowly, gently pressed into me, centimeter by centimeter. He was so huge, I moaned and grasped at the bedsheets for traction. I felt him stretching me out, filling me up so completely that I could hardly breathe.

Finally, his entire shaft was sheathed inside me and the look on Damon’s face told me he had never experienced anything quite like this before. His hands balled into fists, gripping the sheets on either side of my head as he pulled back, sliding nearly all the way out of me before slamming back inside. I cried out in mingled pain and pleasure, breathing raggedly.

“Are you okay?” Damon growled, concern in his eyes.

“You won’t hurt me,” I assured him. “You couldn’t. Just fuck me, Damon.”

That was all it took.

He reared back and pounded into my ass, thrusting faster and harder as he relinquished control and simply gave in to his desires. My own cock twitched between my thighs. I reached down to lightly stroke myself while he pummeled into me more erratically, animalistic grunts coming from his throat. Damon fucked me harder and harder, his cock spearing against my prostate with nearly every stroke until I was whimpering, arching my back, hooking my legs up over his broad shoulders.

“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me harder,” I choked out, feeling my cock tense up.

Damon gave me a guttural snarl in response, his hips snapping back and forth as he lost control. I stroked my cock faster in tandem with his thrusts, both of us groaning and gasping as we spiraled higher and higher out of control.

“Jamie,” he whispered. “I’m…I’m…”

“Do it. Fill me up, Damon. Please, don’t stop,” I begged him.

A moment later, my own cock began to spurt hot, thick cream all over my stomach. Damon’s eyes widened at the sight of me writhing and whimpering in pleasure, and it brought him right to the edge.

“Oh, fuck. Jamie!” he bellowed, his whole body seizing up as his cock exploded inside me.

I heard him moan as he pumped into me a few more times. He all but collapsed next to me, his cock still inside me as he pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I curled up into his body, both of us shuddering and panting as we came down from the high together, wrapped up in the hazy glow.