Constant, page 11
The gentleman climbed out of the car. He placed a folded bill in Fynn’s hand. “Ignore the girls. They’re picky sometimes.” He turned to the open door. “Coming, Hornish? The girls won’t wait long.”
“You go ahead.” Miles waved. “I’m heading home. I’ve partied enough for one night.”
“Really?” The guy put one finger in the air, then leaned into the back seat. Whatever he said to Miles, Fynn couldn’t hear. When he stood back up, he shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He gave Fynn a half smile then strolled into the club.
Fynn gripped the handle to shut the car door.
“I think I’d like to ride up front this time.” Miles slid forward and emerged from the back seat. “You ride up there all alone. Might as well keep you company for a change.” He opened the passenger door and plopped down on the seat.
Stunned, Fynn shut the back seat door and scurried around the back of the vehicle. Something wasn’t right. Miles never sat up front. Hell, Miles never said much more than directions to where he wanted to go and to ask about the weather.
Fynn opened the driver’s side door and sat down behind the wheel. “Where would you like to go, Sir?”
“Home, Gold. I’d like to go home.”
Miles clicked the seatbelt into place and noticed the item on the front seat. Ah, so that’s what Fynn does when he’s waiting. Miles touched the worn edge of the leather cover. Here I thought he watched me.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Fynn grabbed the iPad and opened the glove box. “I shouldn’t have had that out.”
“Why?” Miles turned in his seat to watch Fynn move. The younger man’s hands trembled. The aura of control slipped, revealing the truer Fynn.
“I’m protecting you when you’re out, not reading the latest by Cash Norman.” Fynn put the car into gear and edged out into the flow of traffic.
Miles focused on Fynn. He wasn’t about to let anyone see into his secret fear. No fucking way. Being in the front seat of the car sent shudders through his body. Instead of closing his eyes, he studied Fynn’s profile. If he closed his eyes, he’d see the accident again. Damn it, he’d relived the crash so many times in his brain, he wanted the whole thing to fizzle away.
Fynn sped around a corner and pitched Miles sideways in his seat. The move squashed him tight against Fynn’s shoulder.
“Oh my God. I’m sorry.” Fynn gripped the steering wheel. “The traffic’s bad for this time of night. A ballgame must be letting out.” He came to a stop at the traffic light. “I’ll go a little slower.”
“It’s fine, Gold.” What a freaking great way to come on to a guy! Miles bit down hard on the tip of his tongue. So many other things popped up in his brain. I enjoyed leaning on you. Nice, but the sentiment sounded goofy. How about you take another corner that fast so I can stay tucked against you? Oh brother. Mind if I practically sit in your lap because riding in the front seat reminds me of the car crash that killed my first lover? He’d rather eat live bait.
Miles could almost hear his former lover laughing. God, Hornish. You’re a confident real estate mogul and a Dominant. Stop being a fucking pansy. Make a move or shut the fuck up.
Except he hadn’t said much at all.
“Gold, do you mind if I call you Fynn?” Miles balled his fists to keep the trembling at bay. From the ride or because he’d ventured into a new area of his relationship with Fynn? He wasn’t sure.
“Uh, that’s fine, Sir.” Fynn kept his gaze forward and his grip tight on the wheel. “You can call me whatever you’d like.” He maneuvered the car off the freeway and headed down the city streets to Miles’ mansion. The other mansions and estates twinkled in the bright moonlight. Splashes of color from the landscape lighting offset the pale hues from the moon.
Miles’ thoughts turned from the scenery to Fynn. Had Fynn watched him masturbate? Miles snorted. He sure as hell hoped Fynn had seen the show. The girls did nothing for him. Even Galen, his one-time fling, hadn’t set his pulse racing. No, only the sexy man behind the polished shades seemed to give him wood.
Within moments, Fynn drove down the tree-lined lane leading to Miles’ house. He stopped the car beside the main steps. “Home, Sir.”
“Thanks, Fynn.” Miles placed his hand on Fynn’s. “Come inside with me.”
“Sir?” The word came out choked.
“It’s past two in the morning.” Miles inched across the seat and bumped hips with Fynn. “You’re my employee and my friend. Instead of making you drive home this late, I’d like to you stay in the guest room.”
Fynn opened his mouth to reply, but Miles didn’t give him the chance to say a word. He slipped the dark glasses from Fynn, then tipped Fynn’s chin up and stole the kiss he’d wanted for ages. For a moment Fynn pulled away. No matter. Miles placed his index finger over Fynn’s lips. Dear God, the man tasted good. From his head to his toes, Miles tingled. His cock thickened behind his zipper. He’d been kissed plenty of times, but no one affected him quite like the driver. A thought hit him between the eyes—he wanted more than friendship or even a work relationship with Fynn. He wanted affection. Anticipation slid through his veins. He couldn’t wait to kiss Fynn again and again. Hot damn!
“I don’t dick with feelings and I don’t go for what I don’t want.” He rubbed Fynn’s bottom lip. “I want you, right now, and not as my driver.”
Fynn’s blue eyes widened.
“You like when you’re given an order. I like to give orders.” He leaned closer to Fynn. “I wanted you to watch me. Wanted to see you get hot and come undone because of me.”
“I did,” Fynn whispered.
“I want to bring you pleasure and hear you scream my name.” Miles swiped his tongue over Fynn’s bottom lip. “Do you want me to control you?”
“Yes, Sir. I do.”
Order your copy here
About the Author
When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.
When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.
She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.
Email: theauthormeganslayer@gmail.com
Megan loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by Megan Slayer
Permanent
Vaulting
Drive My Car
Out of Bounds: Crossing the Line
Megan Slayer, Constant
