Recap: After weeks of quiet tension following their first time together, Alex finally confronted Greg about the distance between them. What began as a nervous late-night talk turned into an explosive confession, with both admitting they couldn’t stop thinking about each other. The conversation quickly deepened into a raw, physical moment where Greg’s curiosity overcame his restraint. He went down on Alex for the first time, then took things further, fucking him again with new intensity and emotion. By the end, Greg could no longer deny that he wanted it…wanted him even if it shattered everything he thought he knew about his sexuality.
The morning after felt almost normal.
Almost.
Greg was already in the kitchen, shirt on, tie half-done, reading something on his phone like nothing had happened.. Like we hadn’t just fucked last night like long lost lovers. My hole ached in that slow, good way that reminded me exactly what had happened.. Reminded me how my boss’s cock felt inside me.., but Greg didn’t seem fazed at all. He looked calm. Composed. Like my boss again… like Mr. Lawson.
I poured my coffee quietly. Our eyes met once. He gave me a nod. Nothing more.
At the office, he slipped right into work mode. “Morning, Alex,” he said, not a flicker of last night in his tone. No smirk. Just business. It was the kind of composure that made my pulse jump because it felt like he was hiding something too.
I tried to focus on my emails, but every time I glanced up, I caught him looking my way. Not obvious… just a second too long. A brush of eye contact that burned. Once, during a meeting, he leaned over to hand me a document, and his fingers grazed mine. That single touch sent a pulse straight to my cock.
Later, when the team left for lunch, he called me into his office.
“Close the door.”
I did. My throat went dry.
He stayed standing by the window, arms crossed, watching the city below. “We need to be careful,” he said finally. “Someone could notice.”
“I know,” I said, quieter than I meant to. “We need to stop.”
He turned. “You really think we can?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because the way he looked at me… sharp suit, jaw tense, eyes dark told me he didn’t believe it either.
I shifted, hands on the edge of the desk. “Greg, if anyone finds out…”
He stepped closer, slow enough that I felt my pulse rise with each footstep. His hand brushed my wrist, a tiny touch that felt louder than a kiss. “Then we’ll stop,” he said, voice low. “Right after this.”
Before I could speak, he pressed me back against the desk and kissed me. It wasn’t soft. It was quick, hungry and dangerous. His hand slid down my waist, gripping the edge of my shirt..and he squeezed my ass. I gasped, pushing him away with a shaky breath. “Someone could walk in.”
He smiled. “Then you should go before they do.”
I left his office with my face hot and my heart pounding, pretending nothing happened. For the rest of the afternoon, every time I passed his door, he didn’t look up but I felt his gaze anyway. The air between us had changed again, stretched thin by restraint that neither of us had mastered.
That evening, we barely spoke. We came home late, both tired, both pretending the day hadn’t happened. Greg made dinner. I sat on the couch scrolling through my phone, trying to act normal. The silence wasn’t awkward, it was heavy. Like the tension was sitting right there between us, breathing with us.
Then it happened.
I got up to put my plate in the sink, and as I brushed past him, my arm grazed his. Just skin on skin, but enough. He looked up. His eyes met mine… same eyes that had ordered me around all day, same eyes that had watched me from across the office pretending not to.
I froze. He stepped closer.
“Alex,” he said, voice low. “We’re really bad at stopping.”
I laughed, barely. “Yeah, I noticed.”
He moved in, slow enough that I could have stepped away, but I didn’t. His hand came up to my jaw, thumb brushing my chin. The smell of his cologne hit me… faint, familiar, wrong in all the right ways.
Then his lips were on mine again. Softer this time. Careful, almost. Like he was trying not to lose control and failing anyway. My hands found his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, the steady rise and fall of his breath.
He pulled back just long enough to whisper, “Tell me to stop.”
I didn’t.
I kissed him again, and this time he didn’t hold back.
He didn’t hold back this time.
His mouth moved against mine, deep and hot, and the rest of the world fell away. The kitchen light buzzed softly above us, casting everything in a pale gold haze. I could taste the faint salt of his skin, the beer on his tongue, the quiet hum of something we both pretended not to want all day.
Greg pressed me against the counter, his hands firm on my waist. His thumb drew a slow circle against my hip, teasing, testing. I tilted my head back as he kissed down my jaw, tracing a line to my neck. My pulse was right there, thudding under his lips.
“You sure about this?” he murmured, breath warm against my throat.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He chuckled low. “You always say that right before we do something we shouldn’t.”
“Then maybe stop asking, Mr. Lawson,” I whispered.
That got a grin out of him. He kissed me again, slower now, his tongue sliding just enough to make me gasp. My hands slipped up his back, feeling the muscle shift under the thin fabric of his shirt.. his bulge pressing against my thighs.
He pulled back, searching my face like he was checking for hesitation. There wasn’t any. Not anymore.
“Greg…” I said softly, not sure what I meant to say next.
He didn’t let me finish. His lips found mine again, hungrier this time. The kiss deepened, teeth grazing, our breathing messy and uneven. Every exhale brushed against my cheek, every sound he made went straight to my cock.
When his hand slid lower, cupping my ass, I couldn’t stop the small noise that escaped me. His palm was warm through the fabric of my pants, fingers pressing just enough to make my knees weak.
“Christ,” he muttered against my mouth. “You’re going to get me fired.”
“You’re my boss,” I breathed. “Isn’t that your problem?”
He laughed quietly, the sound vibrating against my lips. Then his other hand came up to my face, thumb dragging across my lower lip before slipping it inside, slow. “You’ve got a mouth that doesn’t quit, you know that?”
I sucked lightly on his thumb, watching his expression change.. surprise, then something darker. His pupils widened, and for a second, it looked like he might lose control right there.
But he didn’t.
He took a step back, chest rising and falling, the edge of restraint creeping back in. “We said we’d stop.”
I swallowed, still tasting him. “We keep saying that, don’t we?.”
Silence stretched.
The clock ticked somewhere behind us. The fridge hummed. My heart wouldn’t slow down.
He sighed finally and ran a hand through his hair, eyes flicking to me, then the floor, then back. “If anyone at the office ever found out—”
“They won’t.”
“You sure about that?”
I shrugged. “You’re the one who keeps kissing me.”
That earned another quiet laugh, and something in his shoulders softened. He stepped forward again, slow, close enough that I could feel the heat off his chest. For a moment, it looked like he was going to kiss me again. He didn’t. He just stood there, inches away, staring like he couldn’t decide whether to touch me or walk away.
“I’m trying to do the right thing,” he said.
“Then maybe stop looking at me like that,” I said quietly.
He blinked, but he didn’t move. He was still too close, and the air between us felt heavy, humming with everything we weren’t supposed to feel.
Finally, he broke the stare and stepped back, exhaling hard. “We need to get some sleep.”
I nodded, throat tight. “Yeah.”
I started toward my room, but before I turned the corner, he said, “Alex.”
I looked back.
“Lock your door tonight.”
The words should’ve sounded cold, but they didn’t. They sounded like a dare.
I managed a small smile. “You planning to test it?”
He didn’t answer. Just smirked, ran his hand along the back of his neck, and turned off the kitchen light. The apartment went dark except for the faint city glow slipping through the windows.
I lay in bed later, staring at the ceiling, still tasting his mouth, still feeling his hand on my ass…..the feeling of his cock against my touch. Every sound from down the hall made me tense, hoping it was him..
But he didn’t come.
And that was somehow worse.
Because I knew, without even seeing him, that he was lying awake too… replaying the same kiss, the same touches, wondering how much longer either of us could pretend to stop.
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