HIDE

EPISODE 30 - DID IT AGAIN.

The dinner dragged and Brandon was bent on both focusing on his food and ignoring the annoyingly hot boss that sat beside him. 

But f**k, it was impossible. His senses were hyperaware of everything Wilson did, his ears straining to hear his conversation with the woman to his right. 

They were conversing in low tones, the woman smiling widely and playing with her hair as she looked Wilson in the eyes.

Brandon pursed his lips, a little annoyed. Of course, he and Wilson were not actually a real couple, but the woman did not know that. Why the hell was she flirting with a supposedly taken man while Brandon was right there? It was utterly shameless. And it was utterly shameless the way her dark eyes kept roaming over Wilson’s muscular chest—the asshole had not bothered to button his shirt up. Show-off. It wasn’t that hot in the evening, the weather was perfectly pleasant.

Well, Brandon should probably take issue with their flirting, right? If they were a real couple, he wouldn’t have let someone else flirt with his partner so shamelessly. In fact, it would probably be weird if he did not put an end to this.

“Wilson,” Brandon said. He paused, the name feeling weird on his tongue. He had never called his boss that, even in his thoughts. Never allowed himself.

Wilson turned his head, something like surprise flickering in his eyes. Maybe he was as startled by the use of his first name as Brandon was. “Yes?” he said.

Brandon brushed his fingers over the other man’s chest before slowly buttoning up his shirt. “You are being rude, babe,” he said sharply, trying to sound jealous. It was easy. Much easier than he had expected. Maybe his acting skills were better than he had thought. “You should have told this very nice woman that you are taken before she got her hopes up.”

The black eyes just gazed at him for a moment before Wilson’s lips curled a little. “There is no need to be jealous,” he said, leaning in and kissing him on the lips. It was a cautioning, brief kiss, perfectly appropriate for an informal dinner outdoors. But Brandon’s mind went utterly empty, with that horrible dizziness and pleasure racking all over him again. He parted his lips, his hands gripping Wilson’s shirt.

Please do not. Please do not stop. He was chasing Wilson’s mouth with his own, Brandon realized with a sinking feeling, but he could not stop. He needed— he needed—

He whined when Wilson pulled back. f*****g whined. It was mortifying.

Wilson studied him, his gaze was so very dark. Innocent. Brandon had never known what it meant to drown in someone’s eyes until that moment. It was not a pleasant feeling.

 Brandon could not breathe. He could not think. He could only look at him helplessly, dazed and lost.

Wilson grabbed Brandon's arm and practically dragged him away from the table.

Brandon let him, his mind hazy and his knees weak.

There was a small building nearby, some kind of relaxing spot used by the staff.

Wilson dragged him behind it.

He let go of Brandon’s arm and looked at Brandon with his black, sexy eyes.

The moment stretched, the tension was unbearable.

“Kneel,” he said, voice deep and low.

As if in a dream, Brandon dropped to his knees.

He sucked him off right there, not giving a damn that they were just a few feet away from other people. All he wanted was this c**k in his mouth, the heady, musky taste of it, the feel of it, the thickness stretching his lips.

Fuck, it felt so good, the hands in his hair, bossy and demanding, the c**k moving in his mouth. It felt just right. But he wanted more.

As though hearing his thoughts, Wilson started thrusting, f*****g his mouth in earnest. Brandon moaned around the c**k and fumbled with his own fly. Pulling out his own erection, he stroked it, hard and fast, while his 'man' used his mouth.

“Look at you,” Wilson said huskily. “You have wanted this for a long time, yet, you kept denying us both the pleasure.”

The filthy words caused a horrible mix of arousal and passion, and Brandon came, moaning around the c**k in him. Wilson groaned and slammed his c**k against his throat a few times before spilling deep into it. Brandon swallowed greedily, every single drop. And he wanted more.

What the f**k! What had this man turned him into?

***********

Brandon was mortified and just wanted the ground to swallow him up. He couldn’t look Jacob in the eye when he went downstairs for breakfast. He had been so eager to escape the bedroom before Wilson could wake up that he hadn’t considered that he’d have to face people who saw them leave yesterday and likely could guess what they had been doing behind the small building. He thought that he could very well stay in control, but that wasn't the vase. He went bitching at the slightest opportunity he got. What a way to go, Brandon Daniel! Britney would be disappointed by Brandon's lack of willpower. f**k, he’d never felt so embarrassed in his life.

Thankfully, it was just Jacob in the breakfast room. “Everyone else is probably dealing with their hangover,” Jacob said, answering his unasked question. “Aldo doesn’t drink, but he likes sleeping in when he doesn’t have to get up. I kept him up half the night.” Jacob smiled, a knowing look appearing on his face. “You’ve probably been up for a while, too, right?”

Ugh. Brandon now understood the expression about wanting the ground to open up and swallow you, and he fervently wished for just that the more. “Yeah,” he said with a forced smile. How could he say that they weren’t like that, that what happened yesterday hadn’t been supposed to happen—again? How could he say that Wilson Edward just had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad effect on his body and brain? That he had sucked Brandon's self-esteem and rational thoughts right through his mouth, like some kind of denominator?

“You look well-rested, though,” Jacob said, changing the subject, to Brandon’s relief. “You like it here?”

Brandon nodded and tucked in. He did feel well-rested. To his surprise, he’d fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow yesterday, and he slept like a baby. It must have been the air. In fact, he had slept so well that he’d woken up with his face draped against Wilson’s bare chest. Clearly, his sleeping self was an i***t with no sense of self-preservation.

“It’s lovely here,” he said honestly when the silence stretched. Before he could say anything else, Wilson walked into the room, his eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep.

Brandon pressed his lips together; even his ears turned hot. Kneel, Wilson’s low, commanding voice sounded in his head. f**k, he couldn’t believe he’d done it, just like that. He was indeed Wilson's b***h.

“Morning,” he forced out since it would be strange if he didn’t say anything.

“Good morning,” Jacob said, too, looking at Wilson curiously.

Wilson didn’t even look at him, his sleepy gaze fixed on Brandon. “My coffee,” he stated.

Brandon glared at him. Had he forgotten that they weren’t at the office? “Get it yourself, babe,” he said with his sweetest smile.

Dark eyes blinked slowly before their owner must have realized that this attitude was inappropriate in front of their captive audience. “It always tastes better when you make it,” he said.

Brandon nearly snorted. Nice save. But he did get up and walk to the table by the wall. It had everything anyone would need to make coffee just the way they wanted it.

“Do you need help?” a maid asked him in a sweet manner. Brandon shook his head. He didn’t bother telling the girl that Wilson was a grumpy d**k in the morning and liked his coffee to be made in a very particular way. Brandon didn’t trust her to get it right. By the time he returned with Wilson’s coffee, Aldo Massimo had joined them. Wilson accepted the coffee without as much as a glance at Brandon, his attention on Aldo. They were talking business, so Brandon went back to his seat and tried not to scowl into his own coffee.

“You’re very comfortable with each other already,” Jacob said in a quiet voice, stirring his tea. “But if you want his attention, ask for it. Aldo can get ridiculously busy and distracted by his work, too. The key is not to let work dominate your life.”

Brandon sipped his coffee. “I don’t want his attention,” he said. He didn’t. The look Jacob shot him was so sceptical that Brandon wished he could tell the guy that their supposed relationship was totally fake and having

Wilson’s attention was the worst thing anyone could wish for. He said neither of those things.

“Don’t want to be too clingy?” Jacob said with an understanding look. “I don’t think he minds. You were the first thing he looked at when he entered the room. I’m not sure if he even noticed me.”

Brandon almost choked on his coffee, marvelled at Jacob's poor observational skills.

“You make a lovely couple.” Jacob hesitated and then lowered his voice. “I honestly wasn’t sure about Aldo inviting Wilson here because of…”

Brandon looked back at him, curious. “Because of his family?” he said, just as quietly.

Jacob eyed him in an assessing manner. He must have found what he was looking for because he eventually replied, “Yes. You’ve probably heard the rumours about Aldo, right?”

Brandon nodded. “Wilson told me,” he said, managing not to trip over the name this time.

“That makes things easier, I guess,” Jacob said with a rueful smile.

“You were against inviting Wilson?”

“I was. It’s nothing personal, you understand. I just didn’t want to have anyone from Aldo’s past in our home—and that part of his life is in the past. But Aldo can be so stubborn. He eventually talked me into it.” He blushed slightly, and Brandon got a sneaking suspicion what “talking into it” entailed.

“Why?” Brandon said, looking at Jacob curiously. Hopefully, for once, his “kind face” would do its job and make Jacob confide in him.

Jacob chewed on his bottom lip, something hesitant about his expression. “Aldo has mostly shut down that side of his business,” he said, at last, his tone careful. “But an old… business partner in Italy is giving him trouble over it. He doesn’t understand that no means no.”

Some people can get greedy, especially when business was juicy. Illegal business for some people gave them thrills when they handled it. So sometimes, it gets difficult to disassociate yourself from such an ugly past.

Brandon frowned. “And why does he need Wilson? Because of his family connections? But he’s estranged from his family.”

His face flashing with a conspiratorial smile, Jacob said, “Is he, really?”

“Yes,” Brandon said carefully. “Don’t you know that his family refused to anything to do with him when he almost lost his life a decade ago?”

Amusement flashed in Jacob’s eyes. “That was very clever of him,” he said, glancing at Wilson. “Even Aldo thought the act was real. We know that it was staged only because we found about it when we went through my father’s files.”

Staged?

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Brandon said faintly.

Jacob peered at him before his eyes widened in something like bewilderment. “Oh, you really had no idea? I thought he’d tell you… You need to talk to him about it, then. Secrets are bad for a relationship.”

Brandon could only nod. He got to his feet, walked to Wilson, and touched his arm. “I need to talk to you.”