HIDE

EPISODE 23 - THE CONFERENCE ROOM (PRT2)

In any case, regardless of whether it was normal or not, the end result was the same. That was why Wilson didn’t do relationships: he didn’t want to reduce any woman to a depressed mess or maybe show the side of his father he had caged somewhere with him that his mother had to endure. After his previous attempt at a relationship ages ago, he had no delusions. He didn’t trust himself to be a better partner than Edward was.

But unlike his father, Wilson was compassionate, respectful and never laid his hand on any woman. Plus, he didn’t like having s*x with women he didn’t know. Although he always used condoms, he still liked the certainty that he wasn’t in danger of catching STDs. Which presented something of a problem, given his avoidance of relationships and refusal to pay for s*x. The “booty calls,” as his insolent PA called them, were a necessity: they were women he’d known for a while who wanted the same thing he did —frequent s*x with a skilled partner and nothing more. It was honest and mutually beneficial. It was a good way to deal with his libido without it ever becoming a serious problem. It was a good solution. Or rather, it had been. He didn’t want to call one of those women now.

He wanted his assistant—his very male assistant—to get on his knees and suck his c**k. The c**k in question twitched in his pants, and Wilson gritted his teeth, beyond aggravated.

It was his own damn fault. He should have never bullied Brandon into returning to work for him. He should have left him alone. But he was a creature of habit. He’d grown… used to Brandon and his insolent remarks and the way the boy could almost read his thoughts and wishes before Wilson even said them aloud. He had wanted him back because the sight of women at Brandon’s desk had only irritated him. So, he had wanted Brandon back, and he had gotten him back because he always got what he wanted. In that way, he was also his father’s son.

The thought made Wilson’s lips curl into a self-deprecating smile. Unfortunately, being aware of his faults did nothing to eliminate them. He had gotten Brandon back. He was back—but things still weren’t back to normal. His body seemed to think that “normal” should include having his assistant’s mouth around, he encouraged himself.

The whole thing with Brandon had started because he was bored, and it had been entertaining to watch the boy glare at him and swallow his cutting remarks in order not to get fired and win his ridiculous bet. It had amused him. Wilson had just wanted to anger Brandon enough to make him snap and give up. He hadn’t actually thought that Brandon would follow his orders and get him off—with his hand and then later with his mouth.

Wilson had always tried to be honest with himself. He wasn’t a very good man. He would be the first to admit that his moral compass was somewhat skewed, and he tended to treat people like things if he wasn’t careful. It had often been remarked that he lacked qualities like affection and human appreciation.

But he’d always drawn the line at having s*x with his employees. It wasn’t something he ever did. Frankly, he simply found it unappealing. What was the challenge in f*****g women who were too scared to say no? He could never be certain that they actually wanted him.

Brandon was different. He wasn’t scared of him. Or rather, of course, he had been scared of him—at first. But by the time the whole arrangement between them had started, Brandon had become too comfortable with him to truly be scared. He talked back. He used “sir” only when he felt like it. He grumbled and bitched if he found a task unpleasant until Wilson caved and assigned it to someone else. Brandon had been too soft with him, even before Wilson started sucking his c**k. He had felt different towards him.

His c**k twitched again. Wilson hissed in annoyance, shifting lower in his seat. He glanced around the conference room, but of course, no one had seen it because everyone avoided looking his way. Everyone but Brandon.

He was seated at the small desk to the side of the conference table. But he wasn’t taking notes. He was frowning, looking at Wilson.

Wilson glared at him, his irritation spiking when his gaze dropped to Brandon’s soft, full lips, slightly parted. It would be so easy to walk over, unzip his pants, and slide his c**k into that mouth, and damn everyone watching—

“I believe we have reached an agreement. You just need to sign the contract, and we are partners. That is, of course, if you don't have an opposition.”

Wilson shifted his gaze to the contract in front of him and skimmed it with his eyes, without even seeing it. He couldn’t f*****g focus, his c**k throbbing in his pants.

Someone handed him a pen.

“Please sign here.”

Wilson put the pen against the paper, ready to sign and get it over with when Brandon cleared his throat. Loudly. “Can I talk to you, sir?”

He turned his head to him. Everyone in the room did. It was a massive breach of protocol. Personal assistants weren’t supposed to interrupt important negotiations like these. Your deal was to stay invisible and take notes.

Brandon gave him a look that was between pleading and stubborn.

“Now?” Wilson said.

“Yes, sir. It won’t take more than a few minutes. It is a very critical issue.”