Page 21 of Good Boy

"Here you go. Did you sleep okay?" she asked and handed me a cup of coffee.

I shrugged. "My throat was a little sore last night, but I slept okay."

Her brows furrowed in concern, and I turned my body away from Weston as I took a sip. The bitter coffee scorched my tongue, and I swallowed it down quickly to rid myself of the taste.

"Here, take this instead." Cynthia handed me another cup with two tea bags floating inside. "I added a lot of honey. You need something to coat your throat."

"It's already coated," Weston said, his words coming out in a sly whisper.

"What, sweetheart?" she asked before walking back to the other side of the kitchen.

He didn't answer, and gave me a side eye as I took a sip of the lemony flavored tea. We stood in silence, and I leaned into the kitchen counter, my eyes eating him up like some sex-crazed maniac. It wasn't like me to want, to need. I always fucked for fun, out of boredom, just to see how quickly I could make a tight-holed twink bend over for me. Then, once I was done using his hole, I would toss him like a piece of trash. I repeated the process over and over, making sure the only pulse in my body came from my cock and not my heart.

"Ready?" Weston asked and folded the newspaper in half.

I walked up behind him and placed my cup next to his. "Who still reads these?" I brushed my fingers over the thin paper.

Weston let out a breath and grabbed his leather satchel off the counter.

The elevator doors slid open with a ding, and I followed Weston inside, pressing into the corner as he jabbed at the button for the garage level. His eyes were glued to his phone, curse words spouting off under his breath as he looked at his calendar. I looked away, staring up at the floor numbers lighting up above the doors.

"You're going to need to start pulling your weight at the office. Standing around and looking pretty isn't an option." His words were sharp.

"Just because I sucked your cock doesn't mean you can boss me around now."

He raised a brow. "You're supposed to be trying to impress me. Remember?"

"I thought I did. Sorry, my gag reflex got in the way.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and rested my head on the wall.

He walked over, his hands taking hold of my tie, his lips inches from mine. "Don't test me, little shit."

The knot loosened and then re-tightened as he corrected the shitty attempt. I made this morning. The elevator came to a stop, and Weston strode out ahead of me without a backward glance. I took a breath, stilled myself, and then followed. We took a sharp left, passing by the doors where private drivers idled as they waited for their passengers.

"You drive?" The words left my lips before I could swallow them back down.

"Mm-hmm."

We stopped in front of an matte, all-black BMW coupe with tinted windows. I slid into the leather passenger seat, smoothing my hands over my thighs. The interior smelled new, all sleek black and grey with the faint scent of cedar. Weston got in beside me, dropping his phone into a holder on the dash before starting the engine with a roar. I eyed him as he adjusted his mirrors, gloved hands sure on the wheel. I'd never seen him drive before, and always assumed he considered it beneath him. The fact that he kept this hidden talent under wraps reminded me how little I truly knew about the man.

He placed a leather gloved hand on my thigh and squeezed. "Settle down, darlin', I'll feed you my cock again soon enough."

I looked away with a scowl, and he barked out a laugh. The garage doors opened in front of us with a creak, sunlight filtering in, and then we were moving, emerging onto the busy Chicago streets. I stared out the window as we drove, watching the city slide by. My gaze kept drifting to Weston though, taking in the sharp cut of his jaw and the way he handled the wheel. His gloves creaked as he shifted gears, and I swallowed hard, imagining those hands on my body again.

"Still looking?" he asked, amusement coloring his tone.

"Just admiring the view."

His lips quirked. “I bet you are.”

He grabbed my chin with the force of a vice grip, and I was frozen in place. His cobalt eyes burned into me as he scanned my expression. But I held his gaze, refusing to back down, even as heat licked through me.

After a moment, he released me with a snort. "Insolent brat."

I let a cocky smile grace my lips. "You like it."

Weston's hands tightened on the wheel, but he didn't deny it. We drove in silence for a few minutes, the air between us thick with tension.

When we hit a red light, he turned to me. "Take off your jacket." His tone brooked no argument.