Work and Play Pt. 03

"We have made it a goal to not be disconnected from the consumers. No successful company shuts its customers out," Gabriel agrees.

"That's what I've always enjoyed about working here, too," someone else says. The five people who speak say relatively the same thing. Then it's a good ten seconds of silence. This meeting is awkward.

"I, for one, also grew up with this company," I blurt out. All the attention snaps my way. "Not in the way Mr. Ortega has... I just remember being in school, being at home... 'OrtegaTech's name on the printer I used or the computer monitor. The first cell phone I ever had was OTech... the microwave, the electric can opener everything." I take everyone's nodding as means to continue. "The products didn't overprice and you still ended up with great quality. I just know that I never took this company for granted, even when I was too young to understand it completely."

Everyone seems to agree, and I smile to myself.

"And what brand of phone do you have now, Mr. Hartigan?" Gabriel asks smugly. I know he's just teasing me, but I blush furiously anyway and can't conjure a single response. That's when I realize I'm at least eight plus years younger than everyone in this room, including Shannon. No matter what I say, I'm going to sound like the pretentious millennial in the room with big dreams that won't go anywhere. Playing out of my league. I've never felt this way before.

"Funny," I remark, trying to seem in high spirits as I pat the iPhone in my pocket.

The rest of the meeting consists of Gabriel asking what seems like rhetorical questions, but we trek through it anyway. I don't respond to any of his questions.

"Okay, now what we've all wanted to discuss," Gabriel sighs. "What we're looking for in a CEO. We want someone who appreciates this company, and also has dedicated time to making it better, be it through accomplishments, projects, or just actually being here. We recognize that you don't have to be here for a long time to make a difference or show devotion to this company, which is why we're shortening the preference to about three years. If you've been here for three years in an upper-level position, it shows that you at least hold that position for a reason."

It's as if someone reaches into my chest to stop my heart from beating. I've only been here for a year and a half, barely. I cross my legs to stop feeling the impending anxiety. I don't want to have an episode here.

Everyone else seems satisfied with the meeting, but I can't wait to get out of here. My life plans—completely crushed. I don't even have a chance of becoming CEO now.

The rest of Gabriel's speech is a slur to me.

Everyone leaves, and I'm one of the first one's out of the room.

-----

"You've been quiet," Shannon says as I search through my files to find a number for a branch we have in California. "Mind telling me or do I have to pry?"

"Pry all you want. I'm fine," I reply. Four hours after the meeting and the only thing reiterating in my head is 'three years, three years, three fucking years'.

"Can we have dinner tonight? Just wanted to talk to you. And Nathan wants to see you, too. Said he had a great time at your dinner party," she says. I nod.

"Grayson put me on a project but sure. When I'm done, I'll eat with you," I grumble. I find the number for a "Theresa Gardner" and write it down so I don't forget.

Three years. Three years.

"Hey, don't sweat about the three years thing," Shannon says after she closes my door almost like she's reading my mind. "I saw your face when Gabriel said that. It's just a preference. You can't stress about these things, Zeke. You'll go insane."

"Did you see the way everyone was looking at me in there? I can't say a damn thing without someone looking at me like I'm an idiot. Like I'm fresh out of college. I head up a commercial and nobody has said a thing about it besides you and Grayson," I go off. "If it ever got to it, I could pull this company out of bankruptcy single-handedly, and god forbid someone compliment the young, redheaded Nancy about it."

"Zeke—"

"Did you know people called me that?" I ask. Shannon sighs, looking at the floor. "I have a lot of work to do."

-----

It's just like me to drive halfway to my house before realizing I left my laptop and the number to the California back at the building. It's ten until eight o'clock. I think Sandy should still be there. She's a great lady.

The door is still unlocked. I don't suspect it will be for much longer. I rush upstairs as to not disturb the janitorial staff, on my way to gather my shit. I catch Sandy's eye; she gives me a small wave and a smile.

"You work too much, Zeke," she says with a chuckle.

"But you're doing the real work," I retort with a smile as the elevator door closes.

"I'm serious, kid," I hear her say. I roll my eyes. Not for long. They brought out people from California and Oregon and there's even a guy from New York who travelled to be here. As long as I'm the 'kid', the 'young guy', nobody's going to notice. I refuse to dumb myself down to meet some kind of criteria for "someone my age".

The floor is completely silent. The maintenance staff hasn't been here yet.

I rummage around in the dark for the items instead of turning on the lights. Don't want to cause any disturbances. I locate the items quickly, thank god, and notice that there's a light on in Grayson's office. He's never here late. He undoubtedly saw me come in. Better say hi before he whines about it.

"Knock knock," I say while drumming on the open door. Well, it's not Grayson. Gabriel turns around, looking surprised, if not guilty. "Oh..."

"Hello, Zeke," Gabriel says, retreating back to that overly-confident embouchure. "You're here late."

"Why are you in Grayson's office?" I ask, keeping myself at the door. I don't know how to feel about him at all. Lurking around in someone else's office after hours is weird and an invasion of privacy. How did he even get the keys?

"Taking a look around. He wants to move his office space upstairs... what are you doing here?" he asks, taking a step toward me. I stand my ground.

"Forgot something. I'm leaving now. I suggest you do, too," I say. And my voice cracks. I sound like a teenager. Gabriel shrugs in response, taking another step toward me.

"I didn't know you were applying for the Presidential position. You're very young—"

"I'm not applying anymore," I reply quickly. Gabriel seems a bit taken aback. "Haven't been here three years."

"Well, three years is just a preference, you know. It's not gospel; not set in stone. Plus, I'm sure your arrogance will take you somewhere at least," Gabriel says. I don't respond. "I'm teasing you."

"Yeah, hilarious. Making me look stupid in that meeting today. I love feeling embarrassed," I snap. "Organize a commercial by myself and I still get teased for being the 'arrogant' millennial. I understand your sense of humor SO well. You know what else was funny?" I set my laptop on Grayson's desk while I fold my arms, "The way you act like I'm not supposed to feel valid or something just because I was drunk two weeks ago. That's just—wow—it's fucking hilarious."

Gabriel does that thing where he stares at me without giving a response for an awkward amount of time until I inevitably blush full-on red. "What?! God."

"Nothing. I just make you feel insecure. I think that's fascinating. I bet nobody really makes you feel insecure, but I do. Why is that?" In the dim light, his dark features look even darker, yet his eyes stand out, like a wolf.

Gabriel doesn't even have a commanding stance at this point, but I feel like he's all around me. The goosebumps I have on my arms and neck aren't going away.

After I don't respond for a good fifteen seconds, Gabriel approaches me slowly, now only standing a foot in front of me. "You see, that is what happens when you think you're above everyone else. Someone comes along—" Gabriel takes my glasses off, setting them on Grayson's desk, "—with a little more insight—" he's within six inches from my face now, "—and knocks you off your little Harvard pedestal. And you don't have the slightest idea what to do about it."

"I work hard," I say lowly, not daring to look him in the eye. "I don't think I'm better than anyone else."

"Yes you do. Except me. You don't think you're better than me." Gabriel teases me, backing me up into the wall.

"You're an asshole," I breathe.

"I know. But I'm the only one telling you the truth."

Man, this was so easy when I was intoxicated. Gabriel obviously enjoyed himself, since he's the one initiating all of this. "Point taken," I grumble. "Now what."

Gabriel smirks, tilting my chin up. "Now you get over it."

My only regret is the fact that the first time this happened, I wasn't sober. All I can gather from my thoughts is the fact that he wants me, he actually wants me, and I don't know why. So far, he's a calm, smooth-talking pillar of masculinity with a superiority complex that most definitely works for him, and I'm his little psychology project. He thinks I haven't been broken down before, and so far, he's making some noticeable strides.

I stand still until Gabriel's hands are on my waist. I close my eyes when his lips are only an inch away from mine. "I do like you, though," he whispers.

Then he goes in softly, brushing his lips with mine before closing the distance. I close the door with a free hand before burrowing my fingers in his thick, dark coffee-brown hair and deepening the kiss. I taste his tongue, breathing deep through my nose. Every ounce of my body excites with the familiarity of his commanding nature.

Gabriel doesn't waste any time, sliding his big hands down to grab at my ass. We're close enough now that I can feel his heartbeat through his chest. My own heart races as I take in the musky smell combined with the sweetness of his mouth. His hands travel until one hand is feeling on my torso, touching my abs, and the other keeps a firm grip on my ass.

I don't know who starts taking off clothing first, but in no time, Gabriel's unbuttoning my vest and I'm struggling with his tie while he's licking filthily at my mouth. All at once, he yanks me to the ground with him so I straddle his lap.

For a while, we're not even kissing; just sucking the hot air between our mouths while I fucking roll my hips onto him. He gropes me roughly, spanking my ass through my dress pants and humping into me. I can already feel the hard tool in his pants against my ass. I shiver at the thought of experiencing him again. The glory of his nine-inch cock sets up a certain anticipation deep in my groin.

Gabriel cups the bulge in my pants, looking into my eyes as if he's trying to lock me in. The way we're sitting should be awkward, not to mention the fact that we've been making eye contact for a ridiculous amount of time. I let Gabriel manhandle me, feeling me up however he pleases while I simply moan and whine in response like an obedient, touch-starved amateur.

I feel like I know his body up and down already, yet every fiber in me craves to feel every inch. I realize that we've paused removing clothing, so in one swift motion, I undo his tie. My vest is off in seconds and Gabriel shoves me to the ground, where he starts impatiently tugging my pants down.

"There's a belt, you know," I chuckle. "And a button—"

"Shut up," Gabriel snaps, but he's not fooling me; I can see the blush rise to his cheeks. Gabriel is surprisingly patient with the belt, but I suppose the pants weren't worth saving; my waist to hip ratio is too much for the Kohl's dress pants, and the button pops off somewhere I'll never find it again.

"Because you have a big ass," Gabriel mumbles.

"You owe me a pair of pants," I snap.

"I'll make up for it," he huffs, taking a slap at my left ass-cheek. And just like that, I'm compliant again. "On your stomach," Gabriel demands. He kneads the cheeks before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. "Feel that?"

I nod my head. His cock is practically between my cheeks already, and he's still in his boxer briefs. Gabriel swipes my underwear down to my knees and reaches around to grab my dick. I didn't even think about my own leaking prick as he was touching me. It's like I do everything to satisfy him. A total contrast from my go-getter personality.

Gabriel humps against my bare ass while I stay on my hands and knees. I guess he's not craving a blow this time; he sticks his fingers in my mouth like last time, deep enough to make the average slut uncomfortable, but I graciously gag a little on the digits. He breaks his tough persona to ask if I'm alright. I nod.

Gabriel slides two fingers into me without warning, causing me to jerk and cry out. This time, he doesn't ask, just choosing to gently scissor his fingers open and closed.

"You wanna taste my cock? Hmm?" Gabriel asks before smacking my ass. I suppose I don't get off that easily. I remember that I was barely able to get over six inches of him in my mouth last time, and I hesitate to answer. "No? You don't?"

"Y-yeah. I just... I can't—"

Gabriel chuckles, turning me around to face him. "Don't overthink it," he whispers before kissing me. The outline of Gabriel's cock is intimidating in itself, not to mention his actual cock. I let out the slightly curved member and it stares me right in the face. My mouth waters at the sight of the thing, majestic and strong, going to stretch my tight hole and gag my throat again.

I close my eyes, taking him into my mouth slowly, relishing the salty taste and something purely Gabriel. I'm not saying I've sucked a LOT of cock in my 6 years of being "officially gay", but I must say Gabriel is truly unique. The taste, the thickness, the structure—he's like a prize, an achievement.

It's almost—dare I say—fatherly (ugh, pinching myself later) the way he handles me; his hand is commanding in my hair, but not forceful. I give special attention to the dark, fat head of his big Latino cock. As I make the attempt to deep-throat him, I feel his fingers enter my tight hole again. I'm moaning around his thick member while he fingers me open.

"I want to fuck you more than I want my cock in your mouth," he says. "But keep sucking." I suppose he's telling me not to try too hard, but I want to make him feel good. I want him to think of me as a good slut, a good boy.

My tongue trails up and down the glorious length. At one point, Gabriel smacks my cheeks with the thing, making me part my lips, desperately waiting for the opportunity to have him in my whore mouth again. "Tell me you want it," Gabriel growls.

"Let me—let me suck you," I breathe. I probably look like a whore, too. Lips gleaming with saliva and pre-cum, I look him in the eyes (best I can without my glasses) and suck on him hard. My reward is the curving of his fingers in my ass, so he brushes my prostate. I thought I was moaning around his cock BEFORE...

I know I shouldn't, but I want the whole thing in my mouth, down my fucking throat. I want it all; balls against my chin and my nose in the hilt. Slowly, I take him in, inch by inch.

I gag on him again, loudly this time as if I'm retching, and he pulls me off roughly by my thick red locks of hair. There's a long string of spit mixed with pre-cum connecting my mouth to Gabriel's cock. If THAT isn't one of the hottest things I've ever seen...

"Don't, Zeke," he warns. I simply smirk at him and he slaps my face, almost like he's putting me in check. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I'll leave that up to you," I giggle. Gabriel smacks me again, this time because I think he just likes doing it, and licks my lips before shoving his tongue in my mouth. I wonder if he can taste himself on my tongue.

We both stand up and Gabriel removes his pants completely. Gleaming cock sticking straight out at me, he pushes some of the items on Grayson's desk to create a space for me. I try to hold in my feelings about the situation, but I can't help it. I'm lying on my torso at this point while Gabriel barely sticks the tip of his dick in and out of my hole, but I'm losing it. I end up laughing and laughing hard before we get to business.

"What..." Gabriel says, voice monotone and unamused.

"We're gonna fuck on Grayson's desk," I laugh. "God—okay, sorry. Proceed."

"If you stop laughing," he warns. It's so mean of me, really. It's so fucked up. I tell Grayson I'm not ready to fuck anyone or be in a relationship, and now I'm going to fuck BOTH of our bosses on Grayson's desk. Oh, the irony.

Gabriel shuts me up quickly though. In one swift thrust, he's balls deep in my asshole. It hurts enough to get a pained whine out of me, but not enough to get me protesting. I haven't even fingered myself more than twice since our St. Patrick's Day escapade, and I didn't go near the dildo, so the watering of my eyes is justified.

Gabriel wastes no time, fucking in and out of me forcefully. I feel small again with his huge hands on my hips and powerful thighs smacking into my round ass, undoubtedly making it red and tender. The thick sound fills the air like music. I realize too late that anybody could look through the big window in Grayson's office and see Gabriel pounding into me. I see light from the elevator in the hallway and start to panic. "Gabriel—"

"Got it," he responds before I even say anything. Like last time, he picks me up with ease, all 170 something pounds of me, and we gently lower to the ground. Someone is definitely on this floor. A member of the maintenance crew, no doubt. Gabriel can see me panicking in my head, so he pulls out and turns me over.

"You think too much," he says. "Quiet your head." And with that, he grabs both my ankles and spreads my legs himself. In no time, he's pushing the big head of his cock past that ring of muscle. Every time he pushes in, I'm reminded of how big he is. Big, full balls slapping against my ass, he is in full control of my lower half.

One particular thrust makes my back arch, and I'm smacking my hand over my mouth as to not cry out too loudly. Gabriel smiles to himself like a smug sonofabitch, and like clockwork, he's hitting my sweet spot over and over again while I writhe like crazy. "Oh Gabe! Oh GABE! Fuuuuck yeah. Mmm—fuck!—hit me," I demand. All at once, he stops moving.

"...Hit you? Like... with my hands?" Gabriel says, almost innocently, tilting his head as if that's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. What an asswipe. He's looking at me like I just asked him to fuck my ass with a stapler. I didn't even know I was THAT into it until he smacked me two weeks ago. Give me a fucking break.

Nevertheless, his response causes an embarrassing blush to make its way toward my cheeks and I turn away from him. "I'm kidding. Zeke, I'm kidding."

"You're an asshole," I groan. "Pull out."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're just so easy to get to, I'm sorry," Gabriel says. And he fucking laughs at me like he didn't just make me feel like a gross pervert.

"Pull. Out. I'm done." I wipe sweat off my forehead and take a breather. Gabriel pulls out, but he holds me down by my hips. His hair falls in his face and he kisses my half-exposed torso. He licks my abs and slides his fingers inside me yet again. I stick my fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp while he latches his mouth onto my abdomen. I suppose I can be more forgiving.

Before long, Gabriel is fucking me hard, doggy style. My ass completely swallows him now, graciously accepting his slick, dense cock. I'm mumbling over and over again, 'fuck me, Gabe, fuck me'. He'll sometimes change the angle, so I can feel the curve of his thick cock sliding into me, absolutely filling up my ass.

At one point, he pulls out completely, leaving my ass empty and craving, before pushing back in and provoking the wet, hollow sounds from my ass that I only thought was possible in porn. God, is it fucking hot leaving me vulnerable and wide open before shoving himself back into me.