Return on Investment by Voinov Aleksandr

Author:Voinov, Aleksandr [Voinov, Aleksandr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 44 Raccoons
Published: 2014-07-11T04:00:00+00:00

The phone rang in the late afternoon, while Martin was on top of Alec, and slowly moved on his cock. Martin tried to ignore the phone, but that was hard, because it didn’t stop ringing, and he didn’t want to stop this, either, because Alec was giving him a very nice hand job.

“Fuck it.” Martin glowered at the phone when it kept ringing, and Alec underneath him laughed, tonelessly. “Why now?”

“The likelihood of getting interrupted is in direct correlation with how often we fuck.” Alec used his best banker voice, and Martin groaned when the phone rang again.

“Fuck it. Don’t move.”

“Can’t—tied to the headboard.”

Martin reached over. “Yes!”

“Hi, Martin. Carsten said you were ill.” Francis. Understated, cool. Fuck. Being called on his bullshit when he pulled a sicky.

“I’m— I just ate something funny.”

At which Alec’s chest vibrated with silent laughter.

“Are you well enough to come downstairs?”

“Why, are you . . .” Martin swallowed. “Are you here?”

“Yes. I’m at the bar.”

“Okay. Just a minute.” Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Later.” Martin put the phone down, it slipped from the receiver and he had to lean over to place it back. “Fuck.”

“Priceless.” Alec laughed. “So fuck me already and say hi to . . . ah!”

Martin gritted his teeth and moved harsh and fast, so hard in fact that Alec didn’t find enough breath to mock him.

They were both sweaty and panting afterwards, and shared the shower, where they kissed and touched, but Martin was now restless, and he quickly towelled himself down and slipped into t-shirt and jeans. “I need a good excuse.”

“You ate something funny?”

“What do I tell him?”

“Tell him you had a day off.”

“No. We don’t do holidays, not mid-deal.”

“Maybe that you have a callboy in your bed because he’s not fucking you often enough.”

“It was just once, and it was an accident.”

“Was it?” Alec grinned and began to dress.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll get myself a drink, too. Your boss doesn’t have to know I was the funny thing you ate. Relax.”

“Oh God. Okay. Shit.” Martin left the hotel room and headed downstairs. Francis would catch that he was freshly showered and shagged-out; his boss just read him too bloody well.

Francis sat at the bar. The laptop next to him was closed, its bag sat on the other stool, while Francis drank what looked like water. Then Martin saw the label of the bottle. Tonic water. He couldn’t stand the stuff.

“Good evening.”

Francis half-turned on the stool and gave him a nod and smile. “Good evening, Martin. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just surprised.” Martin sat down and ordered himself still water.

“I was planning to catch up with you about the deal. We haven’t had a chance to recently.”

“No. It’s all regulatory stuff. This is the most complex thing I’ve ever done.”

“After this, every other deal should look moderately easy.”

Martin gave a somewhat pained smile. He was still exhausted, and ever since Alec had arrived, the mental exhaustion was coupled with physical tiredness. “The cakes thing—that was a surprise.”

“I figured Carsten would like that cake.

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