Vesper Martinis: An MM Forbidden Romance by Aila Glass

Author:Aila Glass [Glass, Aila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Wesley

I wake up with the afternoon sun shining in my eyes and Pierce’s arm slung around my waist and my back against his chest. It’s warm and intimate, so I soak it in. In all likelihood, the second he wakes up, he’ll regret everything we just did.

I don’t blame him. In another world, this wouldn’t be complicated. In another world, I could confidently turn around and wake him up with soft kisses before going down on him, making him come, and then cuddling before going to get some food.

But we live in this world where he’s my boss. We got swept away in the heat of the moment of an apology that is now over. I’ve forgiven him. And now we’ll go our friendly ways, I suppose.

I feel Pierce absentmindedly rubbing his thumbs over my abs. I stay calm despite the excitement rushing through me. What I would give to be in that other world where things could be different and he wanted the same. For all I know, he just wanted to get laid.

The truth is, I don’t know him. I had a one-night stand with him six months ago. We’ve spent the last while not really liking each other, and now we’re okay, but that doesn’t always translate to romance.

I hear a sharp inhale from behind me, and Pierce pulls his arm away and turns onto his back.

I turn over and watch him rub his eyes with the back of his hand and stretch. The blanket heading down south reveals his perfect Adonis belt. His dick tents the blanket, and I resist the strong urge to touch it.

Fuck, why does this have to be so hard?

Pun not intended.

I sit up in bed, watching Pierce's face as he remembers where he is. He looks up at me, and I swear a smile pulls at his lips, but he stamps that down and sits up next to me.

“We fell asleep,” he says.

“Yeah,” I say nonchalantly as if this is a common occurrence.

He gives me one last look before shifting off the bed and looking for his clothes. It’s silent in my bedroom as he pulls on his pants and shirt. He sits on the edge of the bed as he ties his shoes, and the tension in the room is unnerving. There’s an elephant in the room, and no one wants to acknowledge it.

The question: What now?

I rub the back of my neck before scooting to the edge of the bed, the blanket covering my bottom half.

Pierce looks at me and, with a grin, says, “Yes?”

I chuckle, but with no humor attached to it. Just nervousness. I want and don’t want the answer to my question. But since I can’t stand things being up for interpretation. I want to know exactly where we stand. I ask.

“What are we going to do?” My question stops Pierce's movements for a moment.

He thinks about it for a few seconds before tying his other shoe.

“I don’t know. I know that I’m still your boss and that this relationship thing is… I’m just not sure about it yet.

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