HIDE

EPISODE 10 - QUIT OR MAKE ME C**!

Wilson for once accepting that someone else was right was terrifying.

“I did need a release,” he said.

Brandon cleared his throat a little, hoping he didn’t look as weirded out as he felt. Hearing about s*x from Wilson made him so uncomfortable. How can the man be so released talking about it? He didn’t know why. They were both guys. Guys talked about s*x all the time, so often that it lost all meaning. And yet. Hearing it from Wilson … it was weird.

“Wow, so you actually admit that I was right about something?” Brandon said, trying not to show how uneasy he felt.

Wilson shrugged, leaning back in his chair and loosening his tie a little. His gaze was still fixed on Brandon in a manner that made him more nervous by the minute. “You did have a point: I am built a different way, and I am less tolerant and so edgy when I’m sexually frustrated.”

Brandon looked pointedly at the seat the directors had just vacated. “You weren’t very tolerant just now. Do you need to get laid again?”

Wilson smiled a little, but his eyes remained serious and contemplative. “Maybe I do.”

Sighing, Brandon pulled a face. “Do you want me to message one of your s*x slaves again? Natasha or Ashley? You hardly have any preference. I could just make the choice” f**k, this made him feel like a w***e too. How was this his job?

“That may not be necessary.”

Blinking, Brandon c****d his head in confusion.

“Come here.”

Slowly, Brandon got to his feet and approached his boss. Wilson was watching him carefully, his gaze too neutral not to make Brandon suspicious.

“I’ve realized that you may be more useful than I thought. You can take care of certain things for me. Assist me in every way as my assistant,” Wilson said, and there it was, the triumphant, amused glint in his eyes, impossible to hide now. “I don’t need to go through the trouble of finding time for meetings with women when I have my assistant right here.”

Brandon glared at him. Really? So, this was how the dickhead decided to punish him for not quitting at the sight of his c**k? They were playing the dare again?

“Sometimes it’s okay to be wrong, you know,” Brandon said. “No one can be right all the time, not even you.”

Wilson’s gaze remained steady on him. “Get on your knees,” he said softly, his eyes very dark and so damn satisfied, 

Brandon wanted to punch him. No. There were better ways to wipe that smug expression off Wilson’s face. The bastard expected him to explode. He thought this was something that would finally make Brandon angry enough to quit. He didn’t actually expect Brandon to follow the order. Edward Wilson was straight. He was so intrigued with women that this stupid game of his would stand as a mockery for him. He f****d more women in a month than Brandon had f****d in his entire life. The best way to outplay him was to do exactly as he said.

“Shouldn’t I lock the door first?” Brandon said in his most casual tone.

Wilson stared at him.

Hiding his triumphant smile, Brandon locked the door before returning to his boss and dropping to his knees in front of him.

“I hope hands are enough because I’m not sucking your c**k,” Brandon said, his confident tone probably at odds with the way his fingers were shaking as they unbuckled Wilson’s belt and unzipped his dark pants. It was just a c**k. Brandon had a c**k too. He could do it. He could.

The baffled expression on Wilson’s normally inscrutable face was the best motivation he could possibly have. It gave him the courage to finally pull his boss’s c**k out of his pants.

The c**k was mostly soft, but it quickly hardened as Brandon fondled it awkwardly. God, Wilson really was such a horny son-of-a-b***h. But f**k, this was the most awkward, the strangest thing he had ever done.

Brandon’s face was warm as he fondled and stroked his boss’s massive erection. God, the way it looked… A red, fat c**k straining out of Wilson’s unzipped fly, a drop of pre-come glistening on the tip… the fact that he could see his own fingers wrapped around that c**k… it was all so very degrading and so very real. Part of him couldn’t believe he was really doing it—jacking another man off—jacking Wilson off—but the other part just wanted to make him come. He wanted his boss to come. He couldn’t deny that holding Wilson’s hard c**k gave him a weird kind of rush. A rush of power. He made Wilson, a straight man, hard. He was making his asshole of a boss feel good, ruining his plan in the process.

Brandon lifted his gaze and found Wilson’s eyes closed. He was leaned back in his chair, his body language relaxed. Apparently, he had decided to close his eyes and just enjoy the hand job. He was probably imagining that it was a woman’s hand. The thought was incredibly annoying. No, he wouldn’t let the dickhead forget who was touching his c**k.

“Your c**k is really big,” Brandon said lightly. “I kind of thought you were lying about the condom size, but apparently there’s no justice in the world—”

“Quiet,” Wilson said, a flicker of irritation crossing his features.

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin. “It feels so massive in my hand, I can’t imagine women actually liking having this thing stuffed into them.”

A shudder went through Wilson’s body. “Tighter,” he ordered tersely, opening his eyes. “Hold it tighter. Don’t you know how to jerk off?”

“Figures that you’d criticize even my jerk-off skills,” Brandon grumbled, but he did as he was told, squeezing the thick c**k in his hand tighter.

Wilson sighed in annoyance and laid his hand-over Brandon’s, showing him the rhythm he liked. Brandon blushed. There was something about having both of their hands wrapped around Wilson’s c**k that was just… so filthy.

So wrong.

They stroked it together, fast and hard, the c**k becoming slick with pre-come, the wet sound of flesh against flesh getting improper in the silence of the room. Then Wilson hissed slightly, pushing up, thrusting, f*****g Brandon’s hand, and came. Brandon wasn’t sure what it said about him that his first instinct was to catch all the ejaculation in his hand so that Wilson’s shirt wasn’t ruined. Jesus, Wilson really had him well-trained. The thought was honestly horrifying. 

Quashing his unease, Brandon looked up into his boss’s dark eyes and said with a smile, “I’m the best damn assistant you’ve ever had. Excuse me, I need to wash my hands now.” He was still chuckling as he washed his hands in the restroom. He won this dare too.