With smooth, economic thrusts, he drew back and plunged in, slowly building the pace, dragging over his husband’s gland. The heat and friction were indescribable. Sweat dewed his back and chest, and Rohan’s smooth skin grew damp as well. He bit his bottom lip, and Adler lunged down to kiss and soothe the tiny abuse.

  Rohan nipped back, his eyes wild with passion, and Adler gave him a fierce smirk. Cum boiled in his balls, but he hung on until Rohan issued another strangled sound and trembled and groaned through an orgasm.

  Cum coated their bellies, and the unmistakable scent of sex filled Adler’s senses. His pace faltered with the increased grip on his cock, and he slammed into Rohan once more before releasing. His vision whited out, and he gasped against the pleasure.

  His husband’s orgasm-sated features swam before his beleaguered gaze, but he caught the look Rohan gave him before his eyes closed. Adler pulled out, his strength undermined, and managed to deal with the condom before dropping down beside Rohan. That look had warmed him further.

  Rohan stretched his legs out, and Adler massaged his thighs, easing the muscles. “Okay?”

  “Better than okay. Fuck, I’m done.”

  Repressing a satisfied smile, he said, “It was fine.”

  “Yup.”

  Lifting his head with an effort, he touched his lips to Rohan’s sweaty temple, then killed the light.

  Chapter Five

  Rohan blinked awake, uncertain where he was before the events of the previous day crashed in. He touched his temple where Adler had pressed that tender kiss. He wasn’t kidding when he’d told the older man he was done. Fried. The hand-job had been fine, but he’d never been … possessed in such a manner before, and the resulting orgasm reflected his emotional upheaval. But the kiss had calmed him.

  As a start to this marriage, one he was resigned to—and yet not objecting to the obvious physical benefits—it was fairly momentous. He sighed and stretched to accommodate tender muscles and found he was smiling. Still conflicted, though.

  The sonorous breathing beside him changed, and Adler levered up on one elbow. “Morning.”

  Surveying that hard, handsome face with its dark hair and silvered temples next to him didn’t elicit the anxiety that it might. “Morning.”

  Adler swept the covers back and swung out of bed, comfortable in his own skin. He headed toward the bathroom, and Rohan tried to swallow with a dry mouth. His cock hardened from its semi, and he mentally chided himself. They couldn’t spend all their time having sex.

  He followed Adler and saw him in that luxurious shower. By the time he relieved himself, the older man was finished with his ablutions.

  “I left it running.”

  “Thanks,” Rohan hustled inside before Adler’s heated gaze.

  Adler called over the sound of the water. “Eggs okay?”

  “That’d be great. I’ll be right there.”

  By the time he was dressed, the smell of coffee emanated down the hall. He followed his nose and stopped dead in his tracks. His husband stood in front of the gas stove, his dress shirt and suit pants covered by a baker’s apron as he cracked eggs into a pan. Rohan’s belly clenched, and not from hunger.

  Glancing up, Adler said, “Grab a cup. I took a chance on sunny-side up.”

  “That’s fine. That way, and omelets are what I eat.”

  He poured coffee for himself and topped up Adler’s. They both took it black. Hearing toast popping up, he set his cup down and retrieved the bread, lightly buttering it.

  Adler flipped eggs onto a plate, and they sat at the breakfast bar. Adler said, “Quite the team. We work well together across the board.”

  Rohan nodded and filled his mouth. The domesticity felt odd yet right. Swallowing, he said, “How will it go? At work.”

  Adler sipped coffee. “Do you want an announcement?”

  “No.” He paused, trying to decipher the look that flitted over Adler’s face. “Maybe. I guess they should know, but it’ll create stuff.”

  With a raised brow, Adler asked, “Stuff?”

  “Implications. Favoritism. Like I said before.”

  “And that really matters to you?”

  He thought about it and supposed it actually didn’t. Adler’s company was composed of a variety of individuals, all highly skilled and competent at their jobs. They didn’t last if they weren’t. And while competition was sometimes fierce, Rohan was secure in himself. That didn’t mean others wouldn’t gossip and talk shit, but he wouldn’t be bothered. He didn’t think.

  “It could be awkward, but whatever. As long as I stay where I am,” he hastened to say.

  “We settled it last night.” Before the mind-blowing sex.

  He heard Adler’s thought, reading it in his eyes. “I just wanted to be sure.”

  The older man checked his phone. “The car will be here in five.”

  Finishing the last bite, Rohan stood and scooped their plates up, carrying them to the sink. Adler brought the cups and flicked the switch off on the complicated-looking coffee machine. They went downstairs in silence, with Rohan thinking fruitlessly of something to say.

  Adler spoke up. “Clear your schedule for a week as soon as you can. I’d like to head to someplace hot with ocean breezes.”

  He hadn’t taken a vacation since before the accident. The sound of one appealed, though he didn’t have much in savings. He refused to consider Adler’s money. “I can probably do that by early next week.”

  “Good. Let’s say Tuesday. A honeymoon.”

  Rohan clambered into the car after Adler. Honeymoon. He tasted the word, finding it sweet on his tongue.

  Adler focused on his phone on the drive to the office, clearly back in work mode. That suited Rohan, who had his own thoughts to work through. Though the desire to kiss his husband was dominating his thinking. He shivered at the recollection of Adler taking charge last night. Did he like it? He did, he decided, but maybe not all the time.

  They pulled up and disembarked—and met Terry McKinnon as they did so. His gaze flickered back and forth between them. Rohan let the speculation roll over him.

  “Adler. I sent you a copy of the Forsyth file,” McKinnon said, falling into step with them.

  “I only saw it this morning.”

  “Ah. I wondered why I hadn’t heard back.” He darted a glance at Rohan.

  “I was otherwise occupied yesterday.” Adler raised his left hand, the sunlight catching on the platinum ring. “Getting hitched.”

  They entered the building, with McKinnon falling back a bit, probably recovering from the announcement.

  At the elevators, Adler said, “Rohan and I married yesterday afternoon.”

  McKinnon’s mouth opened and shut. He finally said, “Congratulations.”

  Rohan found his voice as the elevator door closed and shot upward. “Thanks.”

  He stepped closer to his husband and placed a brief kiss on Adler’s lips. He stepped out as the door opened, calling back, “See you tonight.”

  The gossip mill would inform the entire staff and beyond in minutes, and he was okay with that. He pushed into his office and settled in for the day, hopefully finding work a welcome distraction.

  ****

  Adler watched Rohan’s retreating form with longing. No, not retreating. His boy, his husband, had staked his claim in front of the best person to disseminate the news of their nuptials. Maybe he didn’t feel as muscled into their marriage, though Adler knew that was wishful thinking.

  He yanked himself from his thoughts, aware McKinnon was watching. “I’ll get back to you on the deal, Terry.”

  “Great. So, Ferris, huh? Married. Wow.”

  Adler lifted a brow. “Wow, indeed.” He headed toward his office, leaving the other man to mull that over.

  Patricia smiled at his entry and handed over a few files. Most everything else had come electronically, but certain things were easier to deal with on paper.

  He thanked her and said, “Before the gossip train arrives, Rohan and I got married yesterday.”

  Her serene face smiled wider. “That’s wonderful. Do you want something here? A small celebration?”

  It struck him that she wasn’t surprised. He supposed he’d telegraphed his intense interest in Rohan to those closest to him. His assistant knew he hadn’t been with anyone for months once he’d accepted that trying to drive the longing away with random encounters wasn’t working. The Ferrises weren’t surprised either—

  Patricia’s voice distracted him. “I suppose you’d like to talk it over with Rohan.”

  “I’ll do that.” He took his place at his desk and concentrated on the new deals in the offing. For precisely ten minutes.

  Tapping in Rohan’s extension, he waited for the familiar voice. “Rohan? Patricia asked if we wanted a small celebration.”

  Rohan paused. “What do you want?”

  He wanted to show his husband off and tell the world, but not especially his employees who he’d picked for their skill and not for their personalities. “I’d rather not.”

  “Then let’s go with that.”

  “We can invite who we choose to when your parents put something on for us.”

  “Deal.”

  The silence stretched out, and Adler wanted to laugh. Neither of them seemed willing to hang up first. “Let’s do lunch.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll come by at one?”

  “Here? You’re coming to my office?”

  “Rohan, I’m not really your boss anymore. Unless you enjoy a certain bossiness.”

  “I… See you at one.”

  The morning passed as he tried to focus, and he fielded a number of congratulatory, if speculative, calls. He gave no fucks what anyone thought and made certain others heard it clearly.

  One o’clock couldn’t come quickly enough, and he wasn’t sure he could wait until Tuesday for the honeymoon. Days away. Days too long.

  He picked Rohan up at the promised time, and they decided to walk the few blocks to a place they both favored, though he suspected Rohan only ate there when he took clients and had an expense account.

  Turned out, Rohan had received his share of phone calls, though many felt they could be far more inquisitive with him. “I told them I’d finally given in to the mutual attraction. And told a few to fuck off, if using civilized words.”

  “Good.” His right leg rested against Rohan’s under the table, and he relished the contact. He wished Rohan could have said they were madly in love, but he’d take what he could. “What are you having?”

  “Something with chicken. A salad. Aren’t you curious who said what?”

  “Not unless I need to deal with it.” He deliberated between a couple of dishes.

  “I think it’s dealt with.”

  They ordered and then discussed all manner of things between bites and swallows. He knew many of Rohan’s likes and dislikes in regard to food, knew the sports teams he followed, his politics, even was aware of his taste in music, but there was so much more to learn.

  He was aware Rohan was garnering information about him as they talked, and he was freer about himself than he’d been with anyone in a long time. Comfortable.

  “Where are we going next week?”

  “I thought the Abaco Islands. In the Bahamas. It’s quiet but has everything we’d need.” The flare in Rohan’s green eyes made him speculate. He asked, “How does that sound?”

  “Great. I think I’d like quiet.”

  “You’ll need the right clothes.” He passed a credit card over and held up a hand when he saw Rohan brace himself to protest. “I know where your salary goes. Can you accept this? From me? Your husband.”

  The usual standoff didn’t last as long this time. Rohan looked away and said, “Thanks.”

  “Want me to come along for the shopping?” He shifted in anticipation of Rohan’s perfect body in beach and island wear.

  Snorting, the younger man said, “No. I can only imagine what you’d put me in. You have a great style, but you’re not dressing me.”

  Suspecting Rohan was going to go as inexpensive as possible, Adler said, “Don’t sell yourself short. I don’t want to be disappointed.”

  His mouth set in a mutinous line, Rohan said, “We’d better get back. Or at least I should.”

  Adler nodded, figuring it wouldn’t always be smooth sailing but regretting the small altercation. He could have worded things better. They parted in the hall at Rohan’s door—no kiss this time.

  Chapter Six

  He’d almost—almost—forgotten the circumstance of this marriage, taking a secret enjoyment in those calls congratulating him and politely dissing the assholes. Thrilled when Adler called to take him to lunch, and enjoying the meal, too, and their conversation. He had felt he really knew the older man past the physical attraction.

  Good thing he was guarding his heart because the little episode with the credit card brought matters into focus. Disappoint! He shoved the memory of the frisson of excitement that had splintered through him at the hint of retribution if he disappointed Adler. It was all about meeting the other man’s standards. He had to look the part of the pretty boy.

  He scowled at the black card before shoving it in the desk drawer. There was work to do, work he hadn’t addressed while mooning all morning over the damn man he’d married.

  His phone rang—and his belly clenched. Adler? “Rohan Ferris.”

  “It’s Mom.”

  Disappointed, which pissed him off, he replied, “Hey. Is everything all right?”

  “We’re fine, dear. I wanted to know how you were.”

  “I’m good, Mom.” If annoyed with a certain gorgeous man.

  “How’s married life?”

  “The not quite twenty-four hours of it? Good.”

  She laughed. “You’ve pined after Adler for a long time. Always talking about him. Full of admiration for his fair business practices, considering the man makes money hand over fist. You always said he didn’t crush the little guy. And now you’re married to him.”

  Did he qualify as one of those little guys? Because Adler got his own way with him. As I did with Adler.

  Flinching away from his inner voice, he reminded himself it wasn’t the same. That was sex. He’d had to marry Adler or lose his job! He might have had fantasies about him, except the gap seemed too huge and risky before. Since dealing with McKinnon and other colleagues, a few clients, all those reservations had been swept away, at least where work was concerned. Okay, the marriage insulated him, whereas dating the man might not have done it.

  His mom was prattling on about a reception, and he was glad she had something to take her mind off other, less positive things. Well, if things fell apart as he anticipated, at least he wouldn’t have mentioned his softer feelings to Adler. Pride would be all he had then.

  “We’ll let you know soon,” he promised. “After a vacation.” Not calling it a honeymoon.

  That started her off again, and he provided what paltry details he had, not mentioning that he needed to dress the part so as not to disappoint his spouse.

  “You’re happy, son?” A hint of concern touched her voice.

  He’d never been able to hide much from his mother. Infusing as much positivity into his voice as possible, he assured her he was and got off the phone, hoping it worked.

  Six o’clock rolled around, and he stared glumly at all the unfinished business, then joined Adler at the man’s peremptory knock.

  “I had groceries delivered. I make a decent Fettucine carbonara.”

  Rohan found himself pouting like a teenager yet seemed powerless to stop it. He shrugged. Adler cast him the side-eye but said nothing. The trip home to Adler’s penthouse was made in silence on his part, and he told himself he didn’t care.

  Once inside, he headed for the master suite, wishing he had more changes of clothing, only to come up short. His cases were set neatly at the foot of the big bed, on the bench that sat there.

  “I asked your mother to pack up your room and had it delivered.” Adler’s deep voice sounded behind him.

  “You think of everything,” he shot back.

  His husband crowded him further into the room, and Rohan whirled to face him. “What?”

  “Do we have a problem?”

  “You’re taking charge of me!” Could he sound any whinier? He squared his shoulders. “I’ve been looking after myself for a long time.”

  “And everyone else.” Adler’s gaze was warm. Tender.

  “They’re my family. That’s what you do for people you love.”

  What appeared to be pain darkened those blue eyes, and Adler said, “So I’m coming to learn.”

  What does that mean? Rohan continued, “I don’t want to be like your pretty boys. That’s fine for some, but not me.”

  “You’re nothing like them.” The assertion, spoken quietly but with vehemence, fell between them.

  “Yet you don’t want me to disappoint you.”

  Adler tilted his head. “This is about the credit card?”

  “Maybe.” God, he sounded fourteen.

  The older man forked his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes before staring at him. “I didn’t want you to be concerned about spending money—because it’s mine. I wanted to do that small thing for you. If you want to unpack, I’ll work on the meal.”

  Feeling like shit, Rohan studied the empty doorway. It did come down to money. It got in the way. But he couldn’t get in too deep, aware of how he’d feel when Adler tired of him. Nothing more than a kept fancy boy. Yet it hurt him to see it bothered his husband, having his generosity thrown back in his face.

  He unpacked, sticking his things into conveniently empty drawers in the big dresser and hanging other items across from Adler’s clothing in the walk-in closet.

  After changing into sweats and a t-shirt, he made his way to the kitchen. Adler wore the apron again, wreathed in steam from a pasta pot. He was stirring something fragrant and looked edible himself.

  Rohan crossed the room and took the wooden spoon from his hand, balancing it across the pan. He closed the distance to Adler and kissed him in apology. “I’m sorry,” he muttered against his lips, “I’m not good at receiving.”