Heartsville 05 - Bloom Box (Cate Ashwood) (5 page)

He laughed sardonically to himself and pulled his glasses off with one hand, placing them on the desk in front of him as he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. He had to make this work. He had to. There was no other choice. There was so much riding on this, everything teetering on the first day. Their opening would set the tone for the business and it needed to go off without a hitch. He and Milo had spent the last few weeks getting everything ready. They’d planned it, they’d advertised—as much as they could in the short time they’d had to organize.

Will chastised himself for putting it off for so long. If only he’d managed to get his shit together sooner after Spencer had walked out. He’d have had more time to plan, to prepare. Maybe there wouldn’t be as much up in the air, so many unknowns. It made his head spin.

Everything was as ready as it could be, though. Everything they would need had been delivered, and Milo had put together the most stunning window display Will had ever seen. As they were heading into the rainy season, he hung umbrellas from the ceiling in rainbow colors, matching perfectly with the arrangements of flowers below. He managed to paint a picture with the petals, and the first time Will had seen it, he’d been speechless. Milo assured Will that everything would go off without a hitch, and although Milo had yet to let Will down, the apprehension was suffocating him.

Fraying his nerves even more than the looming opening of the business was the constant simmering of sexual tension between him and Milo for the last few weeks. For two days following the almost-kiss, things had been awkward, Milo a little sulky even, but slowly things seemed to return to the easy chemistry they’d shared before Will had come inches away from knowing what Milo tasted like. At least, Will thought it had.

There was something there, though, rumbling below the surface. He couldn’t go back to the peaceful ignorance he’d held before that moment. He imagined how Milo’s body felt against his, how good it would be to have Milo’s hands on him, and he knew exactly how Milo looked half-undressed and wanting him. It was distracting and consumed most of his waking hours. And a good portion of his sleeping hours, if he was being honest.

Just don’t think about it
, Will thought to himself. As if that was possible.

It was becoming difficult to think of anything else. As the days wore on and Milo became more and more comfortable in Will’s presence, the physical touching escalated. Will knew Milo was doing it on purpose, the accidental touches, brushing past just a little too close, bending over in front of him. It was making Will insane, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, or that he was willing to do about it. At least not
with
Milo. Once Milo had gone home, the fantasies took over and there had been more than one night that Will had come apart with Milo’s name on his lips.

He shelved the thoughts for now, concentrating on the accounting summary. The budget was tight, and the unknown was what made Will the most nervous. There was no way to predict how much they would sell, but everything was riding on them doing well.

A soft knocking at the door pulled Will back out of the numbers blurring on the screen in front of him.

“Come in,” he said.

Milo appeared a moment later, stepping through the door into the small space.

“I’m all done downstairs, boss. Is there anything else you need from me before I go?” he asked.

“No, thank you. You’ve been great this week. Thank you for all your help. I really couldn’t have done any of this without you. I’d be in a much sorrier mess if you hadn’t walked into the shop that day.”

“Are you okay?” Milo asked, stepping closer.

Will gave a weak smile and nodded. “Just tired. It’s been a long few months.”

Milo nodded once and started forward, rounding the desk to stand behind Will. As he laid his hands down on Will’s shoulders, the warmth of his touch seeped into Will’s skin. He leaned into Milo’s hands, his head dropping forward, and Milo began working his fingers into Will’s tense muscles.

“You just need to relax a bit. Everything is going to be just fine. Let me take care of you for a while. Put every thought out of your mind and just concentrate on how I’m making you feel.”

Will closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. The way Milo touched him lit up every nerve ending, every synapse. Long-dormant parts of himself awoke, skittering to life under Milo’s deft hands.

“God, Milo, your hands are amazing. That feels so good.”

“It’s supposed to. Relax and let me take care of you,” Milo repeated. As though Will was capable of doing anything else in that moment. He was boneless, his insides liquid as Milo massaged him.

Milo spun his chair slowly around, and Will whimpered quietly at the loss. He heard Milo chuckle, and he opened his eyes just in time to see Milo climb into his lap.

“What are you—?”

“Just let me….”

Milo’s knees bracketed Will’s hips as he rested his weight comfortably on Will’s thighs. His hands slid up along Will’s arms to massage the tender muscles along the curve of his shoulders.

“Head back. Close your eyes,” Milo said, his voice rough and low.

Will blinked twice, a beat passing before the words sank in. He did as he was told, leaning his head against the back of the chair and letting his eyes fall shut. Milo ran his hands along Will’s shoulders, varying the pressure as he rubbed and kneaded. The more flesh Milo laid a hand on, the more tense Will became. Will could feel his temperature rising as drawing breath became more and more difficult. Heat pooled in his belly and his cock hardened.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, set to apologize, when the sight of Milo erased all thoughts from his mind.

Milo was biting his lip, his eyes wide, pupils blown, and the way he stared at Will made everything tip sideways, and slowly, almost so slowly Will thought he might have imagined it, Milo tilted his hips, grinding against him.

“Milo…,” Will started, with no idea how to finish the sentence.

He wanted desperately to put his hands on Milo, to feel every inch of skin, but he kept still, his fingers wrapped so tightly around the arm of the chair he thought for certain his fingerprints would be embedded there forever.

His hands were firmly in place, but his body betrayed him. As Milo hitched forward, Will’s hips tilted to meet him. One of them moaned, but Will couldn’t be sure who. He’d never been this turned on before, and they were both still fully clothed. This was wrong, but fuck if it didn’t feel like the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Without breaking eye contact, Milo leaned forward, resting his forehead against Will’s.

“Please… please, Will. Touch me,” Milo begged, his voice so quiet Will could barely hear him over the sound of the blood pounding in his ears. They were both moving together now, the friction and pressure anything but subtle.

Those words broke him, and Will couldn’t hold back. His hands flew to Milo’s ass, digging in and pulling Milo hard against him. Milo swore, his hips snapping forward, his breath ragged as Will captured his mouth in a rough kiss.

His mind and body both numbed and every cell in his body seemed to stretch forward, urging him to grasp, to take. He wanted Milo. He’d wanted him since the first moment he’d laid eyes on him, but this was wrong for so many reasons—he was sure of it—reasons that couldn’t quite seem to materialize in the seconds before his lips met Milo’s.

Will was instantly addicted. The taste of Milo, coffee and closeness and comfort, settled deep within him. Milo’s fingers curled in Will’s hair, and the desperate sounds he was making in the back of his throat had Will at the edge of restraint, barely holding it together. Milo’s lips were soft, opening for him, letting Will slide his tongue easily against Milo’s to take what he needed. He was drowning in sensation, the feeling of Milo’s mouth against his, his body sliding, trying to get impossibly closer.

He could feel Milo’s erection against his, and the sounds as Milo came pushed Will right past his breaking point. He followed Milo over, his orgasm slamming into him, slick wetness seeping through the fabric of his pants.

Milo collapsed forward, the heat of his breath against Will’s neck as they both tried to come back to themselves.

“That was….”

“Fucking awesome,” Milo supplied. “And we’re definitely going to do that again.”

“Milo, I—”

“If you’re going to tell me that I’m too young or you’re too old, or that it’s an abuse of power or some other bullshit, you can just save it,” Milo said, climbing off Will’s lap. His words were assertive, but there was no heat behind them.

“Okay.” It was all he could come up with. Milo already knew him too well. That had been exactly what he was going to say. But he was selfish too. As much as he knew he shouldn’t, he did want to do it again. Without clothes next time. As amazing as getting off with Milo had been, cold jizz in the underwear was much less pleasant.

“I should get going,” Milo said. Will desperately wanted to stop him from leaving, to ask him to spend the night. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as caught up in someone else as he did in Milo, and in that instant he didn’t care about all the reasons why it wasn’t a good idea. All he knew was that he wanted him. Milo made him feel good, made him feel free, and he wanted to hold on to that for as long as he could.

“See you in the morning.”

And then Milo was gone and Will was alone.

The next morning, Milo showed up early toting a bag filled with muffins and donuts, as well as two very large coffees he’d picked up from the café. He placed the bag on the counter they’d installed in the back room for doing arrangements and general pruning before walking over and kissing Will squarely on the mouth. Apparently after the night before, there was no need for discussion. They were doing… well… whatever it was they were doing… whether Will wanted to or not.

And he did. He really, really,
really
did.

“You are a godsend,” Will said, opening the bag and peering inside. “You think of everything.”

“I thought of food. I always think of food. Food before everything… well… maybe not
everything
.” Milo waggled his eyebrows at Will, who felt the blush creep into his cheeks with the insinuation.

“Do I look okay?” Milo asked, changing the subject.

“You look great,” Will replied, meaning every word.

“So do you.” Milo stepped forward and slid his fingers along Will’s shoulders, slipping them under the collar of his shirt. “This just needs to be straightened a tad.”

Milo tugged at the collar and straightened it down, leaning forward slightly and rubbing the tip of his nose against Will’s in an Eskimo kiss. “Today is going to be awesome.”

His voice was low, the words spoken as though they were a secret passed between lovers, even though they were the only two in the building. The excitement that danced in Milo’s bright eyes was contagious, and Will felt the apprehension that had been knotted in his chest for weeks begin to loosen and melt away.

“It is. And when this is all over tonight, we’re going to celebrate.”

“Oh, are we?” The tone of mischief was back in Milo’s voice as he dropped his hands from Will’s collar.

“With champagne. I meant with champagne.”

“Champagne is an excellent start.”

Will knew exactly what Milo meant, and he found that the more he thought about it, the less resistant he was to the idea. After their… interlude the night before, things had shifted between them. He didn’t hate it. There was an unspoken understanding. He had no idea what it all meant, and God knew it could never lead anywhere, but Will felt so much lighter, and if embarking on something with Milo meant he could keep that feeling, then he was willing to do whatever it took.

One more steeling breath and the two of them walked from the back room into the main space. Will still had difficulty believing the transformation. From barren walls to warm shelves accented with ferns and moss, succulents and fig trees. Even the industrial-looking fridges were camouflaged with greenery draped over them, lending an almost ethereal look to the place. Deep browns and vibrant greens were everywhere, highlighted with pops of color from the cut flowers Milo had arranged into bouquets the day before. He had a knack for color and balance; it was something Will never could have managed even with a dozen how-to videos.

He could never have dreamed something like this up. This was all Milo, and he couldn’t have been more proud.

As the clock clicked closer to nine, Will’s nerves began to get the better of him.

“This is going to go well, isn’t it?” he asked, hating the uncertainty that came through.

“Definitely. Look at this place. It’s gorgeous. You’re going to be so busy you’ll be turning away business.”

“You did this, you know that, right? Without you, there would still be bland walls and plastic buckets of flowers, most of which would probably be dead, because I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned.”

The warmth in Milo’s smile made Will’s stomach flutter. “You’ll be a pro in no time. I’m sorry there wasn’t a lot of time to get comfortable with the merchandise before the opening, but I’m not going anywhere, so you’ve got as much help as you need for as long as you need it.”