❝Morrison is my archenemy and he only dies with my hands wrapped around his neck...❞
Carl John Morrison has never met any man who surpasses Aiden Black. He's a stuck-up prick. Easy on the eye. A lethal weapon.
And Carl has a weakness for him.
A tr...
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Ch. 12: Feel it
The next time Carl saw Aiden, they were attending a takeover meeting in Vanity Silver’s main boardroom. A solid week after their shared romps of unexpected passion back at Aiden’s office.
“Mr. Black,” Carl acknowledged the man’s presence.
“Mr. Morrison,” Aiden greeted Carl in a business tone though his gaze lingered a little on the man’s lips as he licked them in an innocent act of moistening. Aiden proceeded to greet the board of directors of Vanity Silver together with the legal team from both parties in the overly air conditioned room.
The people in attending had eyes on stalks, observing the unusual scene unfolding before them. It’s not like they were oblivious to the two men’s alleged secret affair.
Social media and gossip tabloids had done quite an impressive piece of work in spreading the gospel of Carl’s hush-hush sexual relationship with the company’s public enemy number one.
To say that Janelle Morrison was far from being impressed that her son was sharing sheets with the enemy could’ve been an understatement of the century, the woman was furious beyond all reasonable doubt and that explained her absence in this current meeting.
“I hope I did not keep any of you waiting for too long,” Aiden’s voice was domineering as he swept his bright gray eyes athwart the room to get a glimpse of everyone’s facial expressions. He sure knew how to instill the fear of God in people around him, maybe that’s why he was Forbes eighth youngest self-made billionaire. Only if his parents were here to see him now… “Something important came up at the office that needed my immediate attention.”
Leave it to Aiden Black to show up forty-five minutes late for a scheduled meeting, and make it seem like it’s everyone else’s fault that they came in early. Carl felt obliged to scoff at that, which he did obviously.
“No problem,” one of the directors spoke softly like a kiss ass he was. “Since everyone is now here, I believe we can now start the meeting.”
If someone asked Carl what the meeting was all about he probably would have stammered out a response. A week ago at Aiden’s office, Carl had been in such a desperate rush to flee from the Iraqi as soon as things took up a turn.
Aiden was the only man he had ever thought of in a sexual way. He wasn’t actually gay but he could appreciate a good looking man without feeling his masculinity threatened or put to test (not that being gay made anyone any lesser of a man, but toxic society made it seem like it.)
Then there was Aiden Black, full-grown male looking like a sizzling erotic dream in the middle of a silent winter night. Carl wanted to embrace that kind of dream.
