FIERY HEAT [BoyxBoy]

CHAPTER 9: An explosive encounter...angry lust

Damon Reid vs. Tristan Thomas. Angry lust!

Pix on the side: An angry cocky TT, about to blow Damon's mind in the washroom.

Enjoy!

***

The next time Damon saw Tristan, it was at a meeting in his office. Four days after their last encounter. And it was all he could do not to draw him into his arms and damn** the consequence. There were bags under his eyes and he had lost weight but he still looked sexy as hell. Dressed in black jeans and white long sleeved designer T-shirt, with his aviator shades tucked into the V of his t-shirt, and leather cuffs on his wrists that matched his boots, he simply looked delicious. Casual. But that didn’t make him seem more relaxed. Tristan was strung tight as a bow, vibrating with tension and whatever else was eating at him. Damon could take a good guess.

Tristan was due in Paris in two days. They had to meet and agree on what was to take place in Paris. Caleb Thomas, the Architect and the Consultant for the Albatros project were also present at the meeting. Damon could barely concentrate on what was being discussed. He simply couldn’t tear his eyes off Tristan. Damn* he was hot. Tristan deliberately wouldn’t even meet his eye. He had never seen him all business like he was at that moment. Damon was so engrossed in the sexy man sitting at the table, he started when he heard the raised voices. What the f*ck was going on? Damon wondered. Obviously he had zonked out.

“Damon talk some sense into him.” Caleb Thomas said pointing at Tristan.

“No Dad. If I’m supposed to head this project, then you gentlemen must respect my opinion. I think the best thing to do is to start from the East wing and not the West. From these drawings, it will be our best shot. And that’s exactly what I’m going to ensure when I get to Paris.” His tone was stern, authoritative.

 “But we’ve already agreed to start from the West wing. Aren't we supposed to go by the plan?” Caleb Thomas sounded exasperated.

“Excuse me.” Tristan said standing to go out of the conference room.

“Damon?” Caleb looked imploringly at Damon.

With a sigh Damon pushed his chair back. “I’ll be right back.” He went after Tristan.

The guard on the floor pointed towards the restroom when Damon asked where Tristan had gone. Damon entered and heard the toilet flush just before Tristan came out, going to the wash basin to wash his hands. He didn’t even look in Damon’s direction though Damon knew he had seen him. God, he had missed him. And if his rapidly hardening c0ck was any indication, he had really missed him.

“What are you doing Tristan?” He asked quietly. “Explain what the f*ck just happened,” he added calmly.

Tristan ignored him. Damon stood with his arms straight by his sides. He felt everything in him, everything he was, go still as he took in the sight of Tristan. God, he was beautiful, and Damon couldn't look away. He was hard, so hard he ached.

"Tris." Only his name, but it was husky and rich and deep, filled with pain and longing and Tristan had to look at him.

His breadth hitched in his throat at the look of pure need on Damon’s face, his gaze so hot it did crazy things to Tristan’s heart. But arguments rushed through his mind. Every reason why Damon couldn’t be serious about him, how heartlessly he had treated him and the fact that he was obviously only good for one thing… Sex! Tristan saw red.

“Is the meeting being moved in here? If not, then get the hell out of my way.” Tristan started to dry his hands.

Damon abruptly turned on his heels and headed for the door. Tristan’s heart sunk. Just having Damon that close to him was giving him pleasurable flutters in his stomach. Now, he was walking away from him, when all he wanted was to go into his arms and hang on for dear life. Damn* his big mouth.