Dylan Ferrara is an academic wunderkind whose life just got a whole lot messier. After his academic career comes to a staggering halt, his best friends give him a reality check: join the ‘real world’ and start working, or continue chasing an impossible dream. Reluctantly, he agrees.
Remington Whitley is a billionaire who’s sick of the monotony of his playboy life. One day, his company invites a geeky little data scientist over for an interview. The man piques him enough on a personal level that he decides to take a gamble and invite Dylan out for a date.
Dylan is conflicted. Remy is a gamble in and of himself, and Dylan’s inexperience makes him cautious. Dylan doesn’t know if he wants to take the bet with such high stakes on the line.
But what can he do, when throwing the dice and leaving his fate up to luck feels so, so right?
There was just something about him. Dylan drew Remy’s attention like no one else had ever before. He had immaculate clothes, and his wavy black hair was tousled without really trying and looked incredibly soft to the touch. He had bright deep blue eyes, held wide as though he were in shock. Everything about him just screamed inexperience and naiveté.
Dylan had thick-framed glasses that were held up kind of wonky, which told Remy that the man before him only had one set of glasses and they’d probably been stepped on at one point in time. Remy almost licked his lips at wondering what was underneath this svelte man’s clothes….
Then the man cleared his throat. Oops, Remy thought sheepishly, he’d been caught staring. He moved toward the desk with all the grace and poise of a panther, sitting himself down with a right good plop and squeak onto his chair, and smirking at the uncomfortable-looking man in front of him.
“So. I’m Remington Whitley and I’m the CEO of Whitley Travels.” He stuffed his shirt back into his pants to attempt to look a little more decent, though he knew how disheveled he might have seemed. At least he made an attempt, though.
He also knew he could pull off a rumpled look quite well, which also explained the way the man’s cheeks turned pink and the way he looked away from him like he was trying very hard to be polite.
Remy extended a hand, offering one of his roguish smiles. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dylan nodded. His cheeks were tinged pink, but he extended his own hand and shook Remy’s as firmly as he could. “Mister Stanton sent me here. He told me you wanted to see me.”
Observant as he was, Remy saw every little nuance of a reaction on Dylan’s body. From the way he fidgeted in his seat, adjusting himself slightly, to the way he clasped his hands together and placed them on his lap, or the way he kept a tight hold of his bag—it was clear to Remy that he was maybe making Dylan a little discomfited.
That was a natural reaction to meeting any future boss, right? Remy shook his head. He glanced over at the folder in front of him, clearly labeled with the company’s logo and Dylan’s name typed on top, opened it, and scanned whatever document was there.
“Ah, yes. You’re our new hire. You’re the one we offered some contractual work to,” Remy said, nodding slowly. The smirk on his face only widened. “Really good grade point average, you were actually scouted by a couple of companies during your college graduation, including the Whitley Group, but you turned them down in lieu of going to graduate school.”
Dylan nodded and cleared his throat. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed and the pleasant, albeit discomfited smile only made Remy’s inner child giggle with glee.
Was his mere presence unnerving for the man in front of him?
The thought was enough to make Remy chuckle. It wasn’t like he was going to eat Dylan. Well, the thought of eating certain parts of him—and slurping, suckling on other parts—was definitely interesting enough. There was a little part of him that wanted to see if Dylan’s pink-cheeked expression would be the same in the bedroom.
“Well, everything is in the contract Doug gave you, although there are other perks and responsibilities that aren’t really part of your job. Some people might not consider it a benefit, but you’ll be directly under me,” Remy said, the corner of his lips curling upward in the slightest smirk.
Dylan’s eyes widened and he adjusted his glasses. “E-Excuse me?”
Remy chuckled, but then he nodded. “Oh, boy. I phrased that wrong, didn’t I? Well, you’ll work primarily under me. You don’t really fall under any of the current departments, so you’ll report to me. But I’ll make it clear now that you won’t be my assistant. I already have one of those.” Then he offered up a saucy little wink, trying to be as disarming as possible.
Dylan Ferrara was just so easy to read and play with. His earnestness felt refreshing.
“Don’t worry though. I’m not the type of boss who’ll ride you hard. That is, unless you want me to.”
Well, that was just a little too upfront with the double entendre, Remy thought to himself.
Frey Ortega writes erotic romance, primarily of the gay (both M/M and happy) variety, and basically anything that catches his whimsy. He lives in what a friend affectionately calls “the south-easternmost part of Spain,” which is an archipelago known as the Philippines. He’s a graduate of the University of Santo Tomas (the Royal, Pontifical, and Catholic University of the Philippines!) with a Bachelor of Science degree in Psychology. Also, he’s so excited to share his stories with all those willing to read them!
He loves writing about people, especially men of all different backgrounds, cultures, and nuanced personalities, falling in love. You might also find him playing video games from time to time! His favorite ones are MMORPGs, and role-playing games in general (and not just the ones in the bedroom.) If you happen to see him in a video game, come say hi!
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