About At the Office: A BDSM Story Collection
Author: Sean Michael
Word Count: 65500
Page Count (pdf): 151
ISBN: 978-1-988377-08-7
Date Published: July 3, 2016
Publisher: Sean Michael
Price: 5.99
Genre: Contemporary BDSM
Pairing: MM
Series name and number: n/a
Heat Rating: 
Summary:
They say all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, so it’s a good thing all the men in this collection of BDSM stories play as hard as they work.
At the Office brings together three BDSM stories that focus on working men. Opening with Office Hours, the anthology begins with tenure bound professor Thad Wells. When Thad literally runs into Jay, his head says no, his body says yes. Will his heart be safe as things heat up between them?
In Full Disclosure, Samuel needs a new personal assistant, but maybe new hire Jarrod is getting a little too personal. When Jarrod is sent in to investigate Samuel, he’s immediately attracted. Can he do his job and fulfill his own and Samuel’s fantasies at the same time?
Lastly, Working to Win finds power couple Jason and Bryan struggling. Together for six years, Jason and Bryan have lost their spark. Will some power play games at a winter cabin relight their fire?
Office Hours, Full Disclosure, and Working to Win were all previously published as individual stories by Amber Quill Press and are also currently available individually.
Excerpt:
From Office Hours:
“Professor Wells? I need to speak with you about my paper.”
He kept walking, heading for his appointment with a cold beer, a Valium, and bed. He fucking hated the beginning of a semester, when everyone still believed they could break the rules. Especially these days. Christ. “My office hours are Tuesday and Thursday, one to two-thirty.”
“I have a class then.”
He shrugged. Not his problem. “Talk to the TA, then. He’ll help you out.”
The kid sighed, the sound frustrated. “I need your opinion.”
He graced the kid with a look. “Obviously I gave it to you. You have a grade.”
The look back was his mistake; he walked right into someone tall and solid enough that he went sprawling back on his ass, butt skidding on the crunchiness of the autumn grass.
“Shit! Are you okay?” A good-looking, clean-cut face leaned over him, green eyes concerned.
He blinked for a second, then hauled himself, his bag, and his pride up. “Of course. Excuse me.”
At least that scared off the questioner.
“Sorry about that, man. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.” The guy grabbed a phone and a pile of books up before batting at him. “God, you’re covered in grass.”
“It’s fine. I was headed out.” He was not going to snarl. Not.
“Yeah, it’s Friday, isn’t it?”
He got a warm grin. The smile made the man even more good-looking, crinkles appearing at either side of the pretty eyes. The guy was a little older than most students, now that he’d gotten a better look.
“Was on my way to the pub, actually, looking for a beer to celebrate the beginning of the weekend.”
“Have a good time, son.” He nodded once, refusing to pay attention. He didn’t need any bigger of a target painted on his ass, thank you very much. No noticing pretty students. No way, no how. Not with the scandal just really dying down.
“Whoa! Hold on just a second there. Son?” The guy laughed. “No fucking way are you old enough to be calling me son. Unless you’ve got one of those pictures in your attic. Or was that a heart under the floorboards? I can never remember which.”
“The Picture of Dorian Gray, and not the last time I checked, which, honestly, hasn’t been that long.” He’d been up there setting mouse traps just this summer.
“You’ve actually got an attic? Too cool.”
“I do. Stores the Christmas tree, the dead bodies.” Was he actually standing and talking to this man? Seriously?
Those green eyes stared at him for a moment, definitely nonplussed, then the corner of the guy’s mouth twitched and those eyes just twinkled. The twitch turned into a laugh and the sound settled right in his belly. “Oh, damn, that was a good one.”
Thad winked, telling himself, very firmly that he was not flirting with Mr. Pretty. Not. Not not not. “Thanks.”
“Hey, you want to go to the Corner Pub with me?”
He blinked. “You don’t know who I am, do you? I guarantee you, I’m bad for your career, but thanks.”
“Well, no, but that’s what having a drink together is about, right? Getting to know each other. I assume you’re a prof.” Those lips twisted into a half-smile, this one self-deprecating. “Or are you one of those profs who won’t socialize with TAs?”
“I’m one of those assholes your professor tells you about. Dr. Wells?”
God knew he had a reputation for being a bastard, and it worked for him. He needed that distance. It was hard enough, being the youngest professor in a world without tenure. Being the youngest professor with a damned good grant that he’d gotten for breaking the rules and thinking outside the box was deadly. Add that to one hell of a vicious ex, a tenured professor who assured his shit didn’t stink by spraying the new guys with accusations, and a public embarrassment involving said ex and professor in the same room and, well, he just wasn’t good company.
The guy looked at him blankly for a moment and then went a little pink. “I’m sorry. I don’t recognize the name. I’m in science, though, and we can have blinders on sometimes.” He held out his hand. “I’m Jay Banner. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Wells.”
“Good evening, Jay.” That was actually refreshing, to be anonymous. “I’m Thad, then.”
From Full Disclosure:
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
Samuel bit back his sigh. Damn it. He didn’t need this right now. He had a presentation due to the partners in three days, a major case heading to court in four weeks, and he was in the middle of a move.
“Jeannie. Is it an issue of money? I’m more than willing to discuss a salary bump.”
Those pretty blue eyes welled with tears, perfectly coiffed blonde hair not moving an inch as she shook her head. “No. No, I told you. Rick and I are finally pregnant and the doctor says I have to quit right now.”
Fuck.
Just fuck.
“Okay. Not even two weeks’ notice, huh?” He smiled over at her, trying to stem the flow of tears. “I don’t suppose you can work from bed?”
If someone had told him ten years ago that the hardest part of being a senior partner at Bailey, Billings, Haring and Weir was going to be keeping admin staff, he’d have laughed.
Three years in this big steel and chrome office with its own bathroom and little wet bar, three years of being a biggie-wow and he was about to start looking for admin assistant number five. Damn it. He liked Jeannie.
“You’ll be fine. You will. HR knows how busy you are, how important, they’ll get you someone.” She stood, held out one hand. “You…you take care of yourself, won’t you? You…you work so hard.”
Right. Like he couldn’t work hard now.
“All your files are accessible and the presentation for tomorrow is—”
“Right where you need them. I’ve even backed everything up. Karen has been working with me on the Riker case, so she’ll be the one you go to.”
Oh, shit. Which one was Karen? He nodded to the chair and grabbed a pen without shaking her hand. “You can give me an hour, Jeannie. Now, tell me, which one is—”
“Karen. Tall, looks like a Lithuanian weightlifter with an anger management problem.”
“Right. Now, tell me about where the Riker deps are right this second.”
He started scribbling furiously as Jeannie sat back down. Maybe he could just keep talking until she went into labor…
***
Jarrod adjusted his tie, cursing his choice in going with the dove grey suit. Sure it looked good on him, but the only tie he had that really popped with it was a light pink one—a thin light pink one—and he could never get the thing to lie just right no matter how many times he adjusted it.
He slid his hand down its length again and then went over the file he’d been given on Samuel Cavanaugh to distract himself.
Thirty-three, a graduate from SMU at the top of his class, great references, had been with BBH&W for ten years, a partner for the last three. There was no reason to believe the man was selling inside information, except that someone was, and the culprit had been narrowed down to three people.
Jarrod had been assigned to Samuel Cavanaugh to find out if he was the traitor.
The elevator dinged softly and he got off, along with several women in high heels and business suits. He stopped one and asked for directions to Mr. Cavanaugh’s office.
She gave him an appreciative once-over and smiled. “It’s at the far end of the hall. The big office in the corner—you can’t miss it! His assistant left so you’ll have to knock on the door and announce yourself. Unless you’d like me to take you…”
“No, I think I can manage just fine, but thank you very much.”
He smiled and nodded, made sure he looked friendly. The other assistants would be a great resource. He’d have to remember that and make sure he did lunch with them regularly. He’d also have to remember not to question them like he was cross-examining them.
The door to Cavanaugh’s office was slightly ajar, so he knocked sharply on it, and pushed it open the rest of the way.
The first thing he saw was a mass of dark auburn curls, carefully shaved on the sides and back, but uncontrolled and metallic and back lit as Cavanaugh bent over a laptop. Then bright blue-grey eyes looked at him through black-rimmed glasses. “Can I help you?”
Oh wow. He’d known Cavanaugh was a good-looking guy, he’d seen the man’s HR file, after all, but what the photo couldn’t show was Cavanaugh’s presence. Strong and in charge, that’s what Cavanaugh’s whole attitude radiated. And it just made the strong, square-jawed face that much more handsome.
From Working to Win:
Jason followed the directions they’d been given, turning onto a small road that looked like it had been recently cleared.
“ETA five minutes if these directions are right,” he told Bryan, not looking at his lover.
Four-day weekend. Six years together and it all boiled down to four days. If they couldn’t…he didn’t know…rekindle the spark? Well, if they couldn’t do that, they’d just go their own ways. So far they were off to a great start—not. Bryan was sending emails and running through files on his laptop, had been since they’d gotten into the car, and it made Jason want to scream.
“Cool.” Bryan’s face was pinched, lips tight, eyes squinting as he stared at his computer.
Jason gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white.
They turned onto a rocky road and Bryan shut his laptop with a click. “There.”
“There?” He shot Bryan a glance, but they went over a bump and he had to focus back on the road.
“I got everything done.”
“As in ‘you’re turning the laptop off for good’?” He didn’t know if he could believe that.
“You said you wanted the weekend.”
“No. We agreed that we needed the weekend. Four days with no work, no interruptions, just you and me.”
If Bryan wasn’t willing to give this a chance, they weren’t going to resolve or rekindle anything.
“Yeah.” Bryan nodded, fastening up his coat.
God, sometimes Jason just wanted to tear the clothes off his unflappable lover and rough him up a little. Or a lot.
All Bryan did was work—fourteen hours a day at the office, then more at home. Not that Jason could say much. He was working himself to death, literally.
The recession had been hard on his family-owned granola company and it had been a close thing—they’d nearly lost the whole place. It would have killed him to have to shut down, to put all those people—most of whom he’d known since he was a boy—out of work.
So between the two of them, he and Bry barely even had a few hours in bed asleep together. They were like strangers. Wealthy, hard-working, exhausted strangers.
Frankly, when they got to the cabin, he was taking a nap. Then he wanted to wake up next to his lover. When was the last time they’d actually done that? Woken up together, shared kisses and touching? God. They were a pair. A sad-sack sorry pair.
Jason pulled up in front of the cabin. It was like a fucking postcard, out in the middle of nowhere, everything covered in white.
“It’s lovely.” Bryan took a picture with his phone, then he slipped out of the car and grabbed his briefcase and headed for the suitcases in the trunk.
“Here’s the key. I’ll get the bags.” He grabbed their cases, and slammed the trunk closed before following Bryan up the stairs.
Bryan got the door open and headed for the thermostat before heading out. “I’ll get the groceries.”
Jason brought their cases into the bedroom. Oh, damn that’s a great bed. A nice four-poster. He put their suitcases in the corner and headed back to see if Bryan needed help getting the food into cupboards and the fridge.
Bryan had already put everything away and was headed outside. “I’ll bring in wood.”
“Man on a mission.” To not be alone with him. This weekend was looking more and more like a losing proposition.
“It feels like snow.”
“I hope so.” Jason would love to get snowed in. Nothing to do but be together.
“I’ll be right back.” Bryan headed outside, hood pulled up. The sky was dark for the afternoon, almost velvety.
Jason put a couple of beers in the fridge so they’d cool, then grabbed the milk and looked for the hot chocolate mix. Finding it, he put some milk in a saucepan and started heating it for hot chocolate.
The sound of wood filling the wood box startled him. It seemed weird, thinking of his perfectly composed, classy lover carrying and stacking wood.
God, what was he going to do? He’d been in love with Bryan for years. He needed this long weekend to work.
By the time the hot chocolate was done, Bryan was back in and working on getting a fire going.
He headed into the living room, a mug in each hand. “Hot chocolate with marshmallow floaters.”
“Please. It’s nippy.”
“It’s ready.” He sat on the couch as the fire flared into life. “Way to go.”
“Thanks.” Bryan got everything settled, then stood and took off his coat and hung it up.
“Come sit.” He held the mug up to Bryan.
Bryan sat, hands wrapping around the cup, and drank deeply.
Jason drank more slowly, watching his lover. “When we’re done here, I think we should go take a nap. It’s been a long time since either of us has had a decent night’s sleep.”
“Do you think the fire will be okay?”
“It should be fine with the grate over it.”
“Okay.” Bryan nodded, staring into the cup.
“You looking forward to our weekend?” Jason asked, needing connection, attention.
“I’m looking forward to spending time with you.”
Jason smiled, felt it honestly pull up the corners of his mouth. “Me, too. Spending time with you, I mean.”
Bryan finished his cocoa and headed to rinse out his cup and the pot.
Jason followed, watching his lover. “Okay, babe. Let’s go get a nap, okay?”
“I’m going to clean up and watch the fire a few. I’ll be in.”
Watch the fire and check emails no doubt.
Jason shook his head. “No, we’re going to go nap together, even if I have to tie you down to get you to stay in bed.”
Bryan’s near black eyes flashed over to him, one eyebrow arching. There was sudden, sharp heat, the air electric.
No way. No fucking way.
Jason had been into the scene before he’d taken over the factory for his father. He just hadn’t had the time after that. So it had never, ever come up with Bryan. His straight-laced, buttoned-up lover.
Holding Bryan’s gaze, he tested the waters. “I might just tie you up anyway.”
“You’re adorable.” Bryan looked away, cheeks heating.