“And does he? Go home, I mean.”
“Of course. There is an idiot-shaped hole in the door at six o’clock sharp.”
Real irritation darkened Sacha’s features. It was dangerous, and sexy as hell. Jonah’s fingers itched to trace the frown lines on Sacha’s handsome face. To maybe smooth them away with his lips, then slide along his jaw, and to his mouth. They hadn’t kissed when they’d fucked. There’d been a few moments when Jonah had thought they might, but each time Sacha had pulled back and pressed his lips somewhere else, leaving Jonah waiting and wanting.
That hadn’t changed.
Stop. If he wanted to kiss you he’d have done it already. Put your keys in your pocket and go home.
Jonah didn’t move.
Sacha straightened, but didn’t step away either. He sank backwards into Jonah’s desk chair and fiddled with it until it was adjusted to his liking, his eyes dancing with challenge, as if daring Jonah to stop him.
Jonah didn’t. It was just a chair. Who cared if Sacha had moved every component beyond recognition? While Sacha was this close to him, not Jonah. It was hard to care about anything that wasn’t his heated gaze and addictive scent. “Do you want to go for a drink?”
The words were out before he could catch them.Damn it. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret them. Their second ever encounter had proved stilted and strange, but he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening in Sacha’s unique company, so much so that he laughed as Sacha began to shake his head. “Come on, Ivanov. It’s one drink. I’m not asking you to marry me. Or does one night of sex mean we can’t be friends?”
“You want to be my friend, Jonah Gray?”
“Maybe. Unless you don’t want to be mine.”
A beat of silence stretched between them. Jonah waited for Sacha to pull back and shake his head. To get up and walk away to wherever he’d been headed when the lift doors had opened downstairs, but Sacha didn’t shake his head. He didn’t say no.
He reached forward, gripped Jonah’s desk, and rolled forwards on Jonah’s chair until he was neatly inserted between Jonah’s legs. “I do not have many friends,” he said slowly. “I don’t need or want them. But…you and I, with benefits, no? I do not think I could spend time with you without fucking you again.”
Jonah’s eyebrows shot up. He felt them disappear into his hairline as he digested Sacha’s words.
His pulse banged against his eardrums, brain reeling from the abrupt shift in subject matter, despite the fact that he’d been thinking of Sacha fucking him non-stop since it had happened the first time. “You want to fuck me again? Thought you didn’t do second dates?”
“I don’t really do dates at all. But we would not call it that if you were my friend. We would just be hanging…out? Is that the phrase?”
“It’saphrase,” Jonah countered.
“A bad one?”
“No. Not at all. It’s unexpected, that’s all.”
Sacha nodded. “For me too. I never say this to anyone else.”
“What’s different about me?”
“We are from the same life. And you said yourself you don’t want to marry me, so I don’t have to worry about you misreading my intentions. You would know what we are…acquaintances who have sex, yes?”
“I didn’t say—” Jonah pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “Acquaintances. Right. Are you saying that we share an apathy for relationships? And that I’m rich enough in my own right that you don’t have to worry about me being after you for your money and status?”
Sacha laughed and it changed his face entirely. His features softened and his eyes shone. “I have no status in your world, but yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying. I feel safe with you, Jonah. We speak the same language.”
“About sex?”
“About many things. I do not have to explain myself to you. We can hang out and have sex. I would like that, and I think you would too.”
He wasn’t wrong. Jonah could think of nothing he’d rather do than spend his scant free time in Sacha’s company, especially if it revolved around them fucking again. But disquiet bloomed in his gut, a prickling sensation he’d never felt before, and it confused the hell out of him. He had no doubts about having sex with Sacha again—lordno—but the idea of a friendship that didn’t go anywhere or mean anything set his teeth on edge. “We don’t have to hang out,” he said. “We could just fuck and call it what it is. Don’t pander to my sensibilities.”
“‘Sensibilities’?”
“The terminology isn’t important. And I didn’t ask you for a drink because I wanted to fuck again.”
Sacha’s brow flickered with brief confusion before he schooled his features, but Jonah sensed the cogs turning in his brain all the same. “I do not understand.”