“No. That sounds good. Pass it here, I’ll send it.”
Sacha nudged the iPad to Jonah. “Don’t pay. I already did.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“I’ll get the next one.”
“If you say so, Jonah Gray.”
“I do.” Jonah tapped the iPad a few times then set it down next to a laptop Sacha hadn’t noticed. It was a MacBook wrapped up in a Deadpool case. He grinned when he saw Sacha’s brows rise. “I have a thousand nieces and nephews. They gave me this for my birthday and said they’d cry if I didn’t use it.”
“You take that into meetings?”
“Of course. I have no interest in being bland. It’s not a good look for my company.”
“You couldn’t look bland if you tried.”
“That’s sweet,” Jonah said. “Is it wrong that I think the same of you right now when you’re clearly unfed and in need of a nap?”
“I do not need a nap. I need coffee and to see you naked again.”
“Before or after work?”
“I want to say before, but I think when you are naked again I will forget I have work at all.”
Jonah shook his head. “All this talk of me being naked. Are you fully clothed in this scenario?”
“Maybe,” Sacha hedged, ignoring the desire to feel Jonah’s skin against his for the split second he could bear to. “Perhaps I cannot wait long enough to strip.”
Jonah snorted. “As if. It was me who couldn’t wait last time. You drove me wild.”
“Good. I like wild Englishmen.”
“Hmm.” Jonah got up and abruptly left the room.
He returned with two mugs of strong coffee and passed one to Sacha. He set the other by his Deadpool laptop and Sacha took it to mean the fucking talk had passed.
Sacha reached for his own computer and opened it. The mess of code he’d abandoned filled the screen and he waited a moment to see if his eyes would hold up. They did, and it wasn’t long before he was immersed in his work again.
The buzz of Jonah’s intercom startled him sometime later.
“It’s the food.” Jonah got up. “I’ll get it.”
The evening seemed to be punctuated by Jonah leaving the room, Sacha missing him, then him returning with something else to make Sacha’s life brighter. This time it wasn’t just his lovely self, it was cardboard containers of Cantonese food.
Sacha took the chopsticks Jonah brandished and dug into a box of salty chicken noodles, laced with chilli, soy sauce, and ginger. Across from him, Jonah claimed a plastic fork and made short work of the fried rice.
Sacha couldn’t look away. “You’re sexy when you eat.”
“Says you using chopsticks like a pro.”
“It’s not hard.”
“I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t fancy throwing rice all over my laptop while I figure it out.”
“I can teach you.”