Chapter 1

The board room was too hot: the air conditioning was on the highest setting as usual. Miki wondered why Ryder always did that. He’d been told it was so that visitors relaxed, imagining sunnier climates, warmer locations. Miki believed in that like he believed in the tooth fairy. He suspected Ryder actually intended to wrong-foot his business associates – to make them so uncomfortable that he did better in any negotiation; to disturb them, so they didn’t overstay their welcome.

Whatever the reason, the heating made Miki sweat more than usual.

His glance swept around the room, taking in the smart wooden panelling and the leather-upholstered chairs. Unusually old-fashioned for such a new, aggressive property company but that was a unique characteristic of Ryder Lifestyle Investments – an absolute commitment to a style that both attracted and comforted its city clients. The company knew where its market lay, and catered to it unashamedly.

Miki slipped off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair, and returned to the papers he’d spread out on the desk. It was already long past the end of the business day for the office staff: the corridors had been deserted on his way up here. A glance at his watch confirmed the fact that Ryder was now forty minutes late for their meeting. Miki knew it wasn’t because his boss was a poor timekeeper – it would be because his previous meeting had run on late, and he considered it more important than subsequent appointments. After all, Miki was only an employee. Wasn’t he?

He glanced again at the paintings that hung on the walls, artists’ impressions of the company’s developments. Smart, superior town houses in Mediterranean locations, with personal spa and fitness centres; elegant apartments by the warm seas, placed equally well for city entertainment and golf courses. Everything exclusive - everything with elaborate private security arrangements. It was a byword for RLI – everything was beautifully presented and tailored to their wealthy clientele. Everything a rich executive could aspire to later in life, the unspoken quid pro quo of an exhausting career in the city, a career that would obviously pay him enough to afford such a prestige home. Miki cast a cynical eye over the artist’s extravagant views: guessed this was what they called ‘artistic licence’. He knew for a fact that, to date, only a couple of the developments were finished.

He wondered – briefly - whether a guy like him would have a luxury place like that one day. It raised a wry smile. He should know his place well enough by now.

He was an interloper in this world of speculative business - an anomaly in amongst the fawners and the butt-lickers and the public school educated. He was a loose cannon. But it hadn’t held him back, had it? His arrival at the firm had been unusual from the very first. He’d been interviewed by the chief executive, Don Ryder himself; shown around the organisation by him; introduced to many of the corporate clients - all personally, by Ryder. No-one was quite sure why he’d merited the special attention – not even Miki himself, for whom a robust self-esteem was second nature – but he knew when to take an opportunity offered and make an expectation of it. Officially, he was working under one of the senior managers, but he’d been established as Ryder’s man, no doubt about it. Of course, the downside was that his time was entirely Ryder’s, for the man to do with what he wished; his attention was all Ryder’s; his ambition was in Ryder’s hands. Like tonight, he often had to wait around for hours, kicking his heels until the chief executive found a spare minute to see him…

The door opened even as he was starting to itch with impatience. Miki felt the gaze on his back and turned around, slowly. “About fucking time, too. I’m not on overtime here.”

The man at the doorway raised an eyebrow: a dark, well-groomed eyebrow. His whole demeanour was one of sophistication: an expensive suit, superbly tailored to his stocky but athletic limbs; the slightest aroma of exclusive cologne; plain, strong features on a face that appeared ten years younger than the age on his well-travelled passport.

“Thank God I never allowed you to make the presentation to the merchant banks,” he drawled. There was a slight smile on his face that belied the scolding. “Your turn of phrase is as lurid as always.”

Miki smiled. “Might have cut the agenda short by a few points, though. But you’re right, it’s not my thing. So was the meeting successful?” Did you get what we want? he wanted to say, but he hesitated to imply any desperation on his boss’ part – or his own.

Ryder drew a deep breath. It wasn’t quite a sigh, but his broad shoulders did relax a little. “I think so. As I anticipated, they were nervous that we were selling so aggressively in advance of the properties being complete, but I was able to assure them that this is purely a timing issue. There are additional covenants to be met, but the extra funding will be fully in place by the end of the summer. I can continue the developments as planned: we can start marketing the new apartments as soon as possible.”

Miki felt the leap of excitement inside his chest. “And you’ll need me for that, right? You’ll need a whole new show this season, a brand new initiative, and I’m your best man for that. I’ve been working on my own ideas ever since you presented the business plan to your managers. No-one knows your designs better than I do – no-one understands what an opportunity there is here. Fuck it, no-one can sell like I can…”

Ryder watched his employee’s bright eyes; the way his breath was quickening with excitement. To anyone watching, the older man’s expression would have seemed patronising, yet at the same time a light flickered in his eyes as if they burned. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said, slowly. “It’s too late to decide things now, and I need to review the new contracts.”

“Tell me what they want,” urged Miki. “Tell me what they need to know.” He waved a hand over his papers, still strewn on the board table. There were reports and acetates for presentation; spreadsheets of figures analysed back and forth; several mocked-up brochure covers. “I can give you the information – and if I can’t now, I will by morning.”

Ryder’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the scattered sheets. “You’ve been doing your homework.”

Miki flushed slightly. He wasn’t completely sure of the tone in Ryder’s voice. “Yeah, of course. The company’s about to launch big time, and I want to be a part of that. I want it to succeed.”

“And how do you see that happening, Miki?”

Miki frowned. “Do you mean, how do I see it – or how our clients will? To me, I see your vision. It’s growing sales, it’s the fight for market share, it’s your name in the financial press as the man most likely to succeed – and it’s all good news. And your product is a vision, too, right? A dream, for so many people. An apartment in a complex that’s exclusive, luxurious, situated in glorious sunshine – or so the brochures tell us.” He smiled, slowly. “And that’s what I’ll sell to the clients. The dream. That’s what they’ll want, what they’ll believe – and what they’ll buy. I’ll get you the customers, whether they’re home-grown yuppies or senile ex-pats: whether the dream ever becomes reality or not. I’ve done that for you since the day I joined, and that’s what you want from me.”

“Good answer,” Ryder replied. He was impressed, though he wouldn’t tell Miki that – not yet. He stared at the fierce look in Miki’s eyes and speculated yet again about the young man’s background. He’d taken on Miki Romano without references, without proof of qualifications – though, admittedly, those weren’t the things that impressed Ryder at the best of times. Instead, he’d looked at the tense, handsome, excitable young man in the well-worn designer suit and he’d seen all the things that did impress him – greed; determination; ambition; ruthless selfishness. A certain feral hunger that seeped through everything that Miki said and did, whether he admitted it or not. He suspected that Miki had been operating on both sides of the law with equivalent ease – and that his experience of aggression had been something rather more physical than a hostile corporate takeover. Yet Ryder still hired him: in fact, maybe those were the reasons why. Ryder had seen a good deal of things about Miki that he liked – and that he wanted.

The young man’s confidence had grown faster than Ryder had expected, too. He wondered what would happen if he disagreed with Miki’s assessment of his performance to date. Luckily, he didn’t need to.

“Yes,” he said, steadily. “That’s what you’ve done, and you’ve been extremely successful at it. Cooper’s pleased with both your progress and your commitment. He’s glad you’re on his team.”

“No, he fucking well isn’t,” snapped Miki, but with a half-grin on his face. “He hates my guts, don’t pretend that’s news to either of us. Says I’m rude, I piss him off, I cut too many corners and I’m probably a crook.” Miki glanced at Ryder, seeing the older man’s eyes narrow. Yeah, he’d guessed that Cooper’s complaints had reached the boss’ ears. “Guy’s just scared because I’m better than he is at the job. Piece for piece, I’ve sold more since I’ve been here than he has in the last two years, and he knows it. Ryder, I know the investment you’ve put into this. I also know what a vulnerable stage we’re at right now, but how profitable it can be, if it’s handled right. Hell, I have so many great ideas for marketing it – for making you that man most likely.” Ideas? Fuck, he thought, I’m full of the things, aching to give them free rein!

He leant across the table, staring at his boss. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I? Let me have this one, Ryder. Let me have this new initiative. Put me in charge of it, not Cooper - let me show you what I can do.” He was talking too fast, he knew, but it was so fucking important that Ryder believed in him, that he let Miki have his head on this, that he let him out from under the weight of the other idiots who worked for him, when all they were doing was cruising from one crisis to the next, living off the company’s resources and creaming off a pretty good unofficial commission at the same time.

Yeah, OK, so Miki did the same, didn’t everyone? But he gave good value in return – that was the difference. And Ryder should know that…

The man in front of him tugged at his tie and cleared his throat. So much of what Miki said was right – and yet his delivery was so… Ryder searched his vocabulary for a description and settled on passionate. Miki might not realise quite how vulnerable Ryder Lifestyle Investments was at the moment, but he certainly had a feel for what was needed to keep the cash flowing. A huge investment was at stake, but there was a huge gain to be pursued.

Ryder had never been afraid of risk, but that didn’t mean he didn’t evaluate and prepare for it carefully. And he knew the importance of evaluating swiftly.

“Eight a.m., Monday,” he said. “Show me your plans then. I’ll expect full financial models, too. I’m looking to launch the new apartments at a gala dinner next month – if your ideas look good, the event is yours to co-ordinate. You’ll have the same resources that I’d give to Cooper, and you’ll have the same deadlines to meet. And if there’s any hint that you can’t cope on your own…”

“There won’t be.” Miki tried to keep the tremor of excitement out of his voice. “I’ll work on it over the weekend. I’ll be in your office at eight on Monday.”

“No other plans for your days off, Miki?”

Miki met his boss’ quizzical gaze. “A visit to my sister and her new kid, but she’ll understand if I postpone that. Otherwise I have no other commitments. I’m a free agent.” And you know that, he thought, with a sudden burst of adrenalin. That’s what you expect of me.

Ryder nodded wearily, as if something was now settled and he could admit how tired he was. “This dinner must go well, though I don’t have the time to keep a close eye on it myself. There are… problems with this latest project.”

Miki picked up on the thread of concern in Ryder’s voice. “You mean with the building? The design?” Hadn’t he just sorted out the finance?

Ryder shook his head, but he looked worried: Miki couldn’t remember many instances of that. “No, nothing specific. Just make it work, Miki. Sell it for me – make it that success you talked about.”

“That’ll happen,” said Miki, forcefully. He could feel a single drop of sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades. “I’ll sort everything out. No problems at all.”

Ryder stared back at him, a slight smile forming on his lips. “Your enthusiasm is…” He shrugged his elegant shoulders, still smiling. “It’s fascinating, Miki. Your energy astonishes me, time and again.”

Miki grinned in return. Of course he had energy! This was the chance he’d been waiting for, wasn’t it? He was hungry to run things his own way; to grab a piece of the action for himself. He knew what Ryder saw in him tonight, because he could feel it course through him – he was buzzing with it. Buzzing with more than that, too. “I expect you’d like to see more of what I can do for you,” he said, slowly, softly. “Here and now. A different kind of homework. Wouldn’t you?”

Ryder glanced down at his watch.

“There’s time,” said Miki. His voice dropped a couple of notches in volume, and Ryder looked back up at him, startled.

“Miki, I have a dinner engagement at nine.”

“Yeah,” said Miki, unfazed. “Like I said, plenty of time.” He stepped out from behind the table, though still a foot or so away from the other man. He reached up, loosening the silk tie at his throat, drawing it out from under his collar.

Ryder was silent, but his hand went to the back of a chair, as if to steady himself. He watched as Miki flipped open the top button of his shirt; as he slipped slim, confident fingers down his torso, undoing the others, one by one. Ryder’s breathing grew harsher; his eyes narrowed.

When the whole shirt was undone, Miki tugged it out from under his belt and shrugged it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He caught Ryder’s eye and held the gaze. He stood still, silent for a moment except for his quickening breath, a small patch of sweat glistening in the hollow at the base of his throat. His nipples tightened on exposure, then softened again in the warm air of the room. The muscles of his belly clenched gently, drawing attention to his semi-nakedness, his skin smooth and taut from neck to navel.

Ryder’s eyes ran slowly down him, lingering at the chest; slipping beyond Miki’s waistband and down to the gentle swelling at his groin.

“You want me,” said Miki, calmly. It was a statement, not a question.

There was a sudden flash of anger in Ryder’s eyes. “I’m the one who says what I want. Not you.”

Miki shrugged, unfazed. He turned his head to one side, stretching out the sinews in his neck. He lifted a hand in a smooth, graceful gesture, and pushed back the dark hair on his forehead. The slender fingers lingered at the side of his face, brushing his jaw, a fingertip trailing down the side of his throat, smoothing the tight skin there. It was as if some other hand caressed him, not his own: he nuzzled his cheek gratefully against the palm. His eyes started to close, heavy-lidded as if with growing desire; his breath came out in a reluctant gasp. His tongue slipped out from between his lips, licking them.

Ryder’s breath exhaled slowly - a soft, hot sound in the quiet room. “You are magnificent. I knew that, the minute you came to me, asking for a job.” It was true – he’d watched all the hopefuls arrive for interview that day, but it had been Miki who caught his eye. Ryder had seen the way Miki moved; the way he charmed the receptionist; the hunger that glinted in his eyes. Ryder’s assistant had been startled to receive the call from her boss, informing her that he would be taking the interviews himself. A most unusual step, everyone had said.

Miki was watching Ryder closely, smiling. He stretched his arm back up behind his head, the bicep tightening on his upper arm, the soft hairs dark in the hollow of his armpit. His other hand hovered at his waist, teasing at the button of his trousers. “And you gave me a job, indeed,” he murmured, nodding. “Such a good judge of character.”

Ryder took a step forward, towards him. “A nine o’clock engagement,” he repeated, but there was no urgency in his tone: he sounded as if he were no longer worried about the time.

Miki slipped the zip of his trousers and slid his hand inside. He gripped himself, folding his palm around his cock, feeling it half-aroused and dampening the front of his boxers. He wasn’t gentle with himself – never had been. He knew Ryder was watching him touch himself. “Chair?” he murmured. If Ryder sat in his usual board room chair, Miki would slide to his knees in front of him, pushing open his boss’ legs, sliding a greedy hand up the inside of his thigh, into his trousers and burrowing under his heavy balls…

“No,” said Ryder. He sounded hoarse. “I’ll stand. Come here.”

Miki’s eyes flickered down to Ryder’s lap and back up to the man’s flushed face. It would be quick tonight. The negotiation meeting with the bankers and lawyers must have been tense. He licked his lips again and stepped forward, putting out a hand to Ryder’s shoulder to steady himself. He could feel the other man’s body trembling very gently: Ryder’s hand brushed briefly against his exposed nipples. His mouth reached for Ryder’s, but Ryder shuddered underneath his touch, and Miki halted just before the kiss.

“Not tonight,” hissed Ryder. Miki would know what he meant. He had a wife at home and a possessive mistress for other times. He didn’t want either of them to smell too much of another lover on Ryder’s hair and clothes. Another man.

Miki took a deep breath and lowered himself to his knees in front of his boss. He looked up at him: his eyes felt hot and his heart was beating fast. “You want to stop this, too?” he whispered.

Ryder shook his head, dumbly. Miki’s face was only a few inches from his groin: Miki’s mouth was there, too, the lips thick and moist and eager. Ryder knew he wanted this – knew he was going to take it. And afterwards, a quick shower would erase both the memory and aroma of Miki’s tongue; of his slick saliva; of his teeth, sliding across the taut skin on Ryder’s hips…

Ryder shuddered again with the anticipation. Miki’s warm hand unzipped him and slipped inside his boxers to release his arousal. He was already hard, almost painfully so, and his cock was straining against the silk. There had been a single moment – some time half-way through the afternoon’s agenda – when he’d thought of Miki, and the meeting with him that he’d scheduled for later. Ryder was usually so single-minded at work that the sudden distraction had caught him unprepared. He’d thought of Miki, just like this – on his knees, sliding his mouth down over him, grinning. Ryder’s cock had swelled quickly inside his trousers and remained hard until now.

Miki sighed, softly. Ryder’s cock was thick, though not so long that deep-throating it caused him problems. He liked the smell of it, a mix of natural musk and Ryder’s expensive soap. It was the smell of wealth; of careful attention. He licked its underside and smiled when it jerked against his cheek. Ryder groaned quietly and Miki knew that was an unarticulated request for him to hurry up. He wet his lips and let some of the saliva dribble on to the head. Then he leant forward another inch or so and went down on it.

Ryder’s hand slammed down on the top of his head almost immediately, the fingers tangling quickly into his thick, dark hair. Miki knew how the other man hesitated to relinquish control – but how much it secretly excited him. Miki suspected that Ryder had none of this power struggle with his women. He let his mouth slide back up the cock to its crown, tightened his lips and plunged back down to the base. It nudged at the roof of his mouth and he relaxed his throat. Ryder’s hands tugged at his head, but just for these first few moments, Miki was in control of the pace. He pumped slowly, wetly, nursing the cock and feeling it throb on his tongue as he coaxed it to the edge.

He was right: it wasn’t going to take long.

“More,” Ryder gasped, suddenly. “Miki, don’t hold back. Fuck -” He gripped even more harshly at Miki’s hair and started to thrust into his mouth, fucking him, forcing into him. Ryder had known many lovers, but it wasn’t often he felt a desire quite as fierce as this; as demanding. He relished the boldness of Miki’s touch, the greedy possession, the way that he knew exactly what Ryder wanted and was so eager to give it. The ecstasy coiled deep in Rider’s groin, pushing for release, and he cried out as he lost control of it at last. His hips slammed against Miki’s jaw, his legs shook, and he started to pump out into Miki’s mouth. He pulled one hand out of the dark hair and groped for the back of the nearby chair, trying to keep his balance.

Miki let the hot warmth spit on to his tongue, keeping it there until Ryder’s cock gave its last, feeble hiccup. The older man’s body was shaking, but he was still upright. Miki slid his mouth off carefully, feeling the sheath crinkle against his teeth, and he climbed back up to his feet. He caught Ryder’s drowsy gaze and grinned. He made sure the other man’s gaze drifted down to his throat, and then he swallowed the come, slowly and deliberately. He licked his lips to catch any last beads of it.

Ryder sighed. “Magnificent,” he murmured. His hand tugged at the waist of his trousers, ready to zip himself up again.

Miki shifted his own cock inside his trousers, as unobtrusively as he could. He was very hard. “Shall I come around later?” He kept his words casual and his eyes on Ryder’s face – he’d learned that was the way to read the situation best. Ryder had a small but expensive flat in town for when he had late meetings, and sometimes he invited Miki there.

Ryder raised an eyebrow. “To discuss the marketing campaign?” His eyes were still hooded, but his focus was sharp again.

Miki smiled, gently. “Whatever you want. Talk or fuck. I’m flexible.”

Ryder’s eyes widened and the flush on his cheeks seemed suddenly deeper. Yes, he knew how flexible Miki could be. Astonishing, how the young man who’d just sucked him off so well could talk so crudely and so cheaply – like in a porn movie, for heaven’s sake – and yet cause such raw, sexual turmoil in him in return. He took an extra breath: calmed his voice. “You know how some of them speak of you, Miki, in the management meetings? That you’re distracting – disruptive.” He fastened his trousers carefully: he smoothed his shirt. “That your methods are often… reckless.”

Miki grinned even more. Ryder would know that none of that was news to him. He bent quickly to the floor and scooped up his own discarded shirt. “Hell of a testimonial, but I can’t say it gives me sleepless nights. The only one that matters is you, Ryder - your opinion is what counts. And you like reckless, don’t you?”

Ryder grimaced back. “You’d better believe that – that it’s my opinion that counts. But yes, I like reckless. I like what you do with it. It’s…”

Miki raised an eyebrow, waiting.

But Ryder checked himself. There were too many things on his mind: he didn’t have time for this. Not now. He shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts. “Not tonight.” He watched Miki turn away, sliding an arm into his shirt: even that casual movement was sensual. “I must go. I’ll see you at the meeting on Monday.”

Miki didn’t look back up at his boss, though he paused for a second. Then he continued dressing. “Sure. I’ll have all the information for you then.” He started to say something else but hesitated. He was re-fastening his tie when the door clicked shut behind Ryder. Miki bit at his lower lip, unsurprised at the speedy exit. That was often the way of it with Ryder.

He stepped back to the table, ostensibly to gather up his papers, but also to wait for his breathing to steady. His cock ached for attention, but he knew Ryder wasn’t in the business of that kind of quid pro quo. If it happened that he pleased Miki in return, that was fine – but not part of the contract.

But nor did Miki need to go without.

He slipped his mobile out of his pocket and dialled a number from memory. A young male voice answered, sounding startled.

“Come round tonight,” Miki murmured, with no other greeting. He listened for a moment, then laughed shortly. “If you’re answering this, you don’t fucking have any other offers tonight, so don’t play games with me. But if you want to stay home, that’s fine by me, too -” The phone chattered sharply in reply, and Miki smiled. “Give me an hour to get home and freshen up, then,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”