Chiaroscuro by Jenna Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

on the stool, his mouth a breath away from Jamie's. "We could always make out," he whispered, eyes darting all over Jamie's face.
    "That's true." He kissed the tip of Micah's nose, opening his knees so Micah could stand between his legs, and slipped his fingertips into the back pockets of Micah's jeans. "Do you wanna kiss me?"
    "Very much," Micah whispered. He licked his lips again and kissed Jamie, not touching him anywhere but his mouth. "I wish I could do more to you."
    "Come home with me tonight, then. I'll let you do anything you like."
    "I can't--my parents are home tonight."
    "Oh," Jamie said, disappointed. "I'd forgotten they're back." He kneaded Micah's ass through his jeans. "I guess begging for one more night is out of the question."
    "They'll want to know why." He shivered and put his arms around Jamie's neck.
    "You could move out, you know."
    He rolled his eyes. "They want me to save for college."
    "I'm sure you have enough to pay for an entire degree by now. Although," he added in a drawl, "if you go to one of the schools here in the city you could move in with me and tell them it's to save money. And I'll look after you in the big...bad...city." He licked the side of Micah's neck.
    "Maybe," Micah said in a doubtful tone. He closed his eyes and hummed with happiness as Jamie kissed him. "Mm, Jamie--I wish we could do it here."
    Jamie pulled Micah closer. "Who says we can't?"
    "With all these people around? Are you crazy?"
    Jamie looked to the right. Looked to the left. "I hadn't noticed it was so crowded in here."
    "You know what I mean. Anybody could come through that door. Anybody could--" He sighed and stepped out of Jamie's arms, pulling down his shirt where Jamie had hiked it up. "We should head down to the conference room."
    Jamie puzzled at him and scratched his beard. "Micah, everybody here knows I'm gay. You know that, right?"
    "Yeah, but--oh God." He buried his face in his hands.
    There was a pause. "Yeah." Jamie got off the stool. "Time for the meeting. All the good seats will be gone."
    "Jamie--" Micah stopped him, hands on his chest. "Jamie. Please. I'm sorry. I--this is all new. You know that it is. And it's scary and--and--"
    Jamie sighed and placed his hands on top of Micah's. "I know. I know it is. I'm sorry--I forget sometimes how scary it is." He squeezed Micah's hands and removed them from his chest. "We've got jobs to lose. Come on."
    ***
    For the first time in the history of Virtuoso Games, there was no applause when the CEO stepped onto the stage. He looked hurt at this, and for a moment Jamie almost felt sorry for him.
    Almost.
    The speech was brief. Worthless stock. Games not selling. You're all brilliant, but clear out your desks by five.
    Without allowing time for questions, he escaped, back behind the bright blue curtains that framed the stage. The big conference room that had always rung with laughter and fun was silent.
    Everyone burst into talk at once--how, why, when? What now? Now what do we do?
    "Now what?" Micah whispered to Jamie, and Aidan and the rest of the art department looked to him as if to ask the same thing.
    He wondered when he had become the authority figure. "We pack." He almost reached for Micah's cheek to give him a caress, but gave his chin a tweak instead. "Don't panic. C'mon, kids, let's go clean up. It's a party. It's a So Long And Fuck You party. C'mon."
    They trooped after him up the aisle, making Jamie feel like the Pied Piper. So hell, why not: he started singing a Manchester United song--"Who ate all the pies? Who ate all the pies?"--which none of them knew but they all picked up quickly. They sang as they rode up in the elevator and went down the hall to the art department. There was beer and champagne in the break room fridge--Jamie broke it out, passed it around, and turned up the department stereo to "I Will Survive."
    Micah had to leave them to pack up his own desk but came back soon--he hadn't been there long enough to collect as much memorabilia.