Hitting on him was just a silly bet. I didn’t expect to be this good at it…
None of it was my fault.
Yes, I might have hit on him in a place I had no business being in. And yes, I might have—accidentally, mind you!—called him ‘hot’ and bragged about my size in a voice memo and—
Okay, so it might have been a little bit my fault…
Still, it would all have been no harm, no foul, if it weren’t for the fact that my new job apparently comes with a side of Christian Johns, because my life is a cosmic joke, and I’m the punchline.
I don’t get the hots for men. In theory.
But the damage is done, now that I’ve heard him moan, and my eyes keep drifting to where I have the perfect view of Christian through the glass wall of his office, my mind torturing me with more and more debauched scenarios and what-ifs.
And frankly, I’m beginning to worry I may not come out the other end of this situation with my current identity intact.
Seriously, send help. And quick, before I do something stupid like press him against the wall and forget I’m straight.
This is a stand-alone GFY erotic story, and it involves explicit, hot gay content, intended for mature readers only. All characters are adults.
