Making It Personal by Wells, C. (best non fiction books of all time txt) 📗

in eight weeks ago.” Every writer who submitted was given a turn-around time of six to eight weeks to hear if their manuscript had been successful. For reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, Blake had fallen behind and now there were eight authors who were already past the deadline. He glanced at his watch. It was five thirty. The office closed officially at four, but he was seldom home before seven. He expelled his breath in one long push of air. There was nothing for it. He’d have to stay and get it done.

He groaned. “Oh fuck. I was supposed to have dinner with Melissa tonight, too.” He couldn’t miss Will’s sardonic grin. He remembered the first time she’d waltzed into the office after Will had begun to work. Melissa had introduced herself as Blake’s girlfriend and Will had been momentarily too stunned to respond. Once she’d left, however, the questions began. Will found it most amusing, the sod.

“I’ll ring her and cancel. You go on home,” he told Will. “I’m going to stay and finish these.”

Will frowned. “How many do you have left?” Blake told him. “Can I help?”

Blake sighed. “It’s a nice offer, but you know I don’t delegate these.”

Will persisted. “So you’re reading through the story summaries, deciding if it sounds viable and if it does, reading through the manuscript?” Blake nodded. “And if not, they get put on the No Thank You pile?”

Blake smirked. “Inaccurate, but yeah, you’ve got the general idea.”

“And they can’t wait until tomorrow?”

Blake shook his head. “We’re already over the limit. More than a couple of the authors have emailed to inquire.” He stared glumly at the file on his screen. Will hadn’t moved. And suddenly Blake relented. Just this once, he told himself. “Actually,” he began slowly, “you could help me.”

“Name it.”

“Would you read through the summaries? Decide if you think it’s a story we’d want to release? Then I’ll skim through those that you think suitable.”

Something crossed Will’s face. Blake cursed inwardly. Of course—Will probably had a client lined up for tonight. In the two months since Will had joined the company, Blake hadn’t once brought up the subject. For reasons he didn’t want to analyze too deeply, Blake felt uncomfortable at the thought of Will being off somewhere getting fucked. He told himself it was none of his business, as long as Will’s work wasn’t affected. And he had nothing but praise for that. Will was a treasure. They worked well together, Will often anticipating Blake’s requirements before he had the chance to say a word. But that didn’t stop the thought which slipped through Blake’s brain with disturbing regularity. Why don’t you have another night with him? You know you want to. Wanting was one thing. Following through was another thing entirely. Blake pushed the thought aside. Better to keep things professional—even if his hole clenched tight at the thought of Will fucking him again.

And now he’d clearly put Will in an awkward position. “Look, if that’s going to be a problem, then no worries. Go on home.”

Will narrowed his lips. “Nah, it’s okay. I just have to make a call first, that’s all.”

Blake nodded, although his chest tightened. Yeah, Will was supposed to be ‘working’ tonight. You know, I really didn’t want to know that. “Okay, thank you. You make your call and I’ll make us some coffee. Looks like we could use some.” Will gave him a brief nod and left the room. Blake stared at the screen, his mind focused not on the information there but on Will. Internally he berated himself. Why the fuck should it matter to you if he was going to be off fucking some guy tonight? Blake couldn’t account for it. His night with Will still lingered in his memory. Maybe what was required was another call to Jenny. I need to get laid. After all, it’s been two months since….. Yeah. Since Will. Blake scowled. It seemed his mind had a default right now. Every thought path seemed to lead back to his gorgeous PA.

Working with Will was easy. They just got on with it. But that didn’t stop him looking at Will every once in a while, usually when he was sure Will was engrossed by a task. Two months hadn’t diminished the impact of that first meeting. Blake loved the way Will rubbed his bottom lip when he was deep in thought. Those sexy milk chocolate eyes that Blake could so easily lose himself in. He shook himself. Enough.

“Pizza was a damn good idea.”

Blake couldn’t agree more. When both their stomachs had started growling, he’d reached for the phone and organized a delivery. The meat lover’s pizza had definitely filled a hole, and both men sated, they were back at their task. Blake had to admit, having Will help like this was a godsend. He’d already allocated three authors to the rejection pile. And the one he’d told Blake he must read? Damn, it was good. Not that Blake would make this a regular event. Reading the submissions kept him in touch with things.

Will got up and stretched, his long arms reaching above his head. Blake eyed his lean torso as Will’s shirt escaped from his pants, revealing a glimpse of creamy skin. Hurriedly he looked away before Will caught him.

“I’d say we’re about done here.” He closed down the computer with a sigh. Five contracts to go out the following morning. And three of them for new authors.

“I think they’re going to be really good.” Will tucked his shirt back into his pants. Blake glanced at his watch. Hell, it was nearly ten. But at least they’d got it done.

“God, my shoulders ache.” He rubbed at his right shoulder, trying awkwardly to massage the muscle.

“Here, let me do that.” Will came across to stand behind his chair and began to knead Blake’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscles in a really good way that had Blake groaning.

“Damn, you’re good at that.”

Will chuckled. “We aim to please.”