Free Tied in Knots: A Tied Together Novella by Z.B. Heller

Already headed home? It’s pretty early for you, isn’t it?” He pushed off the frame and walked slowly to my desk.
    “Yeah, I’m going to be making some adjustments to my schedule soon. Need to spend some more time with my family.”
    “Oh,” Sean said, holding the O shape on his lips.
    “Was there something you needed, or were you just coming by to say hey?”
    I looked for my coat, which was hanging on the back of the door. I went over to get it, and then turned back to look at Sean. He was sitting on the edge of my desk with his arms crossed. A single strand of hair fell into his eye. I walked toward him and made a motion with my hand, signaling the hair was there. He narrowed his eyes at me, but still wouldn’t move the damn piece of hair. It was like when a string on a person’s shirt unraveled and you had to remove it or you would to go postal.
    I reached up, took the single strand, and moved it behind his ear. “Sorry, I had to do that; it was kind of driving me crazy. I can be a little anal about stuff like that.” I started to back away when Sean grabbed my wrist.
    “You don’t ever have to be sorry about touching me,” he said softly.
    My eyes grew wide and my heart pounded.
    “I know you’re going through a lot right now, Brandon, and I want to be here for you. You need to release some of that tension you’ve got built up. Remember what we talked about at the pub?”
    Warning bells went off in my head. “Umm, Sean, I think maybe you have the wrong idea here.” I pulled my wrist back down to my side. “You’ve been a good friend, listening to me and all, but I love my husband and need to get home to him. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted more.”
    Did I give that impression? I thought back to the times we hung out. Was I giving off a different signal than just a pair of friends chatting?
    “Sean, I didn’t mean to give you any wrong ideas. It was great talking to you, but I love my husband and realized—”
    Before I could finish that sentence, Sean shot up, grabbed me by the waist, and pulled me against him. I felt his erection through his scrubs.
    “I don’t want to marry you, Brandon. I just want you to fuck me. Then you can go home to your husband.”
    I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back; the desk shook when he bumped up against it. “What the hell, Sean? I don’t know what gave you the idea that I wanted more than just a friendship, but you’ve got it all wrong.”
    He stood upright and smirked. “Come on, Brandon. I know when a guy needs to get laid. Your husband can’t give it to you like I would.” He pulled the string to his scrub pants loose, and they dropped down to his ankles. His erection jutted straight in my direction. Sean started to stroke it. “How about a quick suck. He’ll never have to know.”
    I needed to get the hell out of there and get to Ryan. I turned for the door, not caring if I left my bag or my jacket. My heart stopped when I saw Ryan in the doorway. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw tensed, and fists balled.
    Ryan charged past me and swung his fist right into Sean’s face. Sean flew back; his body skated over the top of my desk, knocking nearly everything onto the floor. Ryan stalked to where Sean was sprawled on the floor, and I followed. “If you ever touch, look at, or speak to my husband again, I will cut off that sad excuse for a dick. Are we clear?”
    Sean held his jaw and looked up at us. “You’re a loser. He deserves better than you.”
    Ryan bent down and picked up the letter opener, which had fallen to the floor with the rest of the contents of my desk, and pointed it at Sean. “Are we going to cut off that tiny gherkin right now?”
    I grabbed Ryan’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Ryan, put it down. He’s not worth it.”
    He turned around to face me, letter opener in hand. His anger was palpable. “He’s not worth it, but apparently, neither am I.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out