forced to take a vacation.

“Maybe we should break up,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Maybe I don’t want to break up,” Derek said.

“When was the last time you forced someone to take a break?”

“Three months ago.”

“Oh. So this was a habit, then? Was he naked and chained to your bed, too?”

Derek laughed quietly. John wasn’t in a laughing mood. “No.”

“You can’t do this to me!” He opened his eyes, wishing that he could wrench his hands free. “You’re compromising me and undermining me. If you don’t fire me, I’m going to have to quit.”

Derek shifted in one deceptively casual move to kneel astride John’s thighs. “I’m not going to fire you.”

John knew that he was glaring, and didn’t bother to tone it down. “I knew better than to start fucking someone I worked with, but I just had to start fucking someone I worked for.”

“That’s because I’m… What did you call me?” Derek asked, slowly trailing his fingers around John’s right nipple, gaze rising from John’s chest to John’s eyes. “Irresistible?”

John wanted to smack Derek’s hand away, but his body instinctively responded to Derek’s touch, awareness racing across his flesh as Derek’s fingers circled maddeningly, torturously close to the tight nub of his nipple. “Get your hands off of me,” he forced himself to say, furious with Derek, angry with himself. It was Derek’s fault that he was chained to the bed, but it was his own fault that his personal and professional lives were in conflict. He’d put himself in this position.

Derek leaned in close, lips brushing feather-soft against his jaw. “Make me,” Derek whispered, and kissed his cheek, lightly twisting his nipple. John closed his eyes, tensing against Derek’s touch, nerves jumping. “I’m not going to dump you,” Derek said, voice soft, kiss softer, the flat of Derek’s hand rubbing across his chest. “I’m not going to fire you.”

With his hands cuffed, and Derek’s weight across his thighs, John felt impossibly helpless. “Get off of me!”

The lick of Derek’s tongue along his jaw brought heat to John’s cheeks. “You need to take a break. Get away from the job for a week or two.”

“I am not going to take a vacation because you’re feeling neglected,” John snapped, turning his face to one side to avoid Derek’s kiss. “My career is important to me. Get over yourself.”

“This isn’t about me,” Derek said calmly, lightly running his knuckles up and down John’s chest. “This is about you working yourself into an early grave. You can’t devote this much of yourself to a job. That can’t be all there is to your life. You have to save time for your family, for your friends, for your other responsibilities, and for yourself. When was the last day you took any time for yourself?”

“It takes time, actual working hours, to accomplish things,” John snapped. “If I stop to smell the roses every damned day, I won’t get as much done. Do you want me to neglect my proposals? Drop my presentations? Skip meetings? Avoid memos?”

“I know that you’re busy,” Derek said. Derek’s fingers stroked John’s forearm; John tried to jerk his hand away but couldn’t get far. “I’m busy, too. But there’s a difference between being busy and becoming a workaholic. People are getting worried about you. Steve thinks