“Quite nice, cock and Flake,” Jonty said, panting slightly. “I can’t talk while I’m all crunched up doing this…so I want you to talk. Tell me what you’re doing.”
“Watching you and jerking off. It won’t take long.”
Jonty laughed and almost choked. “I can’t get the Flake and my cock in my mouth. It’s not big enough. My mouth, not my cock. Now I have to choose. Cock or chocolate.” He whined. “That’s really difficult. Good job the choice isn’t between your cock and a Flake. You might be upset.”
“Oh God.” Devan was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open.
Jonty put the Flake aside and concentrated on his cock. When he reached round to finger his hole, Devan gave a loud groan. Jonty slid his lips down over his dick, sucked and Devan cried out, “For fuck’s sake!”
“Devan? Are you okay?” a voice called.
“Yeah, fine, Dad. Just twisted something in the sheets.”
Jonty tried not to laugh.
“Okay. Night.” Will sounded amused.
“Night.”
Jonty was so close. He kept pumping and sucking, and exploded with a jolt, come spilling into his mouth and down his chin. Devan fell apart silently, his lips pressed tightly together as he spurted over his stomach and chest. Jonty dropped his legs, reached for the Flake, put it back in his mouth and took a bite, moaning for effect.
“You little tease,” Devan whispered.
“Just a reminder of what’s waiting for you. Love you, Best Boyfriend in the Entire Multiverse. Night.”
“Love you, Flake Boy.”
Jonty laughed.
~~~
Jonty took the dogs with him to work the next day. There was no sign of Bruce.
“What’s the code to get into the office?” Jonty asked Daisy.
“8-5-3-7.”
“Thanks.”
Jonty was nervous about using Bruce’s office in case he turned up and yelled at him, but it was pointless just sitting and waiting, so Jonty switched on the computer, only to find it was password protected. He could work on his own laptop, though he really wanted to check what Bruce had on his computer, in case there was something he was supposed to be doing. Testing the fire alarm, sacking someone, calling workmen to fix something, counting spoons… Even better if Jonty came across a page called A day in the life of The Dunes Hotel manager, with a list of things he should be doing. Number one—count the spoons.
He looked through the drawers of the desk for random bits of paper, in case Bruce had written the password down and tossed it in there, but he didn’t find any. Though he did help himself to Bruce’s lanyard and the extra set of keys. Thank goodness Bruce had left those.
Jonty really fancied a coffee, but he didn’t want to risk using the machine that he’d had such trouble with, though it sat there, tempting him, taunting him. He’d probably end up with coffee all over the floor. Or ceiling. Or both. After I’ve sorted this, I’ll get a drink. Jonty tapped in 1-2-3-4, hoping Bruce was Mr Predictable, but he wasn’t. With only two attempts left, he tried a-b-c-d. Nope, Bruce wasn’t Mr Stupid, either.
Jonty went to reception and smiled at Daisy. “Do you happen to know Bruce’s password?”
“No, sorry.”
It had been a long shot.
“Is there anything that he does every morning that I ought to be doing?”
Daisy shrugged. “Don’t know. Sorry.”
As Jonty walked back into the office, Andrew followed him.
“I’m not supposed to know it, but it’s r-o-s-i-e. It’s his daughter’s name. Don’t tell him I told you.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Andrew.”
The first thing that Jonty did, was look at the hotel website. His heart thumped as he read the home page that already had a piece about the Halloween event, with a brilliant graphic, and a link to click for tickets. No going back now. But once he was into Bruce’s files, he wasn’t sure what to look for. He did find Bruce’s planner which showed two appointments that week. Luckily, Bruce had noted phone numbers with the names. Though Jonty hesitated to cancel them, in case Bruce came in. Should he call him? But he didn’t want Bruce to know he’d been on his computer. This was the sort of dilemma he didn’t like having.
The front desk also had a copy of the planner so he felt safe calling Bruce. When he didn’t answer, Jonty left a message. “Hi Bruce. It’s me. Jonty. Er… Not sure when you’re coming back in, but you have two appointments this week with a Ben Green and a Felicity Ambrose. Should I cancel them? I’m sorry if I upset you yesterday. I didn’t mean to. Er… Anyway, let me know when you’ll be back, please. Thank you.”
Jonty might not mind saying sorry, but he hated grovelling, particularly after what Bruce had said to him. But he didn’t want to get into trouble for not doing stuff he was supposed to, particularly if it was important. Sometimes, grovelling was a necessary evil. And yet grovelling had got him Devan, and just thinking of Devan and what he’d learned from him, spurred Jonty on. I can do this.
Except he couldn’t access Bruce’s business emails which had additional password protection, though he did manage to open all the files on suppliers, staff etc. so he could see when deliveries were being made, when staff were away and so on. Apart from fresh produce, there was nothing being delivered that day. He also checked social media to see what, if anything, was being said about The Dunes in case he needed to answer points on Tripadvisor, or questions on the Facebook page or on Twitter. There was already a Facebook post and Tweets about Halloween courtesy of head office, but no questions yet.
Jonty locked up and went for a wander with the dogs, making sure the hotel looked clean and tidy. He introduced himself as acting manager when he spoke to guests and staff. He was good with people. He could do this part of the job. No one had anything negative to say, but even if they had, he knew what to do. If it wasn’t something he could fix there and then, then he’d tell the customer he’d be looking into it. And he would look into it. Anything out of the ordinary, such as a dead body, he’d scream, then he’d call Alan.
When Major Bagshott came in for coffee, Jonty was pleased to see a familiar face and joined him in the lounge.
Once Charlotte and Winnie had recovered from the excitement of meeting up with Dottie, the major’s dog, the three of them settled on the carpet near the fire. Jonty managed one sip of his Americano before a problem arose. There was a blocked toilet in one of the top-floor rooms. That was followed by the report of a lost phone, and the non-arrival of one of the cleaners. But Jonty had learnt from watching Devan and other managers while he’d been training, and he delegated the work, confirmed the other cleaners could cover for their colleague for that day, and went back to the major.
“Are you in charge, Jonty? Going up in the world as a bright young man like you deserves?”
Ooh. “Did I tell you I love you?”
“Not today.”
“Well, I do. So much. My favourite major in the entire world. I’m temporarily in charge. Until everything goes wrong. Then I’ll find someone to blame. Probably the person who put me in charge.”
The major laughed. “Would that be Bruce Kauffmann?”