LOGINAs I cleaned up, and my secretary knocked lightly on my door, I pushed the entire Malroy family out of my mind.
I stepped out, clean and lightly sprayed. My secretary flushed. I had put on a fragrance she had gotten for me.
I smiled at her while I rolled my eyes internally.
Why do all these tricks think they mean more than what they can provide in the sack?! I cursed.
==========
Jayden’s POV
“How can it be only one p.m.!” I cursed aloud in my office.
My dick had not gone anywhere close to the direction I needed to, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything I needed to do.
I had snapped at three designers and had slammed the phone down on two suppliers.
My secretary had taken the day off. Reece was a smart man. Too fucking smart. He had heard my conversation with Martin. One I had carried out on speaker as I paced my office floor, bellowing at my only friend in the world.
“What the fuck, Martin?! How could you let this fucking happen? Are you a traitor now? Are you stabbing me in the back? How the fuck did that son of a bitch bastard get on this? How did you let this happen?” I exploded as soon as my top lawyer, Martin Cole, picked up the phone on his end.
“I’m sorry, Jade. I swear, I didn’t know –” he pressed placatingly.
“How could you not know?” I shot back immediately, “You’re a fucking lawyer! You’re MY fucking lawyer! How many fucking years has it been? How can you fuck up like this? Are you high on something new? Did he get something on you? How can –”
“Jade, please, I’m sorry. Give me a second to explain!” he pleaded, lowering his voice as he entered a smaller room, a door shut quietly in the background.
I could see him, hunched over the speaker, covering the phone with his hand, as if that would mute my volume or his.
“Explain what you second-rate, barrel-scraping, gutter rat?” I all but screamed.
That was when Reece tapped something on his keyboard and swept out of sight. My door was shut, but my office was not sound proof.
Martin sighed heavily.
“I’ll take that as your anger talking, Jade, and I’ll express my gratitude that you’re using words and not taking my firm apart instead,” he stated patiently.
He paused.
I waited.
“Please, Jayden. Believe me. I know everything. Remember? I was there, before, and after, remember? Please, you know me. Think about it. Even you didn’t know, right? come on. For old time’s sake, let me speak. Can I?” he asked carefully, slowly. I could feel the heaviness behind his tone.
I wasn’t a bad-tempered person. I wasn’t a hot head. But I was pissed. Beyond what my public mask could carry.
Martin, however, knew me better than anyone else, except maybe my sister, Rina.
I inhaled deeply. “Talk. Fast.”
“He’s Sir Sinclair’s son from a different marriage. He has used his mother’s name his whole life, and the old man never made him change it. He wasn’t even really in the family’s life, not directly. He was provided for, but that was it. Until he graduated law school with honors, and his other three brothers died or vanished.”
He paused.
I did as well.
He didn’t say what I knew he was thinking. What we were both thinking. Leon was not just a bastard; he was a special kind of devil. But we didn’t go there.
Martin continued.
“He’s been abroad for years. Came back to the States a little over a year ago. This business with the construction is his father’s dream, been on for a long time. That’s why the selection process was as detailed and extensive as it was.”
“I mean, who does multiple selections and insists on interviews with the applicants before even running a first draft review, only to do it all again at every stage?”
“It’s a lot of money,” I remarked evenly, finally feeling my shoulders relax. “The level of security features to go into that place is the kind that got builders and their families executed in the olden days, once the task was done,” I concluded matter-of-factly.
I could see my friend nodding on the other end of the line.
“Yeah, I can see that happening, but this is the modern age, there are better ways to vet people. Faster ways,” he commented swiftly, keeping our conversation moving forward.
“Sinclair is old school. I got all that from talking with him. I’m sure we only got past some of the checkpoints because our company is one of the oldest in the city,” I replied offhandedly.
“He never took any interest in his father’s project. But he walked in today. I almost had a heart attack. I swear. I don’t think he even recognized me. He was a senior by the time we got in so…he probably wouldn’t,” Martin stated calmly.
“And we didn’t hang around that much after I… Yeah…he might not know you at all,” I commented quietly, my voice drifting away.
Martin paused. “So…am I forgiven, friend?”
I aspirated. “Listen, friend, the only way I will ever forgive you is if you forgive me for being an asshole just now.”
“Deal.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. I’m just glad Rina hasn’t –”
“Martin…” I cut in.
“Oh, yeah, fuck, I almost forgot,” he remarked, laughing nervously.
I smiled lightly on my end. I said it for him in my mind – We don’t talk about Rina.
Martin cleared his throat. “What’s the plan? You gonna work with the kid?”
I saw the boy’s face. Adrian Sinclair. Both versions. The one from this morning and the one from last night. I sighed.
“Do we have a choice?”
“Put someone else on it,” Martin remarked.
“You know I can’t do that. My father would have an aneurysm!” I fake-complained.
“Then let him do it,” Martin pressed lightly.
I paused. Thinking for a moment. My father was an excellent architect, but he had also stepped back from active work, to spend time with my mother.
He had given his input on my designs for the project, at every stage, but it was mostly to agree, not really to make any changes.
“If you tell him who it is…” my friend’s voice drifted off.
I shook my head.
“No,” I replied slowly. “He’s given me the reigns. This is my job. If I run away from every fuck I’ve had, I should just close up shop,” I declared with a levity I did not feel.
Martin laughed.
I knew he would.
I was exaggerating; I hadn’t fucked that many people, but what it really was, was that I didn’t fuck those types of people, and Martin knew it.
I fully relaxed now, sinking into my chair.
“Read that contract again, Marty. Please, cover my family,” I stated quietly when my friend’s laughter subsided.
The weight between us was palpable.
“Of course,” he replied, his voice thick. “See you this weekend?” he added carefully.
“See you this weekend,” I replied firmly.
We hung up.
I stared at the wall. I checked the clock.
2:31 p.m.
Definitely, Father Time is fucking with me… I mused as my dick pushed against my pants. I closed my eyes, forcing it to stay down. To wait for nighttime.
I didn’t go home. My wife would have a conniption if she saw the bruises on me.I went to a hotel I used from time to time. An upscale, frequently used location by the masses. The kind that people win stays and dinners as prizes on shows.The irony that I had returned to my office the day after an attack by a squad of killers, but would not dare go home to my pregnant wife with the marks I had on my body, was not lost on me.But Mrs. Sullivan was not as kind as a bullet to the head.I used a wheelchair to get in, not because I couldn’t walk, but because I didn’t want my wounds to take a second longer than they needed to heal.The bellhop pressed the floor number for me and stood to the side.He rolled me into my suite, and I rose to get my wallet from my pocket. It fell, and he helped me pick it up.My words of gratitude froze on my lips.The eyes I was staring at should not be here.I glanced at the door that was closin
I pulled down, out of his wet mouth. He hissed as his hole emptied with a wet plop. His eyes came up; my head came down.I was moving now, better than before. I raised my arms to give me leverage. My eyes burned into his.He held my gaze, his lips swollen, his chin slick.I raised a brow. My body was definitely coming back.My lips twitched, then parted.“Are you… testing a product?” I rasped; my mouth was dry after all.He smiled.I sank into the chair, throwing my head back. I slid down as far as I could go. The tightness in my chest disappeared.I stared at him in the mirror.His eyes were on mine up there.“Finish it, and let me out of this shit,” I growled.He grinned.For the next, I don’t know how long, he worked me until I started to feel it – the pressure at the base of my shaft.My balls tightened.My chest did the same as my breath caught.I jerked upright, as well as
I was hot. My skin was on fire. The gel was burning me. Only, it wasn’t. As I stared at my chest, my eyes wide, sweat pouring off my forehead, I knew I wasn’t being injured.But the sensation was real.I croaked as the heat increased with every trembling breath.I wanted to pour cold water, or maybe even icy milk, all over my body. I strained against the binding, and only then did I realize that the chain on my wrist was connected to the chair itself.“Ed!!! Take these off! Take it off!” I bellowed, as if that would move him, as if that would stop him.He stood.“What’s wrong, baby? Is it uncomfortable?”“Ed!”He rubbed his still gel-covered fingers on my tongue.I gaped at him, mouth open. My body wasn’t moving right. It was not responding correctly.My eyes widened, and he bit his lip as he coated my tongue, then my lips with the jelly.Peaches… the word filled my mind as the scent filled my nost
“You came,” he breathed in his warm, steady voice, his face in mine as metal clanged softly behind me.I held his gaze as leather cuffs were placed on my wrists, without him shifting his eyes from mine. He leaned forward, drawing my arms behind me. I leaned back, raising my chin as he entered my space.His shoulders moved as he pulled on the chain on the cuffs. I didn’t blink.My head pulled back as a soft clink locked my chained arms to the back of my neck. My chest pushed out, pressing on his as he sat, legs wide, on my thighs, straddling me and adjusting himself as his dick rubbed against mine.I swallowed. I had to. I was suffocating, but I pressed my lips tight.His eyes scanned my face. He nodded imperceptibly and stood.I couldn’t lower my head.He had chained my throat to my wrists. Any move I made stretched not only the straps on my body but also pulled at my neck.I could move my arms, but my wrists were bound beside
The straps were biting into my skin. Not cutting. It wasn’t hurting. It was simply letting me know it was there. Every breath pulled on it. Every movement strained the binding.And whatever incense had been in the soap or the water or was in the air in the steam room, was making me want to cross my legs, but that would pull the straps around my ass cheeks, and I didn’t want that.There was no underwear in the bundle. I could already see where this was going. That was part of the game. To get me on edge.I wasn’t going to play.So, instead, I closed my eyes and moderated my breathing.==========Jayden’s POV.I went home. I didn’t have a choice. As my ‘driver’ helped me to the door, I slipped a note into his hand.He thanked me and ran off.I let myself in and went to the kitchen. I got ice from the freezer, wrapped it in a dish towel, and gasped as I pressed it on my side.I staggered upstairs to my bedroom and go
The person was dressed like a spa attendant, in a uniform that almost looked like a nurse’s own.Loose white trousers, cream, comfortable cut top that stopped at the hips, neckline all the way up, stopping at the top of the neck, with white buttons in a diagonal line from base of the throat to the bottom of the shirt.No hold anywhere. ‘Breasts’ could not be identified, and a bulge in the neck could not be clearly spotted.Another attendant, same androgenous look, same uniform, approached with a tall glass of water and a smile that would pass as welcoming in any other establishment, anywhere else in the world, but for me was worse than having a gun in my face.My body moved by itself.I spun.I pulled on the door handle. The fucking thing did not budge. Not even a tremor. It was not a door; it was the entrance to a cage, and I was trapped.==========Jayden’s POV.I sent a message to Marcus as soon as I got into the car.
“I’ll take care of –”“Pleeeassee,” he stressed, his face red, his breath coming in short gasps.I sat back, still on him.“What’s wrong?” I tilted my head slightly, my shoulders slouching.“This, Jayden. This
An energy drink, a towel, and a few other items I had treated in advance – lotions, plasters, disinfectant sprays – in case he managed to avoid the water, were also ready; insurance for what had to get done.This wasn’t about pleasure or messing with the kid for fun; I wa
I reined it in as my angel glowered. Wheezing, I continued, “Don’t fight him. It won't end.”Marcus was eyeing me now. Some fire had left his eyes, but not all of it.A tremor crossed his brow, and he narrowed his eyes at me. “I can’t handle him… But you can?” he rumbled.I s
I was sweating profusely. I couldn’t breathe. I was making sounds that sounded more like snorts than groans.“Deep breath, Jay, breathe, then speak.”I spun, like lightning. I stared, my mouth falling open.He was gazing at me. Directly in my eyes. My angel. His face was pass







