LOGINI knew Jade was not with him. My man had been out of the country for a few days.
And he had missed giving a report to Jade on Friday? A report on what? His experience? His views on the inspection? That’s a business relationship, however informal or relaxed it may be, I mused.
No, my brother was no gem to Jayden Malroy. The architect extraordinaire was taking his add-on role seriously, as he took all things when it came to his fucking family business.
Sir Sinclair
Jayden’s POV.“Hey, lovely.”“Hey.”“You don’t sound good, my lovely.”“I think… I just broke up with our boy.”“Didn’t you do that already?” she asked. I knew there was no spite in her question. My sister just didn’t do sugar coating well.I had walked away from Marcus a week ago. But it didn’t take. Now, he had pulled a wall down between us.I didn’t have the heart to try to fight it; it was what I wanted: space to work on my issue, then try to pick up the pieces when I was done, if that were possible.Somehow, what had just happened felt more final than my conscious attempt. Not as devastating to be sure, but this was colder.“My lovely?”“I’m here, sweets. I… I need Sorin.”“Oh?” She giggled.“Stop that!” I fake-whined.“I’ll get him. Should he come to you or…”I laughed lightly despite everything. “No. I’ve made a booking. Scour the route, please. I don’t need him falling into this
His lips pressed together, his gaze hardened. “I’ve told you, Malroy. I’m not your fucking mistress.”“And I’ve told you; do we have to discuss this?”He stood, so did I.“I don’t want a fight, Marcus.”“The fuck –”“I don’t! I won't allow it! I won’t let this happen!” I snapped at him.He stared at me, his chest heaving, his eyes burning through my skull.“I am who I have always been. I will not have Leon be a boogie man here! I will not! You have taken this step into my problem! And I accept you, as you are. Don’t question me. Don’t doubt me. I will cut my own head off before I see you in harm’s way in my name!”I waved a hand at his frame.“This,” I said, referring to his wounds, which he had kept very well hidden, “is not what I want! But I have marked it down as another debt.”“You,” I laughed lightly, even though there was no humor in it, “won’t let me go, huh? I have to keep paying you back for the rest of
Barry had given me an update before he left my room.When I called my boys, they followed our usual protocol: book rooms in random locations, not just one. Then, I’d show up at whichever spot I wanted.Barry had called Jay, letting him know I was going to a hotel, and Jay had told him which one to go to.He had not thought much about it at the time. He had been following me – well, my vehicle – and the general direction I was heading had matched the spot Jay had advised.But when he got there, and Jay was already outside, talking to some guy in a suit, who went in and came back out before he could get two words out to Jay, a bellhop uniform in hand.He had paused at that, but didn’t challenge anything. Traffic lights were slowing down my approach, but I could pull up at any time. He didn’t have the space to argue.He had changed clothes, and the lead desk clerk had pulled out a wheelchair and handed it to him the second he showed up in the l
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
It felt like a caged beast had been given freedom.I watched Marcus’ mirth, then he splashed cold water on my slowly burning mind and rose to leave. To leave me. Again.The fire scorched my soul.I grabbed his wrist. Only if he had chopped my hand off would I have let him go
Barry didn’t ask where I was, what I was doing, or when I’d be back. He really wasn’t an idiot.He already knew he couldn’t trace my number. He already knew I had access to people and things that he didn’t want to know about. But he had checked, numerous times over the years, that I wasn’t a rat. An
“Be safe, Martin. Please,” I mumbled, clearing my throat quietly.I waited. He sighed. “Okay,” he murmured.I hung up.Using the same line, I checked the messages on my regular phone remotely. I saw fifty chats from Adrian Sinclair.I read them all, then called, clonin
Information was my business. My currency. I used it more than I used my body, and that was a whole fucking bunch.I sold it, battered with it, threatened with it. Then, after I got used to the market, I negotiated with it, traded with it, and stored it.How Leon’s name never came up







