Chapter 12
ELGIN
Over the next week, Ara entertains me but also drags me along to his meetings. I’ve become a staple there. No one bothers to give me a wary look anymore, almost as if I belong.
I think I’m a distraction for Ara, though. His hand inevitably ends up wrapped around my dick during the meeting, which leads to him kicking everyone out and then sucking me down until I’m screaming for mercy.
For the record, I’m very clearly a slut for butt things. He takes it a little further every time. Deeper. More intense. While there’s some discomfort and burning that comes with it, the way I feel like I’m tied to an electric chair that does nothing but pulse in pleasure is un-fucking-real.
This leaves Ara mighty pleased with himself, but I’m never in any state of mind where I can get that smug smile from his face after. I’m pretty sure he kills me with each orgasm. It’s not a bad way to go.
Today starts out the same as every other.
I wake to Ara’s hand on my cock and jerk myself into it until I cover the inside of my bedpants.
Honestly, I’ve never had so much sex in my life.
It’s any man’s dream to wake up and immediately feel pleasure shuddering through him.
Then fall asleep on the tail end of an orgasmic high every night.
Ara never asks for anything in return. Never so much as hints.
I haven’t gotten brave enough thus far to initiate it.
Maybe he doesn’t like to be touched. Some people don’t.
It’s a thing. Besides the one time in his office a week ago when he shoved his whole dick down my throat, I’ve never seen this man get off.
I step out of the closet, pulling a shirt over my head. This is only the second time I’ve gotten my own clothing. Usually, Ara has it set out for me in the bathroom by the time I get out of the shower.
“Not that one,” Ara says as he gets to his feet. He was sitting in a chair dressed like a mob boss, but he’s now crossing the room toward me.
Looking down at the shirt, I don’t find it stained or ripped. “What’s wrong with this one?” I ask.
Ara doesn’t answer as he comes out with a different shirt.
“Seriously. Does it belong to an ex or something? Is it a kill trophy?”
He gives me a demure look as he pulls the offending shirt over my head. I don’t argue because, really, it’s just a shirt. What do I care? The one he holds out for me buttons, so I slip it on and button the shirt to the collar. He unbuttons the top two.
I raise a brow at him and contemplate buttoning them again. “I know these clothes don’t fit you. We’re not the same size. Where are they from? Who do they belong to?”
“They’re mine,” he says.
“I’d like to see you fit into this shirt,” I tell him. “Better yet, I want to see you in these pants.” His thighs would make any hockey player proud.
“If you want to see my dick again, just say so,” Ara says.
I flush because, uh, yeah, I kind of do.
I’ve felt it. Oh boy, have I felt it pressed against me.
But he never takes it out except for the one time!
I didn’t get to look at it as I secretly wanted to.
Instead, he shoved it down my throat and…
My cheeks flush at the memory. I don’t answer as he pulls me from the room.
We eat breakfast in the same way we always do.
Ara pulls my chair out and then sits beside me.
He fills my plate before getting food for himself.
There are times I want to ask about it. To tease him about it, at the very least.
I don’t. Maybe because I really sorta, kinda like it. I’m afraid he’ll stop, and I don’t want that.
So I eat in silence as I listen to the quiet chatter at the table. There aren’t any phones out. There never are. They have conversations about anything, but there are never electronics allowed at the table.
It’s… nice. Familiar, even. It reminds me of the Hatters. We’re a family of sorts and definitely do this very thing when we have downtime.
I find myself smiling into my plate as I eat. The food is always very good. There must be a cook, though I never see who it is. Maybe they take turns.
We don’t start out in the conference room this morning.
Instead, Ara takes me out back, and we hop on a four-wheeler to join a group of his men in the woods.
There are game cameras all over, and they’re doing their daily change out of drives or whatever.
It doesn’t take me long to figure out that Ara and I are just along for the ride.
We’re not needed, nor are we involved in the process at all.
I sit behind him on the four-wheeler, arms wrapped around his stomach. I tried to sit upright and grip the rack behind me, but Ara pulled me forward to wrap my arms around him. When we started off, his hand stayed over my arms as if he didn’t trust that I’d keep them there.
His fingers lace with mine after the second stop, and my face flushes. I can’t remember the last time I held someone’s hand. Wow. When was my last girlfriend? Or last date, even? When did I become such a recluse?
We pause, and I watch one of the guys change out the little disk in the camera strapped to a tree.
“What are you hoping to catch on the cameras?” I ask.
“This part of the property is open—not secure inside the fence. We’re looking for anything, really. Squatters. People snooping. Idiots like Empire who think they’re brave enough to cross onto my property and make a statement.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have security.”
“I do. You can learn a lot about people when they think you don’t, though.”
“Huh.”
We take off again, and Ara brings our linked hands between his legs. My blood burns as he leads my hand into cupping his junk. He’s hard. I try to wiggle away from him a little to hide the way my dick chubs in response. We’re not fucking on the four-wheeler.
I try to ignore where he has my hand, especially when our group stops at another camera, and also feel him.
This is the most my hand has been on his cock.
Oh. And his balls. He just dropped our linked hands deeper into his crotch, where I’m now cupping his full sac.
Heavy. Big? Everything about Ara feels big.
When we return to the barn and climb off, Ara runs his fingers through my hair, putting the unruly strands back in place. I’m breathless. There’s a heated charge between us. A current that’s gaining voltage. I can see in his eyes that he feels it too.
“Boss.”
Ara turns his attention away but pulls me close to him. His hand grips my hip firmly. Possessively. I hide my smile against his big arm.
“There’s a call from HQ.”
Ara nods. I expect him to leave me behind or send me back to the bedroom or something. But he just hauls me along, and before I know it, we’re sitting where we usually are in the conference room.
Jalon is on the screen. His eyes unmistakably flicker to me, but he doesn’t address me or my presence. He gets right down to business. At first, I’m not entirely sure what we’re talking about until I hear ‘Empire.’ But maybe we’re not always talking about them.
I do as I was told and don’t speak during the call. Mostly, no one but Ara does. Sometimes, Ara will call on someone else, but it’s primarily between the two Van Dorens.
It’s a long call, and I have come to a very important conclusion. All those businesses that fall under the Van Doren umbrella? They may just be a cover-up for a very different kind of organization. I’m not sure if it’s criminal or… something else. It’s clear that Jalon is aware of what’s going on.
When the call ends, that’s not what I ask.
“You’re related to him, how?” I blurt before anyone else can speak.
Ara chuckles. “Jalon is my brother.”
That answer doesn’t exactly surprise me. I’ve heard him call Jalon brother before. But I’ve also heard him call other guys in the house brother, too. Although I haven’t gotten an answer to this question to date, I try again. “And what do you do for him?”
He studies me for a minute. I’m not expecting an answer, so I’m completely shocked when I get one. “Many things. Primarily, I head the operation that takes down issues within the city.”
“Philly?”
Ara nods. “Yes. We have a few brothers, and they do the same around the US. Our reach concentrates in whatever city we live in, but also extends to some surrounding areas as needed.”
“Like New York?”
He snorts. “No. I have a brother in New York.”
“You’re… vigilantes?”
“Contract killers,” he says, and my heart jumps.
“You’re criminals,” I say.
“Yes and no. More times than you’d probably like to know, we’re hired by the government to eliminate an actual criminal. They pay us to get rid of the gangs and crime lords within the cities we live in when the means for them to do it aren’t available. Due to staffing, evidence, whatever.”
“You’re…”
“Don’t think too hard on it,” Ara says, as his hand lands on my leg and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
This touch isn’t meant to be sexual. It’s reassuring.
“Killing another person is illegal, yes. But in some sense, we have permission to do it. In some cases, we’re exacting an eye for an eye.
And in cases like this, where they would kill you if they could get at you, we’re stepping in to prevent the situation from escalating. ”
I nod, unsure what to make of this information. When I don’t follow up with another question, the meeting continues around me. Ara’s hand remains firm on my leg but stays completely stationary. I’m not sure if he’s wrapped up in the conversation or letting me reflect on what I just learned.
They kill people. Illegally legal. I’m sitting in the room with a bunch of killers? My gaze flicks around the room, looking at each face, wondering how many people they’ve killed. How many people has Ara killed?
I’m so lost in thought that when I eventually look up, Ara and I are alone in the conference room. The monitor is off entirely. Not even the bouncing Van Doren logo looks back at me.
“Sorry,” I say.
Ara pushes our chairs back and pulls me up from mine.
He pushes me against the table, boxing me in with his hands on either side of my hips, and drops to his knees.
His face is stupidly close to my dick, which seems to always want to wave at Ara for attention.
Now is no different, even though my mind is moving a hundred miles per hour.
“You okay?”
I sigh. “Yeah. I guess… I wasn’t expecting that. I kind of thought you’d ignore my question.”
He shrugs. “I could have, but I thought maybe it was time to let you in.”
“Why?”
His eyes hold mine, and this question he decides not to answer. Instead, he licks his lips, his gaze dropping to my growing erection. “Let’s talk about that later. I’d really like to feast on you right now.”
As much as I’d like to keep this conversation going, I know that once he touches me, it’s over. I have no self-control at all. And I don’t want any. I love the way he makes me feel.
“Okay,” I say.
He smiles at me, his eyes already glazed. I have a feeling that we’re going to be here a while, and when we’re done, I’m going to need a cough drop from screaming until I’m hoarse.