Chapter 40 Hunter
HUNTER
He shot me a scathing look, which confirmed everything I needed to know.
The committee had invoked the termination clause in his contract and most likely bought out his equity share in the firm.
Them choosing me over him was a bold statement to my skill and dedication to the firm, and it was also a vote of confidence that was not lost on me.
Winters left the conference room next, the other partners in tow.
He greeted me with a definitive nod of his head, which I returned before slipping out of the office and heading for the elevator.
Downstairs in my car, I texted Lincoln to let him know the happy news, and I sent him an extra message for good measure letting him know just what I planned to do to him once I got home from dinner.
He replied to me with a grinning devil and a picture of his asshole, black plug splitting his cheeks and all.
That man was going to be the death of me, and I would welcome each and every one of my final breaths.
When I made it to Cunningham’s, Marshall and Finn were already there. It was unusual for Smith to be absent, but I chalked it up to traffic on a Friday. Sliding into my usual seat beside Finn, I jabbed my elbow into his ribs.
“Scott Shaw separated from the firm today,” I said.
Finn let out a whoop, raising his glass and waiting for me and Marshall to cheers him. They’d already ordered for me and Smith, which was one of the things I appreciated the most about them.
“It does feel wrong to celebrate someone’s demise,” Marshall said after taking a swallow of his wine.
“He brought it on himself,” Finn reminded, and I nodded my agreement.
The party had been two weeks ago, and it had simultaneously been the longest and shortest fourteen days of my life.
We’d expeditiously finished moving Lincoln into the house, which had ended with a Silas and Lincoln slumber party in the guest room.
Marshall had assured me I’d get used to it, and I believed it.
Lincoln was so safe with me, he didn’t feel the need to hide his affection for his best friend—or my youngest brother—and I was beyond grateful we’d found each other and I was able to give him that.
He deserved so much more than anything I’d ever be able to provide, but I was happy to continue trying to prove myself the kind of man he told his friends I was.
Smith bustled into the restaurant, sinking down into the empty space at Marshall’s left. He had on an oversized hoodie, which was out of character for him, and I arched a brow in question, but Finn was the one to ask him, “Whose hoodie?”
Smith plucked at the well-worn material and shrugged. “I’ve had it since college. I don’t know where I got it.”
I narrowed my eyes, but the flush on Smith’s cheeks was enough to let me know it was a conversation he didn’t want to have.
If I respected Finn enough to not press about Neil and Annette, I had to respect Smith enough to not ask where he’d stumbled across a three-sizes-too-large hoodie for a college none of us went to.
“How was work?” I asked instead.
Smith swirled his wine and took a drink. “It was work.”
“Do you still hate it?” Marshall asked.
He scratched the side of his neck and gave us all another weak shrug. “I don’t know. Depends on the day.”
“That feels normal,” Finn said, earning a smile, so he kept talking. “That piece of crap from Hunter’s firm got shit-canned today.”
My brother’s brows lifted toward his hairline.
“The trash takes itself out or something,” I said.
My phone buzzed against my thigh, and I pulled it out to find a text message from Lincoln, another picture.
This time he had on short black shorts and a black leather harness with a mesh top that didn’t even reach his navel piercing.
It looked like he might have on eyeliner, but the lighting was dark and the picture was taken in a mirror.
He was in the bathroom at Rapture, Silas beside him with his arm slung over Lincoln’s shoulders.
Marshall checked his phone next, undoubtedly getting the same photo. We both set out phones down on the table, and Smith frowned at mine.
“What?” I asked.
“Is that Lincoln?”
“He’s out with Silas. They spend Fridays together since Marshall and I are here.”
“Where are they?” Smith asked.
Marshall made a choked sound in the back of his throat, and I was quickly reminded of the awkward conversations I’d been forced to have at the start of my and Lincoln’s relationship about our proclivities and how they aligned with his best friend and my oldest brother.
But Lincoln and Smith were friends, they’d been intimate, and there were probably little to no secrets between them.
“Rapture,” I answered.
Marshall looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die, but that must have been a side effect that came from being an elder millennial with younger siblings.
“Oh,” Smith said, another shrug.
Finn leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. He smiled sweetly at our baby brother. “Have you been?”
“Have you been?” Marshall asked.
“Don’t assume you’re the only person in town who likes kinky sex, Marshall,” Finn answered, which had Smith mirroring the choking sound Marshall had just made himself.
“I’ve been,” Finn said conversationally, like we were talking about going to the park on the weekend. “I’m sure Hunter has been. Marshall, obviously. I don’t know if this is genetic or not, but—”
“I’ve been!” Smith blurted, maybe louder than he’d intended.
“I don’t want to know,” Marshall muttered.
Smith threw him a sidelong glance and turned his attention back to his wine.
“Do they want to make you an equity partner now that Shaw is out?” Finn asked, and I was grateful for the change in conversation.
“I’m happy with the current terms,” I answered.
And I was.
Two weeks, and everything in my life had settled into everything I’d never dreamed could be mine.
Watching Marshall fall in love with Silas had been agony, not because he didn’t deserve it, but because it had drawn into such a startling clarity how much I did.
After a life spent pretending I didn’t care about that kind of partnership, Lincoln had come into my life like a hurricane and proved me wrong in a thousand different ways.
I was glad he was mine. Glad I would get to go home to him at the end of the night.
The rest of dinner passed as it had before, with friendly conversation about work and life.
We were supposed to see Andrew again in a couple of weeks.
He’d endeared himself permanently with our three other brothers after he’d laid Shaw out in front of everyone at the party, and the group chat hadn’t quieted down ever since.
At the end of the night, I said my goodbyes to Marshall and Finn, the latter looking like he’d finally recovered from the heartache over Neil and Annette.
I wished he would tell Marshall because he’d always been better about matters of the heart than me, hence why he’d been the sounding board for all of us, Lincoln included.
But I respected it wasn’t something he wanted to share.
Maybe someday it would matter enough to him, but I knew once Finn fell in love again, it would be for the last time.
He was witty and whip smart, but his heart was the biggest of the five of us, and it could only bear the weight of so much repair before it collapsed entirely.
When it was time to say goodbye to Smith, he hesitated, weight shifting from one foot to the other.
“What’s up?” I asked, knowing he needed the prompting.
“Can I come over?”
I thought about the laundry list of vile and depraved things I’d planned to do with Lincoln upon his return from Rapture, then mentally folded it in half and slid it into my pocket.
“Always, but what’s up?”
“I just…”
“Of course,” I assured him. “No explanation needed.”
I wanted more than anything to ask why Smith had attached himself to me not Marshall, but I suspected Marshall might be part of the problem.
Not that he’d done anything wrong, but I had the distinct impression Smith was desperate to break out of the shadow he’d stepped into, and separating himself from Marshall was a huge part of that.
I told Smith I’d meet him at home, then fired off a text to Lincoln to let him know not to burst into the door naked and ready to fuck.
My boyfriend didn’t seen fazed at all that another Covington was going to be in the house upon his return, and I thought about that the whole drive home.
Again, the comfort, the welcome, the safety that Lincoln had brought out in me, that I’d been able to share with not just him but also my brothers.
At the apartment, I fed Feeny and dug out some pajamas for Smith. He changed in the guest room and came back out, hoodie still on—which was suspicious.
“Did you want me to turn the heater on?” I asked.
He shook his head, and I wondered if his neck was covered in hickeys or something else that he wanted to keep hidden.
Not that it mattered, so I poured us both a drink and together we settled in on the couch.
I gave him the remote and let him put on a show.
It took an entire episode, but Smith finally relaxed.
Three hours later, Lincoln made it home. He gave me a kiss on the lips, then kissed Smith on the corner of his mouth, and promptly dragged me off to the bedroom, laughing the whole way. Smith took it in stride, assuring me he’d turn off the lights and lock up when he was ready to call it a night.
Lincoln kicked the door to my bedroom closed behind us and made quick work of stripping out of his clothes.
His shorts were around his ankles, harness still strapped across his upper body when he bent over the bed and spread his ass cheeks apart, giving me an up close and personal view of the plug he’d sent a picture of earlier.
“I need you, Daddy,” he whimpered.