Chapter 23 The Ruse
The Ruse
Ernest
Lawrie lay still, his feet propped up on the armrest. I stroked his arm lightly, saying nothing. I hoped he’d be able to take a short nap, but I could hear from his breathing that he was awake.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked after a long silence.
“Me? Why are you asking me?”
“Because you were freaking out before.”
I blew out a breath. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Answer the question.”
“I love you, Lawrie. Love you like crazy. I’m just happy you’re not hurt.”
He pulled my hand to his face and kissed my palm. He held it to his cheek, and I closed my eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
By the time the FBI arrived, Lawrie looked dead on his feet.
Of course, he answered all questions with perfect clarity.
An hour went by before the men in suits and uniforms left us alone and marched outside instead, dragging tapes around the copter and making a further mess of Davidson’s lawn.
Davidson had a long conversation with Agent Lewandowski, who turned out to be a dragon omega in his sixties with bright red hair and a slight accent.
We left them in the study and rested in Davidson’s living room. This time, Lawrie did fall asleep—it was after two already—but he jerked awake when Davidson entered the room.
“They’ve built a tent outside,” he groused instead of a greeting. He headed straight for the bar. As a shifter, he couldn’t really get drunk, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
“Are they going to arrest Burnes?”
“Not unless they have reasonable proof it was him, which means talking to all of the staff who were at the hangars.”
“That will take days.”
Davidson threw back a shot of whiskey and poured himself another one. Then he sank into a sofa opposite us. Lawrie sat up, rubbing his face. “Can’t we do anything?” he mumbled.
“Aaron Paulson, the chairman, is calling an emergency board meeting tomorrow morning. Burnes will be invited.”
“Do you think you can make him admit anything?” I asked. “That’s unlikely.”
“Just seeing me alive won’t be enough. I’d have to truly provoke him.”
“How about we let Mr. Burnes think you’ve crashed?” Lawrie said.
Leaning against the sofa backrest, Davidson measured him with his cold gaze. “I guess you did deserve the raise.”
“You don’t pay me half of what I’m worth, sir.”
Lawrie really didn’t need my interference when dealing with Davidson.
“If Mr. Paulson calls Mr. Burnes about the emergency meeting without going into specifics, Burnes might assume his plan worked,” Lawrie continued.
“Tomorrow, on his way to the board meeting, he’ll see me.
Let’s say I’m visibly upset, red-rimmed eyes, black shirt…
And I drop a few hints on the way to the meeting.
He’ll be certain you’ve tragically passed away without any of us actually having to lie.
If he walks into the meeting convinced you’re dead, the likelihood of him saying something stupid is quite high, isn’t it? ”
Davidson gave Lawrie one of his rare smiles. My mate was brilliant, as usual.
“Harry Burnes won’t be able to contain his giddiness if he thinks he’s got control over the company. I’ll have to carefully instruct Aaron so he’s prepared. And I better invite Lewandowski to headquarters tomorrow.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” Lawrie asked.
“We’ll still try to get him for attempted sabotage. It’ll just take more time to convince the board.”
“So now that we have a plan, can I get my mate somewhere he can sleep for a few hours?” I said, already getting up. Enough was enough.
“I’ve already called my driver. He’s waiting outside for whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you, sir,” Lawrie said, smiling softly.
Davidson looked away. Was he embarrassed?
It was almost three when we finally collapsed into our bed. I spooned Lawrie and held him to me, soaking up his scent.
It would take me a long time to get over what happened today. The possibility of losing Lawrie, so soon after I’d found him, mangled my brain.
“I’m fine, Ernest,” he said. “Let me breathe, please.”
“Oh, sorry.” I was squeezing him again.
He rolled in my arms and shuffled up the bed, offering me his chest. The lover’s milk would soon dry up, but this morning, I’d still been able to lure some out. Now, Lawrie cupped my cheek, gently leading me to his nipple.
“Come here.”
It worked.
Once I sucked his flesh into my mouth, relief flooded my entire being. He petted my hair, soothing me, taking care of me…loving me. The drops of sweet milk made my groin throb, but I didn’t need fucking. I only needed to be held.
Lawrie offered me his other nipple and sighed when I sucked it hard, making the milk squirt into my mouth.
“We’re alive, Ernest. You saved me,” my Lawrie murmured.
“You’ve been incredible today. My hero. It feels so nice when you do this to me.
Love your mouth on me. Your tongue. Just like this.
Does it taste good?” When I hummed, he scratched my scalp, sending tingles down my spine.
“You keep taking care of me, Ernest. But I’ll take care of you, too. I’ll give you what you need.”
He nursed me for the longest time, whispering calming words and praising me for making him feel good. He hugged my head to his chest, and I all but melted in his arms, half-asleep. The rhythmical pulls of my mouth must have become purely instinctual.
“I love you so much, Ernest. You can sleep. I’ll hold you.”
I fell asleep with his hands in my hair and my lips around his nipple.