CHAPTER EIGHT #2
“Please call me Maddox.” I shoo away his formality with one hand while my other remains under my desk, petting Tessa’s hair. “There are too many Mr. Noires around here.”
He chuckles, his jowls quaking with levity. “Well, from where I’m sitting, there are just the right amount. I am hoping that all those Noire associations can help me out.”
Tessa’s grip is firm, her tempo steady, but she’s taking it easy, aiming for distracting rather than obliterating.
I appreciate that. And so far, I’m balancing this call with all the poise expected of me.
I’m not sure why I had any hesitation. This is an epic moment, one that belongs in a history book.
The kind you’d read when doing research in a smutty library, I suppose.
“Of course.” I smile—one part reassuring, one part demented, just to keep him in line. “Axel mentioned you had a concern about missing funds.”
“Yes,” he sighs. “One million.”
“That’s a lot of change to lose. How can I help? Do you have any serial numbers?”
“Well … it’s rather complicated.” He scratches his dyed chestnut beard, deliberating what he’s ready to share.
“We do have some serial numbers. I’ll get those to you, but it’s a lot more than missing money.
The loss has an associate, who I certainly do not want trouble with, believing I retaliated against them. ”
Ahh. Now we’re getting to it. He wants protection.
I pause long enough for him to believe I’m considering whether or not I’m willing to insert myself into a feud.
It also affords me a beat to soak in Tessa’s mouth.
She’s escalated to more aggressive teasing.
Her tongue circling the head. I might be a bigger fan of meetings than I originally thought.
This is every erotic secretary fantasy I didn’t even know I had come to life.
Focusing back on Mr. Lund, I roll my lips in and narrow my eyes in that contemplative way that makes a person feel heard.
“I understand the need to keep these things quiet, but the more information you can give me, the better chance I have of helping you get to the bottom of whatever the hell is going on. Would you mind telling me who the associate is?”
I am fucking nailing this—naughty temptress sucking me off and a member who will report to Axel that I handled this meeting with the utmost professionalism.
Mr. Lund clears his throat, hesitating in a way that warns me the name he’s going to divulge is of the mean-motherfucker variety. “Dimitri Makarov.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, straightening in my seat, my hips jolting forward from the shock of hearing the one name that makes my bones quiver.
But at the same moment those shock waves ripple through me, so does a zing from my balls drawing up because I accidentally forced my cock deeper into Tessa’s mouth.
She hollows out her cheeks, her seawater blues sparkling with evil triumph.
If this is her vision of winning, I’m all for it, but I can’t seem to bask in it because anything involving Makarov could lead to a goddamn death sentence for me.
This is why he’s visiting to talk about his son, like Bernard warned me.
It’s about as bad as this call could have possibly gone.
I need to stay calm and figure this out.
“I was afraid you’d receive the information that way …”
Mr. Lund’s voice fades to the background as a sharp pang seeps through one of my piercings. My attention shoots to Tessa as she tugs backward off me again, which feels so good and so bad at the same time. Her eyes widen in panic.
And that’s when it registers—there’s a tiny metal ball caressing the vein on the underside. Her tongue is pierced too.
Holy shit, are you stuck?
Understanding that frenzied telepathy, she nods and flattens her tongue with a sucking motion, trying to free herself, and I about lose it. The sensations are so contradictory; I can’t catch my breath. My fist tightens in her hair, holding her still and silently instructing her not to move.
I might be fucking psychic. I told her she’d be clinging to me. Shackling her tongue to my cock is a bit more extreme than I anticipated and kind of painful, but not unwelcome.
It does make me question my decision to go with captive bead rings for my Jacob’s ladder over the traditional barbells. I’ve always gotta be different.
“Did I lose you, Maddox?” Mr. Lund’s voice yanks me back to the call.
I swallow and shake my head. “No. I apologize. I’ve got a charley horse in my thigh.”
“Those are terrible,” he sympathizes in his booming tenor. “Stand up and walk that off, son.”
Ignoring the demeaning term of son, which he would never use with Axel or Ryker, I center my breathing.
“I definitely can’t stand up right now. I’ll just work through the pain.” My eyes latch to Tessa’s for a half beat so she knows I won’t be able to stop this call, but as I return to my meeting, I extend some mild reassurance. “Let’s try to wrap this up quickly though, shall we?”
“Sure.” He lights a cigar, puffing on it a few times, a marked irritation stiffening his shoulders. “Can I assume you’re out because the Makarovs are involved?”
I could go that route. It’s a conflict of interest since Dimitri Makarov is a member here as well. And we don’t get involved in wars, unless it’s to arbitrate negotiations on neutral ground. But I need more information for my own personal interest.
“It certainly puts us in a precarious position. We aim to avoid any entanglement with our members being at odds as much as we can.” I cough, hoping it loosens the piercing situation, but it only pulls at it more, which has a searing twinge rocketing through my limbs.
Tessa wedges her finger inside her mouth in an attempt to free it, to no avail.
It’s a tight fit. I’m not gonna lie; this is a quandary, but one I’d love to brag about.
It’s like big-dick energy and my dream girl worshipping me, to the point of gluing herself to my cock—the unfortunate subject matter of the meeting aside.
I’m dizzy from the pain. And the pleasure. My entire body’s blood supply is rushing to my ensnared member. I’m getting dumber by the second.
Stars flit before my eyes, but I push on. “As I’m sure you’d suspect, peace among opposing families and organizations only occurs about fifty percent of the time. What happens off property isn’t our business. But for the sake of being certain we can’t help, what does the money have to do with him?”
“As you know, my family has always conducted a fair amount of business in New Orleans. Well, a couple of years ago, my grandson was at Mardi Gras—”
“Excuse me one second while I switch my Bluetooth on.” I turn off the camera and speaker for a beat, slip one earbud in since I should’ve had that in to begin with, and look at Tessa. “Two more minutes, baby. Are you okay?”
Her lips tremble around me, which feels divine and unholy and so fucked up.
Even though she tried, I slide my finger inside her mouth, attempting to undo one of the piercings, but there’s no room to maneuver.
It only crowds everything and tugs at both of us harder, causing us both to hiss. We’ll have to wait.
Palming her head, I do my best to try to relax her. “You may have shown up here to screw with me, but we’re a team right now. I know your jaw and tongue probably hurt. At least you’re only choking on half of me.” I waggle my brows. “Try not to move, okay?”
She murmurs her agreement, swallowing some saliva as a small stream of drool trickles down her chin and her eyes water. The simple act has my dick twitching and my fists tightening from the stabbing prickle. A stifled throaty laugh floats out of her.
“You think that’s funny, huh, you little demon?” I thumb away a few of her tears, my chest aching with a foreign heaviness. “You really are such a good girl. I’ll be fast, but I have to finish this.”
Flipping the screen back on and adjusting my earpiece so the rest of this call is only between Mr. Lund and myself, I apologize again. “Sorry about that. Technical difficulties.”
“Right,” he replies with a skeptical glare.
“As I was saying, my grandson was going to Mardi Gras two and a half years ago, so he agreed to deliver a payment that we owed to the Makarov family to Dimitri’s son, Niko, who was also there that week.
He made the handoff and went back to his friends.
That was the same night Niko went missing. ”
The room spins. The impending doom of the dominoes crashing around me makes me sweat.
“That is unfortunate timing,” I manage, my gaze briefly flicking to the sexy girl who can’t seem to stop torturing me by hollowing her cheeks.
Despite the sting, she’s going to make me come on this damn call, unless the terror of the mess we’re in keeps me grounded.
“It is,” he agrees. “But I wasn’t worried about that until recently.
My grandson maintains that he paid Niko and went on his way.
Dimitri accepted that initially. He even thought maybe his son had partied too hard and decided to stay away for a bit, which was something he was known to do.
That’s why no investigation into his disappearance began for months. ”
“And when it did”—I gulp down both the anxiety ushering my question and the overwhelming urge to find a rhythm that will both free Tessa’s tongue and have her devouring my cum—“what did they find?”
“They have a witness, insisting someone saw Niko go into one of the row houses,” he begins, and the walls close in on me. “According to the witness, there was a black G-Wagon spotted there that night and some questionable activity surrounding it.”
I blow out a choppy breath, peer at Tessa, and stroke her hair with an unspoken promise to get us out of all the fuckery we are currently immersed in, even though she’s only aware of our piercing predicament, before returning to the screen.
“And other than the money, this points to your grandson how?”
“He was renting one of those row houses for the week and driving a black G-Wagon. But he swears he gave Niko the money and went back to the party, and I believe him.”
I wince at that because his grandson was not the only one who was driving a black Mercedes-Benz G-Class that night.
I covered my tracks, but that is an unfortunate detail that cuts too close.
Tessa grips my thigh in what appears to be comfort.
She must think that was a wince from the pain, which is still rough, but considering the picture Mr. Lund just painted, I barely notice it.
“Pardon the fuck out of my rudeness, Maddox.” He sneers my name, which catches me off guard because I am trying my damnedest to keep my shit together. He’s not impressed. “Is your charley horse more like a Charlotte?”
“Excuse me?” I snap.
“I’ve taken a meeting or two with a companion under my desk, but never when it was of this importance.” His tenor rises to a roar, stabbing my eardrum. “And never when this type of confidential information was being shared.”
I am good and truly fucked.
“You are mistaken, Vincent.” I flash a threatening scowl so he realizes beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will not be disrespected.
“But even if you weren’t, I’d caution you to watch your tone.
You came to us for help. I took time out of my day to listen.
And I’m considering all the angles, despite the fact that this is a massive conflict of interest for La Lune Noire. ”
A ring of smoke from his cigar wafts toward the screen before he grumbles his distaste for my dealings.
“While I appreciate the time and consideration, I would caution you not to play games. This is a serious matter. My grandson’s life is on the line.
The Noires are known for keeping their priorities straight. That’s what earns respect.”
My eyes drift to the gorgeous blues hitched to me, swimming in discomfort, and while she infuriates me and this deceitful seduction was a dirty move and I don’t understand all that’s happening between us, one thing is damn clear.
Returning to my disgruntled member—the La Lune Noire guy, not the body part—I illuminate my viewpoint. “You’re exactly right. Priorities in this business are vital. Let me attend to mine. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, I end the god-awful call and focus on the only thing that matters right now.