Chapter Nine
Hallstein
You can do this .
Of course I could. I’d had sex before. With men. Only with men, in fact. Only…not that frequently. And not since my injury.
The leg will hold. You can do fifty leg presses.
And was pretty shaky by the end of that. But this would be different.
Or so I told myself.
Myles jiggled his ass.
I smiled. I’d spent the entire weekend thinking about him. Looking up all his set-decorator credits. Finding his address online and doing a street view of Lower Lonsdale. Not stalking, though, I told myself. Just…curiosity.
And about fifty times I’d picked up my phone to text, but hadn’t. Because this was work. He was work. I never mixed work with pleasure.
“Today, Hallsy.”
As much as I hated the moniker, I was kind of getting used to it. I’d never had anyone in my life who cared enough to give me an actual nickname.
Slowly, I slipped my hand under his shirt and ran it up and down his spine.
He shivered.
I trailed both hands down his flanks and to his hips.
He shifted.
I slid my index finger into his ass.
He tightened, then relaxed.
I added a second finger, then scissored and opened him even more.
He sighed in obvious contentment, pushing back against me.
With my wrist angled just the perfect way, I brushed my finger over his spongy spot.
“Oh God, baby. That is good. But I want your cock. I need your cock. Give it to me. All of it. Right now.” He moaned the words.
Then, as if I’d done this a million times before, I lined myself up. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, I pushed in. I met with a bit of resistance, but that eased when my crown was all the way in. The tightness—the pressure—around my cock intensified as I pressed in farther.
“Oh yeah, Hallsy, that’s so goddamn good.”
I chuckled to myself as I pressed in as far as I could go.
“Now fuck me, baby, okay?”
Him and his nicknames. Baby? For fuck’s sake—
He shifted.
Light exploded before my eyes, and I damn nearly tipped over the edge. Too damn long. I needed finesse while my body demanded immediate release.
“Anytime now…”
I pulled back, then thrust in.
He grunted, then pushed back. “More.”
“Yeah, okay.” I grasped his hips and did just that.
Over and over, I thrust into him. I pushed him higher and higher even as I chased my own orgasm.
Our grunts and harsh breaths bounced off the concrete walls and hit me.
The smell of sweat and sex permeated my senses.
My hands were slick as I clung to him and pushed in and out over and over again.
“Oh, uh, jerk yourself…” Because in no way could I have figured out how to do that while also drilling him against this rather ugly couch.
He snaked his hand around to his front and started tugging to the rhythm I set.
I had only a moment to wonder about where the cum would wind up before he shouted his release. His inner walls squeezed my cock and after two half-hearted thrusts, I came myself.
As my balls emptied, I held myself still, focusing on releasing my death grip on his hips. To my horror, I spotted bruises. They’d be covered by his jeans, but I didn’t like the idea of marking someone—especially when they hadn’t given me permission.
“Lordy, Hallsy, that was fantastic.”
Slowly, gently, I slid from him. I removed the condom, knotted it, and looked around for a trash can.
Except… Oh God, a cleaning staff would find it.
Someone would know what we’d done. I snagged a couple of tissues, wrapped it, and tucked it into my pocket.
I didn’t really want to have a used condom in my pocket all day.
I wracked my brain. If I put it in my sandwich wrapper and then put that in the garbage—
Myles, who’d been in the process of pulling his underwear and jeans back on stilled. “Did you hear that?”
“Did I hear what?” Blood was still rushing in my ears after one of the best orgasms in my life.
My limp dick still hung outside my pants.
My brain was still completely scrambled.
Or fried. Pick a metaphor. “We should get going.” I tucked my cock back into my dress pants and zipped up.
I gave myself a thorough once-over and was pleased not to find any cum stains. I tried to fluff my hair.
“Right. Okay.” Myles tucked himself in and zipped himself up. Then he grabbed a wad of tissues and wiped his hand.
Surreptitiously, I glanced at the plaid couch. Yep, if any cum landed on that fabric, there wasn’t a chance in hell anyone would ever know.
Myles shoved the tissues in his pocket. Then, before I could react, he grabbed the back of my head and yanked me down for a quick, hard kiss. “Next time I want to see you when you come.”
“Uh, right. Back at you.” Next time? I was barely over this time.
He moved to the door, opened it, and stuck his head out. “No one around. Okay just…walk normal.” He wrinkled his nose. “Act calm.”
Considering I’d just had a mind-blowing orgasm—the first in a very long time—I wasn’t certain I could remember what normal was.
Still, we walked back through the maze of corridors.
A bang had me pushing Myles down.
“What?” He tried to squirm out from under me.
"Get behind me.” I whispered the words as I slid my hand under my jacket and retrieved my gun.
"What? Oh my God. Why do you have your gun out?"
"Because there’s someone here. You said no one would be here."
"But…a gun?" He sounded genuinely confused. “Are those even legal?”
Since I had a conceal-and-carry permit as part of my job, it was legal. For me. For the general public, no—they couldn’t just carry a gun around. My jaw tensed. "What do you want me to use? My finger?"
"Your finger only works on me, and that's why we're in this mess..."
Funny, I seemed to recall him dragging me to the dressing room. Best orgasm of your life. I shook my head. "Shut up and get behind me—I can hear them."
“You're not going to shoot someone, are you?” He trembled as he clutched my back.
“I wasn't planning on it, but you tempt me. Now shut up.” I hissed that as we crept forward. I needed to get to the vase. I’d locked it in the locker, so it should’ve been safe. Or had I? Everything felt super vague at this point. You’re an idiot—thinking with your cock instead of your— “Shut up.”
Myles tapped me on the back. “I didn’t say anything.”
And I’d spoken aloud. Damn. Still as we inched our way down the corridor, the resounding silence continued.
This place was always abuzz with activity—the silence unnerved.
Finally, we arrived at the prop room. My gut instinct was to keep Myles outside while I did a sweep of the room, but I couldn’t guarantee his safety either way and, against all logic, I felt better with him clinging to my jacket. “Keep down.”
“Uh—”
Instead of giving him time to react, I pushed the door open, still hunched over, and swept my gaze—and gun—around the room.
Empty.
Myles barged past me and headed over to the locker. “Oh, crap, you know the combination. Can you open it?”
I couldn’t remember leaving it in the locker, but maybe I had? I advanced to the locker, then met Myles’s gaze. “Uh, look away?”
“Right.” He smacked himself on the forehead. When he went to move away, though, I pressed him so he was again behind me. Something still didn’t feel right.
After entering the code, I opened the locker and my heart sank. “Fuck.”
Myles peered in. “But…you locked it in, right?”
I replayed those moments after I first came in and he’d…
attacked me. Of course I’d locked the vase in the locker.
That was enough of a risk. But… Oh God, what if I hadn’t?
What if I’d thought it would be safe enough because no one was around and we were just going to be gone for a couple of minutes? Could I really be that stupid?
“Why would someone steal a vase?” Myles sounded genuinely perplexed.
I turned to face him. “I have three reasons, and each has the words million dollars after them.”
“Yeah, but everyone here really likes their job.” He wiped his forehead. “Am I going to get blamed for this? I knew I should've fought harder for them just to use a replica.”
“You're going to get blamed for something if you don't shut up and get behind me.”
The door to the props room creaked open.
I leveled my gun.
Sally, upon spotting me, screamed and pressed a hand to her chest.
Myles raced over to her. “Oh my God. Were you shot? Are they holding you for ransom? Oh my God. What will I wear to your funeral? I don't look good in black.”
“Someone's going to be having a funeral, and it's not Sally.” I holstered my gun, having figured the noise I’d heard was this woman. Although that didn’t explain the loud noise I’d heard earlier. “Breathe, Sally. You’re all right.”
The woman, who appeared on the verge of hyperventilating, kept breathing harshly. Still, she also appeared to be calming.
“Sally.”
She snapped her gaze to mine.
“Did you see anyone out there?”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “Everyone's still downtown. I left Coco in charge so I could come back here. Lisette wants Mirela to have a different briefcase in the next office scene. She thinks it’ll create a mystery. I don’t remember seeing any of that in the script, and I can’t figure out what mystery she’s talking about but…
” She gazed back and forth between the two of us, as if finally registering the situation. “What's wrong?”
“We think someone's stolen the Ming vase.”
“Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I didn't hear anything. I was in costuming. No one there either. If anyone stayed behind, they must be on lunch.”
“Did you come here first?”
“Well, duh.”
“So did you see the Ming vase? Or the box?”
“No. I was just clearing stuff away.” She scratched her forehead. “You’re telling me you’ve misplaced the vase?”
“We think it was stolen.” Myles voice betrayed a note of panic.
“Show me what you were doing.” I held my voice steady.
“I was just clearing the table.” She mimicked moving things to the shelves.
“Oh my God, look! There's the box.” Myles nearly jumped in clear excitement.
“What box? That's just some junk that some people dropped off before this morning’s shoot. I nearly tripped over the trunk. One of the buyers—”
But I was already seizing the box and moving it to the table. Slowly I opened it, holding my breath until I confirmed the vase was there. I lifted it to check the markings. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be.
“Oh, baby Jesus.” Sally shot out the words. “That was the box? With the vase? I almost dropped that.”
My heart seized.
Myles glared. “You didn’t realize? Hallstein’s been carrying that box around all last week.”
“Sure.” Sally shook her head, as if trying to dislodge something. “But I’ve never seen the box without Hallstein. I didn’t see him, so I just assumed the box was something else.” She pointed to the mess.
My sex partner winced. “Uh…”
Sally arched an eyebrow. “Hallstein isn’t even supposed to be here. Seamus told you to text him to ensure he didn’t come. Because of the fog, we raced down to the waterfront—”
My eyebrows shot up I turned to Myles. “You were supposed to text me?”
He examined his shoes with great scrutiny.
I looked down.
Oh my God, as he was so fond of saying. A drop of cum on the pristine white runner.
Sally was about to look down when I cleared my throat. Her gaze shot to mine. “I, uh…” I swallowed. “Let’s just keep this between us, okay? No harm, no foul? I’m such an idiot.” And I was. How the hell had I allowed this to happen?
“You’re human, and humans make mistakes.” Myles gazed at me. Then he spun his gaze back to Sally. “So, no sharing this little boo-boo.”
“Okay…” Her gaze swung between the two of us. “I was here for quite some time…and where, precisely, were you two?”
“Getting laid.” Myles headed for the table.
I opened my mouth to speak. No words came and, as Sally arched an eyebrow at me, I snapped my mouth shut.
“About bloody time,” she muttered.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus.