Chapter 8 #2
I talked to Kingsley too. He doesn’t believe Tate’s been involved. Tate was home with him the entire night, they went to bed together, and Kingsley woke him up in the morning. We’re still gonna interrogate him, in case he’s involved, but we don’t think he was there to spray-paint the house.
I don’t have many details on Nora and Macklin yet.
The noose was tightening around Shay, in other words.
I texted back.
And you’re sure you don’t wanna interrogate Shay yourself?
“Why is your man’s nose stuck in his phone, Sir?” Macklin asked. Nate, presumably. “Are we not entertaining him enough?”
I chuckled under my breath, right when Reese replied.
I can’t. I’ll watch behind the glass, but on the off chance that he slips into his Middle space, he’ll be too vulnerable for me to pressure.
Understandable.
“…waiting to approach James and Jordan,” Nathan was saying.
“Why not go over there now?” Lane wondered.
Nate smiled faintly. “Because waiting for us and wondering where we are will make their minds spin. We want their feathers a little ruffled.”
Walker chuckled approvingly and took a sip of his drink.
“Freaking Sadists,” Lane huffed.
Ty smirked and draped an arm around Lane’s shoulders. “Are you sayin’ you don’t love Sadists, baby?”
“We’re not talking about me now,” Lane insisted.
I squeezed Nate’s hand. “I reckon we’ve let the guys suffer enough. What do you think?”
“Hey, I was waiting for you,” he chuckled.
“Enjoy, gentlemen.” Walker tipped his glass. “We’ll probably see you later. Reese has been telling everyone you’ll be puttin’ on a show in the rope dojo.”
Oh, had he? Fuckin’ Tenleys.
“Great—thanks for the pressure,” I muttered.
They found that too funny for my liking, particularly Macklin, but Nate dragged me away. Otherwise, I would’ve had a sharp comeback.
We managed to get behind James and Jordan, and with only a few feet left, we zeroed in on our targets. Nate went for James, and I aimed for the little one.
The club was almost full at this point, and the music was blasting through the air.
Possessiveness surged through me, because this was it. Tonight, we were making them ours. Tonight, we claimed ownership.
The last thing I saw of Nate was when he went to grip James by the neck. After that, I put all my focus on Jordan and dipped down to speak in his ear.
“Are you looking for Daddy, little one?”
He gasped and spun around, eyes wide behind the mask, which…sparkled. Dark blue glitter and gloss made up the whole thing.
“You s-scared me, Daddy!” Maybe so, but he jumped into my arms right after, so it couldn’t be too bad. “I missed you!”
God.
I closed my eyes and squeezed him to me. “Daddy’s here now, sweetheart.”
He shivered violently. “Where’s Mister Rigg—oh.” He glanced over to where Nate and James were forehead to forehead, and whatever Nate was saying made James nod dutifully.
That was sexy as hell.
Jordan shivered again and locked his arms around my neck. “You look like you’re on the prowl, Sir.”
“I am.” I kissed his cheek, lingering there. “I’m on the prowl for a sweet little boy who’s ready to beg for Daddy’s big cock.”
“Oh my gosh,” he whimpered.
I grabbed his jaw and kissed him hard, letting all my pent-up desire rush forward, because we were done holding back. So fucking done. The masks couldn’t be more in the way, so I removed his and then my own. We weren’t here to win a Game, so fuck it. We could break a rule.
In fact, we were going to break two.
“Where’s your overnight bag?” I murmured.
“Um.” The boy was damn near shaking in my arms, and he went back for my mouth. “Upstairs. We hid it.”
Good. I kissed him deeply and cupped his face in my hands, teasing his tongue with mine, until he was panting and trying to climb me.
“Show us,” I ordered, my voice barely audible over the song playing. “We need to talk for a moment too.”
He swallowed, cheeks flushed and eyes wild with need. “Yes, Sir.”
The upstairs would be a good place to talk too. Not many would be up there this early, and we wouldn’t have music trying to blow out our eardrums.
I grabbed his hand and turned to Nate, right when he nudged James toward the wide doorway.
The four of us headed up to the second floor together, and we walked straight to Room 8.
Three sleeping spots, each one elevated and the size of two king-sized beds, were right where we’d left them yesterday.
“See that bed by the podium?” I pointed. Jordan nodded. “That’s where we’re sleepin’ tonight.”
“All four of us? Together?”
I inclined my head.
He lit up. “Oh my gosh. And the other beds?”
I pointed to the next one. “Greer, Sloan, Archie, and Corey. And the one closest to the door—Lucian, Cam, KC, and Noa.”
“Eeep! Noa and Corey are my friends, Daddy!”
I’d said it a hundred times already, and I’d probably say it another two million before the year was over, but he was just too fucking adorable for words. A level that actually made me react physically. I couldn’t explain it. It was a…a…hit to the feels.
“I know, and you can all cry together tonight when your Owners won’t stop fucking you.”
His mouth popped open, and he stared up at me.
I smirked to myself and steered him to what was gonna be our bed tonight. Plenty of pillows and comforters waited for us—and I had half a mind to stay here right now.
James must’ve been ordered to fetch their overnight bag, because he set it on the bed.
“Did you find everything we asked for?” I wondered.
“Yes, boss.” He unzipped the bag.
“Then get crackin’,” I said. “It’s a black-tie event. We can’t disappoint.”
All our masks were off at the moment, and I wished they could stay that way.
“Aren’t we technically breaking the rules, though?” Jordan asked, unbuttoning his shirt. “And also, I’m pretty sure it said black-tie optional. Otherwise, you must wear a tuxedo. Them’s the rules.”
“A brat talking about rules,” I chuckled. “It’s like when Noa tried to teach me about responsibility.”
Jordan huffed.
“Instead of a brat talking about rules, maybe it’s a makeup artist knowledgeable about dress codes,” Nathan offered.
I furrowed my brow. “Whose side are you on?”
“In this case? His.” Without giving me time to respond, he folded his arms over his chest and turned to James and a smug Jordan.
“While you two get changed, we want to know if there’s anything sexual that’s off-limits.
We won’t do anything risky tonight—like asphyxiation or higher levels of pain from whips and canes and so on—but if there’s something you haven’t told us yet, do so now. ”
“I might want my hand around your throat, but I won’t apply pressure,” I clarified. “And Jordan, you’ve said you love spanking.”
“So much.” He nodded eagerly. “I like crying from spanking. That’s a good cry.”
I smiled. We could make that happen, even more so if he flashed his smug grin my way again.
“James?” Nate walked over to him and actually took over, undoing his belt. “Is there anything Ash and I can’t do to you?”
James ducked his gaze a little. “I can’t think of anythin’, Sir. I’m not much into pain, but you already know that.” Right, because Jordan was good at communicating. “I’m here to please you.”
Good time for him to read his own text to us, then.
That would please me.
I handed over my phone to Nate, who unlocked it and found the message.
“Read it out loud,” he commanded quietly.
James released a breath.
In the meantime, Jordan jumped into his black onesie jammies. No animal ears this time, just a hood. But what I noticed the most was the hesitation in his expression. Was he withholding something?
“Jordan?” I tilted my head.
He made eye contact and chewed on his lip.
Hmm. Definitely something.
I nodded to the Finlay bed, silently telling him to come with me. James could read to Nate.
Ten feet away, I sat down on the edge of the bed, and Jordan shuffled closer with reluctance lacing every step.
“Is there something you wanna tell me, sweetheart?”
He pouted and slumped down next to me. “Maybe, but it’s embarrassing.”
I rubbed his back soothingly, waiting him out. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?
“James says I have to tell you,” he whispered.
“Is it something I should know?” I murmured.
He made a face and nodded.
“Then let’s listen to James just this once.”
My joke fell flat, and he hugged my arm, seemingly only so he could hide his face by pressing it against my bicep. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t even begin to guess.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, Jordan.”
“Ohhh!” he whined. Huffed a little too. “I…I don’t like to swallow.”
Oh. Was that…embarrassing?
He started a hushed ramble. “Like, I love fantasies about breeding and Daddy coming all over me, even my face, and I like to choke, you know? But the taste and texture of, you know, a full, um, load… I just—” He almost gagged right there.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I pulled him to me and kissed the top of his head. Precious boy, he had no reason to be embarrassed by something like that. Christ.
“James loves to swallow if that makes up for it,” he said in a small voice.
“Jordan—sweet boy. Listen to me.” I wriggled my arm free and cupped his face in my hands. “The only thing you need to make up for is acting like it’s wrong to have preferences and limits. You hear me? There’s absolutely nothing embarrassing about that.”
He still wouldn’t look me in the eye. “But most people can do it, and I’ve heard some say that you’re not as good at being a sub if you can’t take care of your Dom that way.”
“Well, those people are fucking idiots,” I told him seriously. Fuck, that pissed me off. “Submission comes from your heart and your mind, not your ability to take a load down your throat.”
Whether he was ready or not, a giggle slipped out, and he promptly slapped a hand over his mouth.
“There’s that gorgeous smile. Let Daddy see it.”
He dropped his hand and squirmed.