Chapter Seventeen

VANYA SINGH IS the first to arrive, camera in hand. She takes pictures from outside, getting the truck, the storefront, and, when they arrive, the FBI’s unmarked cars. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the hospital?” she asks Arthur.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look pale.”

“Don’t you have an article to write?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make the deadline.”

“Mm.” Arthur watches Kit answer Pike’s questions. “Good.” He walks to Kit’s side.

“Arthur.” Pike’s voice is low and tense. Annoyed, Arthur thinks. Or worried.

“Gordon.” He lifts a quizzical eyebrow.

“Explain to me, please, why you decided to raid the”—he looks up and reads—“Heavenly Touch Massage Parlor”—he grimaces—“in the middle of the night before we raid its owner’s house.”

“We had…intel…that suggested something might be going down. Sir.”

Pike sighs. “Do I want to know?”

“Would it be better to know or not know if someone bugged Jameson’s house?”

“I don’t want to know a thing.”

“Okay. Um, well, Cooper came by for a massage the other day and saw some… worrying features of the place. So, being concerned citizens and all, we wanted to keep an eye on it.”

“And?”

“And when we saw a woman enter after hours, we…”

Pike lifts an eyebrow and narrows his eyes.

“We saw, uh, and heard signs of distress. Wanted to be Good Samaritans.”

“I hope you know what a pain in the ass you all are. All of you.”

Kit lifts his hands. “What? Me too? I’m just tagging along.”

Pike shakes his head. “Trespassing. And if Jameson gets his shit cleared out because he knows this is happening…”

“Well, the woman hasn’t had a phone or anything—neither have the guards,” Arthur says, “so I don’t think he’d know.”

“What would your hypothetical intel tell you?”

“I’ll check.” Arthur spots Aiden with Cooper at the Transit van. He can’t hear them, but the conversation is heated. He interrupts anyway. “You got eyes on Jameson still?”

Aiden nods and opens up a laptop. “I knew this hotspot would come in handy at some point.”

“That’ll be good for the lake too,” Cooper says. “I mean…if you wanted to come ever, that is…” He winces and looks away.

Aiden turns the laptop. “This is the last movement. He went to bed around midnight.”

“Gross,” says Cooper, looking at the screen. “Oh shit, is that one of those girls with him?”

Arthur watches them walk from the elevator toward the bedroom on the screen. The woman is dressed in a satin negligee, pressing herself against Jameson and stroking his chest. “Right. Well, we know he hasn’t been alerted at least. And this woman looks somewhat older, and not distressed, for whatever it’s worth—if anything. I’ll tell Pike. We need to get her out of there regardless.”

Pike nods and presses his lips into a tight line as he listens to Arthur’s summary. He looks at his watch. “I’m moving everything up. We were planning six. We’ll move it to five.”

Arthur looks at the time. “That’s only a couple hours away.”

Pike nods. “Yeah. My team’s heading straight there.”

“You need help?”

“Unless you’re going to be hired by the FBI in the next two hours, you need to stay away.” He looks around the street. “I think we have everything we need from you. I’ll be in touch.”

“But—”

“No. Arthur, go home. You don’t do this anymore, remember?”

Arthur shakes his head.

“Come on, Arthur,” Kit says. “I have to work tomorrow. Today, actually. Let’s get some sleep.”

Arthur stares at Pike. “You—”

“Let me do my job, Arthur. You…you did a good job here. Thank you. Now let me do my part.”

Arthur nods and lets Kit lead him away.

 

THE WEATHER IS too cool to truly enjoy the pool. It’s outside, with a curtain-strewn pergola and bright-cushioned loungers. But the water is heated, and Kit swims laps in a tight little pair of shorts. He emerges from the edge of the deep end, water sluicing over his body, clinging to his chest hair and cascading down his back in rivulets. His arms flex as he propels himself up and perches on the edge. One young woman lounges on a twee colorful ice cream cone-shaped float, and another paddles over to her, neon bikini covering little of her tight body. The one on the float lowers her heart-shaped sunglasses, and they share a conspiratorial look. “Daddy,” she singsongs.

“Don’t call me that,” Kit grumbles. “You know I don’t like it when you call me that.” He looks at her, then looks away, then looks back again before looking down and shaking his head.

“Okay, then… Stepdaddy…” Arthur rolls his eyes, watching the exchange. Really? He knows they’re popular, but… Really? The stepdaughter thing?

“That’s—that isn’t any better.”

She pouts, and her friend smirks. She swims to the side and holds on to the edge beside Kit. She slides her breasts against him, and he closes his eyes. “Why don’t you like it?” the friend asks. “Isn’t she like a daughter to you?”

“No. You girls are already in college. That isn’t the same.”

“But I’ve never had anybody to call Daddy,” the girl says. “It isn’t my fault you just now married my mother.” She crosses her arms under her chest, and her breasts thrust up, nearly coming free of her top.

The other girl reaches up and runs a hand across Kit’s chest. He sucks in a noisy breath. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Boys my age don’t have chest hair like this. I just want to touch it. Just a little.”

Arthur smiles. He knows Kit’s nipples will be hardening as she tugs on it. He decides to ignore the setup.

“There are college boys with chest hair,” Kit argues, but he doesn’t pull back.

“Not like this,” she says, raking her nails down his chest. “Mmm,” she hums. “I could call you Daddy.” She bites her lip.

Kit breathes through his mouth. “That…that wouldn’t be…”

The other girl climbs onto the side of the pool from her float. She sashays over and kneels beside him. “I want to feel it too,” she says, pawing at him.

Kit looks around, as if he’s searching for help. “I’ll bet you’re a lot different than the boys our age,” says the girl in the neon bikini. She runs her hands down his stomach, across his groin, to his thighs. “I bet you know all sorts of things they don’t know.”

Arthur sees the bulge growing.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” says the girl in the sunglasses. Her bikini is polka dot, and her lips are red. She leans forward and licks along Kit’s neck.

“Ah, fuck,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” she shushes him. “You aren’t my daddy, so you can’t tell me what to do.”

The other girl takes hold of Kit’s shorts and pulls them down. He has to lift himself for them to slide off, and she grins, victorious. “Wow,” she says as his cock comes free. He’s hard, of course, and Arthur holds back a chuckle, watching from the pergola as it bounces a little. She licks him, and Kit groans, covering his face. The other girl pulls his hands away and sucks his nipple.

The camera captures the girl sucking his cock for a while; then they pause and move to a lounge chair. They dry off first and fix makeup; then Kit goes to work. The girls climb on top of each other, playing by themselves for a moment, and Kit kneels at the end of the lounger. He unties their bikini bottoms, one by one, and dexterously pulls them both to the side, revealing their bodies. He strokes the bottom one with his thumb, gently, and licks the other. They both moan, and he sucks and licks them each in turn until each of them has shaken and quivered through a climax. They push him onto the chair and one climbs on his lap while the other sits on his face.

Arthur’s view reveals little besides bouncing, and the camera circles close for a better look. The women take their pleasure from Kit’s body, and he gives, it appears, as much as he can. When he’s given them each another orgasm, they move. One lies on her back on the lounger, and the other gets on her hands and knees to pleasure her with her mouth.

Kit stands at the end and thrusts into her from behind. He varies the pace with the noises they make, encouraging them. “Like that,” he tells her. “Now slip in a finger. Perfect. See how she’s shaking?” He strokes down her back. “You’re going to make her come. Good girl.” He fucks her harder and says, “Make her come for Daddy.”

 

“I DON’T KNOW.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Kit pulls off Arthur’s bandage and frowns. “What the fuck, Arthur? How long has it looked like this?”

“What? I don’t know about the stepdaughter stuff. Actually, I do know. I’m not a fan.”

“Oh, well, it’s what’s popular right now. And this.” He holds up the dirty bandage, which is discolored from blood. “It’s been all clear. We’re going to have to go back to the hospital.”

“It’s just a little bit from last night. The thing is…why? Why is it popular?”

“From last night when you were supposed to be not exerting yourself. I think it’s because the priest thing—nuns and vicars and all that—isn’t done anymore. For reasons.”

“It had to be done.”

“You have a whole team of people!”

“It’s fine. I feel fine. Wait. Nuns and vicars?”

“We’re making an appointment for tomorrow morning. I think the thrill of the forbidden, right, it used to be more frequently focused on priests, but then that became problematic.”

“And incest isn’t?”

“No, no, it is. I just don’t think that many people are literally into incest. Step incest. Is it still incest if it’s stepfamily?”

“I think so.”

“There are entire web channels dedicated to it. It’s that popular.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Me neither, but it isn’t about me. Anyway, tomorrow morning. Doctor.”

“Fine. Just hand me the newspaper.”

“I want to read it too.”

“Mm.”

“Here,” Kit says, fixing the new bandage in place. He pushes Arthur back onto a chaise and slides in front of him. He leans back against him and holds up the newspaper so they can read it together. Porn Tycoon Accused of Human Trafficking reads the headline. It keeps Hattie’s name private, but it names politicians and businessmen who’ve traveled and partied with Jameson. The article includes pictures. “Oh shit,” Kit whispers, reading a few of the names aloud. “This is going to be big.”

“It’s going to be even bigger than this,” Arthur says. “I need to find out how the raid went.”

Beneath the fold is a story about Ward’s arrest. “The raid can wait,” Kit says. He turns around in Arthur’s arms. “First, there’s something I want to do.”

“Mm?”

Kit wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck and pulls his face down. “Yes,” he whispers. He presses his lips to Arthur’s. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Kit climbs up so he sits astride Arthur’s lap. “For doing all of this.” He kisses him. “For taking him down.”

“That wasn’t me,” Arthur says, leaning into the kiss. He threads his fingers through Kit’s hair.

“You could’ve ignored it that first night. Said it was just a typical stalker. A crazy ex.” Kit traces down Arthur’s chest to his navel. “You insisted on asking about Jameson, even when we told you taking him down would be impossible.”

“It may still be.”

Kit’s nimble fingers unfasten Arthur’s jeans.

“But this is already so much more than I anticipated.” He stills, and his eyes are dark. “So, thank you for taking us seriously. Thank you for thinking I’m worth the trouble.” He slides Arthur’s jeans off and throws them across the room.

“Messy.”

“You love it.”

“Mmm. You’re worth it, even if you’re a disaster.”

Kit grins. “Now. Despite all of that, I am very disappointed in you.”

“What? Why?”

“You have been bad, Arthur. A very naughty boy.”

Something surges in Arthur’s gut. He shivers.

“You were supposed to rest and let yourself heal. Instead, you climbed up a building and busted through a ceiling.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t mm me. You’ve been bad. Very bad. And now you’re going to be punished.” He grinds down against Arthur’s rapidly swelling erection. Kit slides off Arthur’s boxers and tosses them in the direction of his jeans. “And you aren’t allowed to come until I say.”

Arthur sucks in a long breath.

“I’ve been watching you for a while now, so while my scene earlier may not have hit the right buttons…I know exactly what will.” He stands up and deliberately—achingly slowly—peels off his clothes. He runs his hands up and down himself like he’s exploring. Arthur reaches up to touch, and Kit tsks and pushes his hands away. “You have to rest,” he chides him, “so you’re going to lie back and you’re going to take it.”

Kit sucks kisses into Arthur’s neck that are certain to leave dark bruises. He makes his way to his nipples and teases them with this tongue. He rubs a wet finger against each of them until they’re hard red nubs, nearly raw from the attention. Arthur tries to thrust up against him as his nerves come alive, and Kit pushes him back. “I didn’t say you’re allowed to do that,” he says. He runs his tongue down Arthur’s sternum, to his navel, and over to his hip. He slides his teeth along the dip there, then sucks lightly at it.

Arthur’s cock throbs, but Kit ignores it. He kisses his thighs instead and noses along his groin. “Mm, I miss your soap,” Kit complains. He pushes his hands up Arthur’s chest, pressing his fingertips into Arthur’s skin. He slides them around to his back and traces down the muscles on each side. He digs into Arthur’s ass, cupping his cheeks and groaning against his hip. “Fuck, Arthur, your body…”

“What about it?” Arthur asks, and his voice is embarrassingly husky. He tries to keep his hands to himself, but he can’t help but push Kit’s hair back from his forehead.

“You’re so responsive. I touch you…” He slides a single finger down Arthur’s abdomen, tracing the curved ridges of his muscles. “Look at the way your body moves with my touch.” His other fingers hover but don’t touch, and Arthur feels like he’s being taken apart. Kit licks his lips and finally takes Arthur’s arousal into his hand.

His mouth follows, and Arthur nearly comes up off the chaise. Kit firmly pushes him down again, pulling back with a wet pop. “Sit still.” He grips him at the base and sucks it lazily, savoring it. He laps at him, then sucks harder, speeding gradually until Arthur is panting, forcing himself to keep still.

“Christopher… I’m—”

“You’re not,” Kit disagrees. He sucks harder, taking him deep and pulling off as Arthur’s body tightens. “You aren’t going to do anything”—he strokes him with his hand—“until I tell you to.”

“Okay,” Arthur pants. Kit sucks one teste into his mouth, toying with it, gazing up at Arthur through his thick lashes. He runs his tongue along a vein up the shaft and slides it around the glans. He sucks him down again, and Arthur groans. “Fuck, Christopher…” He draws tight again, but he holds himself back. He throbs, aching with the unrelenting pleasure.

Kit bobs his head a few more times, then pulls off and shushes him. “Put your hands up behind your head,” he commands.

Arthur nods and obeys. Kit reaches behind him and retrieves a bottle of lubricant. “Good boy,” he says, and Arthur shivers. Kit’s eyes shine. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “You’re being so good for me after all.”

“Mm.”

Kit dribbles lube onto Arthur’s cock. “Now, I know you said you want to ride me, but since you misbehaved and hurt yourself again, you don’t get to ride anything until after you see your doctor.” He slicks Arthur’s erection with the thick fluid. “Instead, you’re going to let me use you. You’re going to let me ride you until you’re shaking and whimpering and absolutely wrecked.” He pumps his fist the full length of Arthur’s cock. “But first…” He grips him with a slick hand, stroking him. He lets his thumb skim over the tip and reaches down with his other hand to toy with his balls. The pace turns brutal again, and Arthur clenches his fists. Kit sees and smirks. He slows, then speeds again. He pinches one of Arthur’s nipples. He swipes across the tip, slicking it with fluid, and reaches beneath Arthur, exploring. Arthur tries to bend his knees and open up to him, but Kit holds him down. He chuckles and pulls both hands back. “So eager,” he says. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

Arthur nods.

“I get you first.” He straddles Arthur.

“Are you—”

“Shh.” Kit presses a finger to Arthur’s lips and clasps his cock with the other hand. He presses the tip against him and bites down on his lip as he pushes against it.

All of Arthur’s senses seem to focus on Kit as his awareness narrows to a single point of contact. It’s almost painfully good, and he grits his teeth. “Hnngh, fuck—”

“Oh God, yes, fuck, Arthur…” Kit sinks down bit by bit, stretching himself in increments. Arthur feels the hot clench as Kit works himself open. He moans, rocking with it as he gets it further into his body.

It’s unbearably good, and Arthur’s mouth drops open as Kit flushes with pleasure, spearing himself on his cock. Kit tilts his head back and closes his eyes for a moment. He takes it fully, and Arthur feels him—tight, slick, and exquisitely hot around him. Kit opens his eyes and fixes Arthur with his stare.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” Kit whispers. He seems to pulse around him. “It’s so much—I’m so full. I can feel you all the way to my fingertips. Tell me how I feel.”

“It’s…it’s so good,” Arthur manages. Kit just sits on him, as if he’s resting there. Arthur tries to thrust, and Kit grips his hips to hold him in place. “It’s…like you’re squeezing me, fuck, please, Christopher…”

Kit smiles and rakes his hands up and down Arthur’s chest. “Please what?”

“Let me move.”

Kit rocks up and down on Arthur’s cock, and Arthur lets out a long groan. “I think you’re doing just fine.”

“I feel like—”

“What?” He rocks again.

“Like I’m dying.”

Kit laughs, and it clenches more. Arthur groans. “You aren’t dying tonight. I’m not finished with you yet.” He starts to move, rolling his hips, picking up speed until he’s bouncing, riding Arthur. He leans his body so each of his thrusts hits just where he wants it. “Your cock, Arthur, is so…fucking…perfect.”

“I’m gonna—”

“Not until I say.”

“Fuck…”

“That’s it, give it to me, yes,” Kit moans. Each bounce is a wet slap as Kit works it.

“Christopher…”

Kit grins and stops. He slides down, clenching, still seated on Arthur’s cock. “What?”

It aches. Arthur shakes. He just lets out a low groan.

“You’re a little sweaty,” Kit teases. “You’re going to need another shower after this. It’s a nice shower, isn’t it? I’ve been meaning to say.”

Arthur just groans again, and Kit swivels his hips a bit. His own cock is ironhard as well, but he ignores it.

“There are a few other things I’ve been meaning to talk to you about too.”

“Please…”

“You don’t think this is a good time?”

“Please, just…”

“Okay, fine,” Kit relents. He resumes the pace, steady and unflagging. He writhes with pleasure as he rides Arthur, arching his back and keening as he takes him. Arthur’s hands find their way to his hips, and Kit’s throat flushes with his chest. His legs begin to shake, and he barely takes himself in hand before he comes with a sort of howl, still moving against Arthur. “Come for me,” he says. “You can come for me now,” and he rolls against him as Arthur grips his hips tight and finally finds release.

 

“YOU MISSED THE whole news story,” Cooper says. “Good thing these fucking twenty-four-hour news channels just show different people talking about the same goddamn thing for hours on end.” He puts the living room TV on CNN. They’re showing the outside of Jameson’s house. The ticker says something about an arrest. “No bail because he’s a flight risk.”

“For trafficking?” Arthur asks.

“It’s pretty damning when you own the massage parlor where it’s happening. They must’ve found some good stuff this morning. That, combined with Singh’s exposé…” Cooper shrugs. Aiden leans against him on the sofa. “I guess it was enough to haul him in.”

“It’s going to be in the courts for a while,” Aiden says. “But the reports are already pretty clear. He’s ruined.”

Kit takes Arthur’s hand. He smiles at him, and Arthur feels like he’s looking at something he shouldn’t see. He doesn’t deserve this. “I…”

“Thank you,” Kit says again.

“I didn’t…”

“Yeah,” Cooper agrees, “he just bossed everyone else around and made us do the legwork.”

“He got stabbed!”

“I got shot!”

“You were wearing a vest!”

“Stop,” Arthur tells them. Aiden laughs.

Cooper shakes his head. “Okay, can we watch a good movie now?”

“If Jameson’s arrested, we should probably go home,” Aiden points out. “Because the threat’s gone.”

“You’re fine,” Nicole calls from the kitchen.

“But you aren’t watching Con Air in my home theatre,” Therese adds. “I don’t care who gets arrested.”

“It has John Malkovich,” Nicole says.

“You and John Malkovich.”

Nicole giggles, and they disappear together onto the terrace.

Arthur, Cooper, and Aiden look at Kit. He squints and hums. “Okay, fine.” He takes a long breath. “We can watch Con Air.”

“Yes!” Cooper pumps his fist.

Arthur shakes his head and smiles. He follows them into the theatre.