The Boy I Grew Up With
Page 61
He spoke with his back to me, half his words mumbled, but I heard, “…called, and said they’re watching Richter.”
“Channing.”
He straightened and turned back.
“I’m only going if I know.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Tell me every detail. This is my revenge too, not just yours.”
He studied me, gauging my words, and I looked right back. He could stare all he wanted. I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t bluffing.
My nostrils flared. “I’m not getting on that plane unless I know it. All of it.”
“Okay.” He grabbed a beer, but he didn’t come back to the table. He rested against the kitchen counter, his feet crossed at the ankles.
He started.
“Traverse said Richter brought in another Demons charter. They didn’t agree with what Traverse did, so there’s a war between them. That’s why Richter hasn’t made a move and why we haven’t either. We’re waiting for that to finish. No matter who the winner is, Traverse is going to give us Richter.” His eyes slid from mine, and his mouth clenched.
“Are you sending your crew to help Traverse?”
His eyes came back to mine, and I saw the hardened look in them. “Fuck. Yes. I’m sending all the help I can. I want Richter to burn for what he did to you.”
“So you’re in a waiting period with Richter. What about that other guy? The one that talked to you in your new storefront.”
Annoyance flashed over his face. “Yeah. That asshole. He was the guy wanting that con guy.”
“The con job on Chad’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“The con man was an heir to some rich crotchety old guy. His lawyer, a Peter—”
I grinned at that. He looked like one of those guys.
“—paid us to deliver the son to him. We did. They went away, and the lawyer showed back up to let us know he’d left his rich pop’s estate and was probably coming for payback. He said that, and Chad went nuts, Hulk-style.”
I sighed. I’d seen it once, and it’d been fireworks. A sick and twisted part of me wanted to see it again—maybe on Richter.
I inclined my head. “Is it possible that the Peter was working with Richter? He was the bait to pull you away, and that’s when they snatched me?”
“We thought that, but we grabbed his phone. There was no history of calls between the two. We ran down every number. They all checked out.”
I wasn’t going to ask how they got his phone, or the history. Knowing Channing, they just took it, whether the guy wanted to hand it over or not.
“So he was letting you know as what? A courtesy?”
“No.” Channing shook his head. “Money. If the son comes back, he wants us to deliver him back to the pop for the same money. I told him that wouldn’t fly. We’d just deal with him ourselves.”
I grinned. “What’d he do after that?”
Channing matched my grin. “He doubled the fee. It’s on a continuous basis.”
“Why would the con guy keep coming back?”
He shrugged, sipping his beer. “The Peter thinks he has a score here that he hasn’t gotten yet, and it’s good enough to keep bringing him back. We’ll find out. If he shows up, we’ll snatch him and beat him for information.”
“Is that what you did before?”
Channing scowled. His hand tightened on his beer, then he tossed it back in one swallow. “You’re right.” He swore under his breath. “We’ll have to try a different method.”
“Let Becca at him.”
He tilted his head.
“I have a feeling if anyone can figure out how to weasel info from the guy, it’ll be her.”
“Shit.” His eyebrows rose. “You’re right. I bet she would, and if she can’t…” A seductive smile pulled at his lips. “Maybe we’ll let you go at him.”
The thought of having a guy tied up in front of me at my complete disposal, where I could do whatever I wanted, say whatever I wanted—I couldn’t deny the zing that went down my spine. But then I really pictured the guy, whoever he was. I chose a sleazy, smarmy kind of guy. Greasy hair. Too much tanner. Blinding white teeth. Heavy chains around his neck and a fake Rolex on his wrist.
That zing dried up immediately, so I replaced him with Channing.
Channing tied up. Channing at my disposal, at my command, and I could do whatever I wanted with him.
That had appeal, a lot of appeal. A throbbing started between my legs, and watching me, Channing’s eyes darkened in response.
He set aside his beer. “What are you thinking?”
“I want to fuck you. I want to ride you so hard, so smooth that I’ll be able to just squeeze my legs at the right moment, with the right amount of pressure, and you’ll come so long and hard, you’ll be seeing the fucking galaxy.”
His eyes went wide, and I smiled. I was almost purring as he tossed his bottle into the sink and scooped me up.
“The things you say.”
My pants were soon unzipped, unbuttoned. He tugged them down, his hand on my bare ass.
He threw me over his shoulder, but damn, I wanted down. I wanted to touch him. He took me to his room and dropped me onto the bed, bending with me so his hand lingered on my ass. Groaning, he pulled away to shut the door. He flipped the lock and turned the fan on full blast.
High-class, people. High-class.
I rolled on my back and watched him come to me.
He started to take his shirt off but paused, his eyes locked on mine.
I licked my lips and murmured, huskily, “Take it off.”
His eyes were so dark, they were almost black. He nudged my legs apart and stepped between them. His head inclined just enough to let me know he meant business. “You take it off.”
An explosion of lust filled me. He wanted to play games? Hell to the fuck yes.
I scooted down to the edge of the bed, wrapping my legs around his, and I jerked him forward. Taking a good hold on his jeans, I pulled him the rest of the way until he almost fell on me. He caught himself, steadying, and smirked at me.
His dick was hard, standing right up, and I skimmed my hand up the front of him, reveling in his small groan. He tipped his head back, letting me do whatever the hell I wanted.
And I wanted. I wanted.
I pushed his shirt up, my hand running over all of those muscles. He sucked in his stomach under that touch.
I could make him gasp. I could make him tremble. I could make him do anything I wanted, and that power was addictive. Climbing to my knees on the bed, I lifted the shirt over his head, and his eyes caught mine once more. I tossed it at the same time his hand came up to cup my neck. It was his turn now. He bent down, his lips hovering over mine.
“You have any idea how hot I am for you right now?”
My hand went down his chest, and I undid his jeans, slipping inside. Wrapping my fingers around his cock, I grinned back at him.
“I have a feeling.” My thumb grazed the top of him and a guttural groan left him, almost in an explosive way. He bent down, put his hands around my legs, and lifted me clean up in the air.
“Channing!” I clamped onto him, my legs and arms wrapped tight, but then I closed my eyes. I started not to care where he was taking me. I could feel him between my legs, and a small shift—there he was. He was pushing his way in. The only barrier between us was my panties.
“Goddamn, woman.”
I grinned, nipping his neck. “Get my underwear off. Now.”
“Channing.”
He straightened and turned back.
“I’m only going if I know.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Tell me every detail. This is my revenge too, not just yours.”
He studied me, gauging my words, and I looked right back. He could stare all he wanted. I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t bluffing.
My nostrils flared. “I’m not getting on that plane unless I know it. All of it.”
“Okay.” He grabbed a beer, but he didn’t come back to the table. He rested against the kitchen counter, his feet crossed at the ankles.
He started.
“Traverse said Richter brought in another Demons charter. They didn’t agree with what Traverse did, so there’s a war between them. That’s why Richter hasn’t made a move and why we haven’t either. We’re waiting for that to finish. No matter who the winner is, Traverse is going to give us Richter.” His eyes slid from mine, and his mouth clenched.
“Are you sending your crew to help Traverse?”
His eyes came back to mine, and I saw the hardened look in them. “Fuck. Yes. I’m sending all the help I can. I want Richter to burn for what he did to you.”
“So you’re in a waiting period with Richter. What about that other guy? The one that talked to you in your new storefront.”
Annoyance flashed over his face. “Yeah. That asshole. He was the guy wanting that con guy.”
“The con job on Chad’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“The con man was an heir to some rich crotchety old guy. His lawyer, a Peter—”
I grinned at that. He looked like one of those guys.
“—paid us to deliver the son to him. We did. They went away, and the lawyer showed back up to let us know he’d left his rich pop’s estate and was probably coming for payback. He said that, and Chad went nuts, Hulk-style.”
I sighed. I’d seen it once, and it’d been fireworks. A sick and twisted part of me wanted to see it again—maybe on Richter.
I inclined my head. “Is it possible that the Peter was working with Richter? He was the bait to pull you away, and that’s when they snatched me?”
“We thought that, but we grabbed his phone. There was no history of calls between the two. We ran down every number. They all checked out.”
I wasn’t going to ask how they got his phone, or the history. Knowing Channing, they just took it, whether the guy wanted to hand it over or not.
“So he was letting you know as what? A courtesy?”
“No.” Channing shook his head. “Money. If the son comes back, he wants us to deliver him back to the pop for the same money. I told him that wouldn’t fly. We’d just deal with him ourselves.”
I grinned. “What’d he do after that?”
Channing matched my grin. “He doubled the fee. It’s on a continuous basis.”
“Why would the con guy keep coming back?”
He shrugged, sipping his beer. “The Peter thinks he has a score here that he hasn’t gotten yet, and it’s good enough to keep bringing him back. We’ll find out. If he shows up, we’ll snatch him and beat him for information.”
“Is that what you did before?”
Channing scowled. His hand tightened on his beer, then he tossed it back in one swallow. “You’re right.” He swore under his breath. “We’ll have to try a different method.”
“Let Becca at him.”
He tilted his head.
“I have a feeling if anyone can figure out how to weasel info from the guy, it’ll be her.”
“Shit.” His eyebrows rose. “You’re right. I bet she would, and if she can’t…” A seductive smile pulled at his lips. “Maybe we’ll let you go at him.”
The thought of having a guy tied up in front of me at my complete disposal, where I could do whatever I wanted, say whatever I wanted—I couldn’t deny the zing that went down my spine. But then I really pictured the guy, whoever he was. I chose a sleazy, smarmy kind of guy. Greasy hair. Too much tanner. Blinding white teeth. Heavy chains around his neck and a fake Rolex on his wrist.
That zing dried up immediately, so I replaced him with Channing.
Channing tied up. Channing at my disposal, at my command, and I could do whatever I wanted with him.
That had appeal, a lot of appeal. A throbbing started between my legs, and watching me, Channing’s eyes darkened in response.
He set aside his beer. “What are you thinking?”
“I want to fuck you. I want to ride you so hard, so smooth that I’ll be able to just squeeze my legs at the right moment, with the right amount of pressure, and you’ll come so long and hard, you’ll be seeing the fucking galaxy.”
His eyes went wide, and I smiled. I was almost purring as he tossed his bottle into the sink and scooped me up.
“The things you say.”
My pants were soon unzipped, unbuttoned. He tugged them down, his hand on my bare ass.
He threw me over his shoulder, but damn, I wanted down. I wanted to touch him. He took me to his room and dropped me onto the bed, bending with me so his hand lingered on my ass. Groaning, he pulled away to shut the door. He flipped the lock and turned the fan on full blast.
High-class, people. High-class.
I rolled on my back and watched him come to me.
He started to take his shirt off but paused, his eyes locked on mine.
I licked my lips and murmured, huskily, “Take it off.”
His eyes were so dark, they were almost black. He nudged my legs apart and stepped between them. His head inclined just enough to let me know he meant business. “You take it off.”
An explosion of lust filled me. He wanted to play games? Hell to the fuck yes.
I scooted down to the edge of the bed, wrapping my legs around his, and I jerked him forward. Taking a good hold on his jeans, I pulled him the rest of the way until he almost fell on me. He caught himself, steadying, and smirked at me.
His dick was hard, standing right up, and I skimmed my hand up the front of him, reveling in his small groan. He tipped his head back, letting me do whatever the hell I wanted.
And I wanted. I wanted.
I pushed his shirt up, my hand running over all of those muscles. He sucked in his stomach under that touch.
I could make him gasp. I could make him tremble. I could make him do anything I wanted, and that power was addictive. Climbing to my knees on the bed, I lifted the shirt over his head, and his eyes caught mine once more. I tossed it at the same time his hand came up to cup my neck. It was his turn now. He bent down, his lips hovering over mine.
“You have any idea how hot I am for you right now?”
My hand went down his chest, and I undid his jeans, slipping inside. Wrapping my fingers around his cock, I grinned back at him.
“I have a feeling.” My thumb grazed the top of him and a guttural groan left him, almost in an explosive way. He bent down, put his hands around my legs, and lifted me clean up in the air.
“Channing!” I clamped onto him, my legs and arms wrapped tight, but then I closed my eyes. I started not to care where he was taking me. I could feel him between my legs, and a small shift—there he was. He was pushing his way in. The only barrier between us was my panties.
“Goddamn, woman.”
I grinned, nipping his neck. “Get my underwear off. Now.”
