“Just for me,” Cold confirmed, kissing Jimmy’s hand with a smug smirk.
When they arrived at the courthouse, Jimmy had to tuck his hard cock up into his waistband to hide it. The damn plug made him twitch, and he nearly stumbled, having to pause mid-step.
“Are you all right, Jimmy?” Cold asked casually.
“Fine,” Jimmy grunted, tossing Cold a quick glare as he adjusted himself. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through this meeting.
Cold was calm as ever as he took Jimmy’s arm to lead him inside. The crowds of reporters at the doors were screaming questions and wild accusations, Jimmy ducking his head down as Cold fearlessly blazed right through them.
Christine was waiting in the lobby to wave them through security, and Thirdsies and Valdemar were hovering around the corner outside the first row of courtrooms. They were wearing suits, and Jimmy had honestly never seen them so spiffed up before.
Thirdsies looked wide-eyed and extremely uncomfortable, his spindly frame hunched until Cold approached. He stood up straight, reaching for Cold’s hand and shaking it eagerly. “Hey, Boss!”
“Valdemar, Thirdsies,” Cold greeted cordially, meeting Thirdsies’ troubled gaze with a stern stare of his own. “You’re going to do fine.”
“Right! Yes!” Thirdsies nodded frantically. “Miss Beccali has been talkin’ to me and yeah, I’m fine. I’m good, I’m golden, I got this.”
Valdemar squeezed Thirdsies’ arm, murmuring, “Take a breath, son. His Coldness is gonna think you’re slipping.”
“Got it,” Thirdsies said, taking a deep breath as instructed and smiling weakly.
Jimmy tugged on his tie, not sure if he or Thirdsies was more miserable right at that moment. The plug was a very helpful reminder to hold his tongue, but God, it was making him ache.
Christine eyed Jimmy skeptically as she asked, “You feeling okay, Mr. Poe?”
“Oh, just peachy,” Jimmy grumbled bitterly. He watched Cold’s hand slide very purposefully into his coat pocket, quickly amending, “I’m fine. Really, thank you.”
“Good boy,” Cold whispered in Jimmy’s ear, careful to lean in close so no one else heard him.
Jimmy wondered if his belt buckle could rust from all the pre-cum potentially leaking from his throbbing cock where it was pressed against his waistband.
Christine glanced at her watch, briskly announcing, “Let’s go. Hearing starts in five minutes.”
“And the judge?” Cold inquired.
“Judge Del Rio,” Christine replied with a smirk.
Jimmy could tell that Cold was pleased with that answer, and he followed closely as Christine led the charge into the courtroom.
The bailiff and court reporter were already present, and Blalock and Champignon were seated at the plaintiff’s table.
Blalock stood up to greet them and paid special attention to Thirdsies. “Good morning, everyone. Good morning, Mr. Valdemar. I’ve been very interested in speaking with you—”
“When you’d like to speak to my client, you can contact my office,” Christine cut in quickly.
“Been hiding out for a while, huh?” Champignon suddenly piped up, staring Thirdsies down cruelly. “I bet you’re just itching to go see your boyfriend. What’s his name again? Pym?”
Thirdsies growled, a low and feral sound that didn’t even sound human. He looked ready to jump up and tackle Champignon down to the floor.
“Who Mr. Valdemar is seeing is not relevant to this hearing,” Jimmy said firmly. “If you’re trying to provoke a negative response from our client, I’ll file a formal complaint with the FBI for gross misconduct. This is a courtroom, not an arena for your personal interrogation.”
Cold was beaming smugly and Christine smirked as she quipped, “What he said.”
“That’s not necessary,” Blalock said quickly. “Please disregard Mr. Champignon’s remarks. I’m sure he’s only trying to be, eh, friendly.”
Jimmy flinched as he sat down at the defendant’s table next to Cold and Christine, a faint tremor of vibrations rumbling away inside of him. He wasn’t sure if this new stimulation was meant to be a reward or a punishment. He slid his fingers through his hair and leaned back in his chair as he struggled to find a comfortable position.
Cold was nearly motionless despite what his hand had been up to mere moments ago, tense and perched in his chair like a tiger about to pounce. His prey was Stephen Blalock, sizing him up like a wounded gazelle and silently thinking of ways to eat him, bone and all.
