Cold snorted, his hands winding around Jimmy’s waist. “Hmmm,” he mused. “You know... ‘Master Cold’ does have a nice ring to it.”
“I’m not calling you master!” Francis Von Valdemar’s voice yelled out suddenly, but he was quickly shushed by someone. Judging by the sound of the cursing, it was presumably his grandson, Francis Von Valdemar III, whom they called Thirdsies.
They were the youngest and oldest members of Cold’s inner circle and Jimmy had serious doubts about their sanity. Although he couldn’t see them, he knew they had to be just outside judging by the sound of their voices.
Jimmy groaned miserably and ducked his head down, Cold’s deep chuckle rumbling in his ear. “God,” he mumbled, grabbing for his clothes. “How long have they been there?”
“We came in right around the juicy ‘fuck, right there, sir’ and decided to wait!” Valdemar happily replied, raising his voice higher to imitate Jimmy’s passionate moaning.
“Valdemar,” Cold warned.
“Sorry, Boss!” Valdemar giggled with absolutely no hint of remorse.
“If you’re, uhm, available, Boss?” Thirdsies called hesitantly. He sounded very upset. “We need to see you. About the guy with the thing? You know?”
“I’ll be right there,” Cold said firmly, his expression hardening. He watched Jimmy get dressed, sighing, “My apologies, Jimmy. Duty calls.”
“It’s all right. I’ll be here,” Jimmy said, stretching back out on the couch with a warm smile. He winked as he added, “Master.”
Cold rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling when he gave Jimmy a parting kiss. “Mmmm,” he purred, “I can tell you that ‘Master’ expects you to go upstairs, take off your clothes, and spread yourself open for me... I want you wet and waiting by the time I come back.”
Jimmy moaned softly at the thought, nodding, “Fuck. Yes, sir!”
“Uh uh,” Cold teased. “Yes, what?”
“Mmm. Yes, Master.”
* * *
Jimmy woke up witha smile on his face and Cold’s arms wrapped around his waist. He’d prepped himself in anticipation of Cold’s return as requested and was not disappointed when he finally came home to thoroughly ravage him. He didn’t ask about what Thirdsies and Valdemar had needed him for; asking questions would probably lead to answers he didn’t want to hear.
They showered and dressed for the day, and Jimmy was surprised when he didn’t see his father at breakfast. He looked to Cold for guidance, asking, “Should I go wake him up?”
“He’s spent almost twenty years with people telling him when to get up and when to sleep,” Cold replied, sipping at his coffee. “Leave him be.”
Jimmy thanked Jerry for his breakfast and ate in silence. All he wanted to do was help his father, and Cold’s advice made him feel useless.
“He will come down when he is ready,” Cold soothed.
Jimmy nodded, picking at his eggs with a forlorn sigh. His head jerked up when he heard someone walking in. He was hoping to see his father, but instead he saw the giant figure of Julian Price lumbering in.
“Morning, Boss,” Jules grumbled in his gravelly tone. He jerked his head at Jimmy. “Twigs.”
“Good morning, Jules!” Jimmy greeted, waving his fork.
“Any news?” Cold asked casually, though Jimmy caught the impatience in his expression.
“It’s a go,” Jules replied obediently. “Surveyors have been all over the block. Might be six months, might be a year. But it’s a done deal.”
Cold didn’t like that answer, scowling heavily as he said, “Fine. Just keep me posted.”
“Everything okay?” Jimmy asked, frowning in concern.
“It’s fine,” Cold snapped. He cleared his throat, saying in a softer tone, “It’s fine, Jimmy.”
“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours,” Jules chuckled. “Boss has got this handled.”
“Mm, morning,” David’s sleepy voice announced, shuffling in and blinking at everyone. He was still wearing his pajamas and his hair hadn’t been brushed. “Having some sort of a meeting?”
