“He can be pretty intimidating,” Peter said, looking down at the table and then back up at Tex. “But he’s nice. I like him.”
Tex smiled and then raised an eyebrow. “And what about me, do you think I’m nice?” He licked the corner of his mouth, noting with pleasure how Peter tracked the movement. His cock hardened, and Tex uncrossed his ankles and spread his legs.
Peter shook his head and let out a little laugh. “You’re fun, I think, but I’m not sure you’renice.”
Tex wasn’t offended. Being nice was never something he’d aspired to be. He grinned, showing off just a bit more teeth than was normal for a human.
“I can be nice when I want to be,” he said, sliding his hand down his front and cupping his crotch. He made a show of squeezing his bulge. “Want me to show you?”
Peter’s pupils widened, his breaths coming just a little faster.
“Maybe…”
Tex had him. “Why don’t you crawl under the table and find out?”
Peter blinked, and then with a small smile, he pushed his chair back and sank down to the floor. He wasn’t particularly graceful, ducking his head under the table with an eager look on his face, the chair screeching as Peter pushed it further out of the way.
Crawling between Tex’s legs, Peter rubbed his face against the rock hard muscle of Tex’s thigh, nuzzling against the hard muscle while his hands wrapped around the stiff leather of Tex’s boot. Then he moved up, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the bulge of Tex’s cock.
Tex let out a grunt, hand fisting in Peter’s hair and holding him in place. Peter looked up at him through his lashes with a hungry expression, making Tex laugh.
“Greedy for it, aren’t you?”
Peter smiled and started sucking on Tex’s cock through his breeches, scraping over it with his teeth while he licked and worked the bulge for everything he was worth.
Tex relaxed back into his seat with a contented sigh, hand fisted loosely in Peter’s hair. This was exactly what he’d wanted when he’d come home for lunch.
18
Carver
It was the end of the day, and Carver was exhausted. He’d planned on going home the second the clock hit five, but then his private investigator had stopped by with the file he’d compiled on The Bank and that plan went out the window.
“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Wilde. Can I get you anything else?” Carver’s assistant, Thomas, came into his office and put an Americano down on his desk. He didn’t look at his watch, but Carver could feel how much he wanted to go home.
“No, that’s it. I don’t think I’ll need you again tonight so you can head on home.”
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Thomas said, smiling. Carver took a sip of his coffee and nodded, waiting until Thomas was out of the room before opening the file.
All he needed was one person that he knew well enough to ask for an invitation to The Bank. The sooner he got in the door, the sooner he could get his distasteful task over with.
He still hadn’t told Peter about it. He was going to, but he figured he’d wait until he had an invite before making the omega worry.
As Carver looked through the file, there were more names than he had expected. It was a who’s who of alphas, including the mayor and the chief of police. It was no wonder the club had managed to avoid getting shut down. With the number of powerful alphas that were members, it would take a scandal of a very public nature to bring it down.
That so many of Carver’s peers were utter cads was depressing.
After reading through all the names and the info his PI had collected, Carver had the beginnings of a plan. There were several names he was familiar with, but his best bet was Donald Ingram. The alpha was a senior partner at his firm, and though Carver had never worked with him directly, he knew him well enough that asking for an invite wouldn’t be too out of the blue.
Leaning back in his chair, Carver dreaded the conversation ahead. Ingram was a chauvinistic pig, never hesitating to share his views on omegas and how they should behave, and it didn’t surprise Carver one bit that he was a member of The Bank.
The only reason Carver hadn’t told him to take his opinions and shove them was the fact that the man could block him from getting promoted to senior partner. Having to pretend to share his views on omegas—rather than just listen and say nothing—was not something he looked forward to.
He might as well get this over with. Closing the file, Carver packed up his briefcase and headed out toward the elevator, riding up to the top floor where the senior partners had their offices.
“Is Donald available for a quick word?” he asked Julia, Ingram’s secretary. She was an elderly beta, her position forced on Ingram after his last six omega secretaries had quit. Rumor had it that substantial settlements had been required to prevent sexual harassment suits.
“Let me check,” Julia said, picking up the phone. “Mr. Ingram, do you have a moment for Mr. Wilde?”
