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A finger thick with Mike’s cum slips into my mouth. I don’t need instructions to suck it off and swallow.

“God, you’re good at that. Such a good, good, filthy slut,” he whispers. “Such a good boy.” His lips nearly brush against my lips.

Almost.

Not quite.

Stopping myself from lifting my head, from pressing my lips to his, takes more effort than it really should. So many questions I want to ask him. Why was tonight different?

By the time I find my voice, he’s already gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dean

Our pimp, Brennan, mostly works out of a laundromat on the north end of town. It’s busy today. College students scroll on their phones while their clothes spin. I pass the banks of vending machines and tables for folding clothes and knock on a door at the back marked Employees Only.

Jalen, one of Brennan’s guys, lets me in but doesn’t let the door close as I enter.

“I’m heading out,” he says to Brennan. “You good here, boss?”

Brennan’s behind his desk. Another guy I’ve seen before is nearby, holding up the wall. Older, with a plain black shirt and cargo pants. Liam? He and my friend Ravi live together but we’ve only met a few times.

“I’m good, man,” Brennan says. “Let me know what you find out.”

“As always.” And then Jalen’s gone. I’m never sure what he does for Brennan, but the escort gossip mill suggests it’s a lot of, uh, enforcement-type stuff. Clearly Brennan trusts him, because he seems to do a lot of things on Brennan’s behalf. Not that I really know about these things, but Brennan doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who trusts just anyone to handle his business.

“Have a seat, Mr. Ness.” Brennan waves his hand at the chair on the other side of his desk.

“Are we bein’ formal now?” Not sure he’s called me by my last name before. I feel like last names are for someone you haven’t sucked off in a bathroom.

“You’re the one who texted and requested a meeting. Seemed serious.” He points to the other man holding up the wall. “You know Liam?”

Now that I think of it, I do have some clients who want me to call them Mister. Or Sir. But I don’t count Brennan in that list.

I stand to shake his hand. “Yes, sir. You’re Ravi’s boyfriend, right? You were kind enough to invite us to a cookout at your place a while back.”

He nods. “Nice to see you again, Dean.”

I look between them. “Why are you both here?”

“GI Joe and I have formed an unlikely alliance.”

I’m not sure what that means, and not sure if I should say so. “I’m sorry. GI Joe?”

Brennan mutters something about “what happens when you deal with children” and I don’t understand what that means either, but I’m not asking now.

Thank heavens Liam helps me out. “I’m ex-Army. Now, I run a private security firm,” Liam explains. “My work and Brennan’s are very different. I am not, for example, a pimp, a weapons dealer, or a loan shark. I’ve never bribed a local politician or taken part in auctioning off someone’s virginity.”

That last part makes “Mr. Doyle” look like there’s steam coming out of his ears.

“Oh.”

Liam only grins at me. “You get the idea?”

“Guess so. Thanks.”

Liam gives Brennan a look. “But sometimes our interests align, like when someone in town is kidnapping people, or a new street drug pops up that we thought we’d shut down. In those types of situations, it’s in everyone’s best interest to put a stop to it, in which case Brennan and I have agreed to work together. Particularly since Brennan is my, uh, boyfriend’s ‘employer.’”