Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

HAVOC

The text I got from Caleb just said to come into his suite. I guess he wants to pawn Seven off on me, or there’s some weird non-casino related orders he wants me to take care of. I don’t really know what my job title is, but it seems to be “Caleb’s gofer.”

I feel a mild itch when I walk past the blackjack tables, but I know better than to attempt to gamble. Whatever I could make at the tables pales in comparison to what Caleb’s promising to pay me.

I’ve started looking for a place of my own, but it’s slim pickings in Calamity City. A lot of the condos and apartments got bought up by investors who prefer short term rentals over long-term residents—never mind my background check always fucking me over.

The guards at Caleb’s door let me in. The familiar pang of jealousy hits me when I enter the suites, but I shove that aside.

“Caleb? Seven?” I call out when I don’t immediately spot them.

“In here!” Caleb’s voice calls back, from the direction of his bedroom.

I head in, but I don’t spot them in the bedroom either. The door to the en-suite bathroom is open, though. I peer inside, not sure what to expect.

I don’t expect to find Caleb and Seven sitting in the large jacuzzi bathtub, bubbles covering the surface of the water. Seven is sitting with his back against Caleb’s front, scowling.

The tiled floor around the tub is wet, like they were splashing around earlier.

“Uh. Am I early?” I ask.

Caleb shakes his head. “No. I needed another pair of hands, though. Can you grab the shampoo and wash Seven’s hair?”

I don’t understand why he needs me to do that when he’s sitting right there, but I’m not against touching Seven.

Seven slides down more in the tub so that his shoulders are under the water, too, and he glowers at me as I approach. “I can do my own hair, Caleb. Or you could do it.”

“If I do it, you’re going to try to leave the tub again,” Caleb says. “You’d think I was attempting to drown you.”

“Yeah, well. It would probably make me cry, and you’d like that,” Seven mutters.

I swallow hard, imagining Seven underwater, my hands on his throat. He’d be completely at my mercy, clawing at my arms for air?—

Fuck.

“Sure. Shampoo.” I find the bottle and pick it up. After a brief consideration, I remove my shoes, socks, and shirt. No need to get everything more wet.

“There’s a small cup over there,” Caleb says, gesturing vaguely. “So you can get his hair wet without risk of drowning.”

“You could both still find a way,” Seven says. But he sighs and looks up at me. “Is this really the kind of shit Caleb has you doing?”

It really is a strange job. I’d be doing this for free, but I’m not going to complain about getting paid for easy things like this. I fill the cup with water and take Seven’s chin to tilt his head back. He closes his eyes as I pour the warm water over his head and get his hair wet.

I notice that Caleb’s arms are tight around Seven’s arms and chest, like he really is keeping Seven in the bathtub with him.

“This is going to get awkward with you in the way,” I say to Caleb.

“It’ll be more awkward if Seven starts thrashing around again,” Caleb answers.

Again .

“Why was he thrashing around?” I ask as I lather the shampoo into his hair. I have to sit on the edge of the tub to do it.

“Because he was trying to drown me,” Seven says, turning his head to glare at Caleb.

My hands still.

Caleb rolls his eyes. “He’s being dramatic. I would hardly stoop to drowning him in the tub if I wanted to kill him.”

My mouth goes dry. I’m torn between wanting to punch Caleb, and the arousal I get from the mere thought of Seven struggling for air.

Shit. I’m not supposed to be a bully.

Caleb brings one of his hands up to Seven’s throat. “Be good for Havoc, pet, or we will force you under.”

Seven lets out a low sound as those fingers flex around his neck. “I’m being good,” he protests. “I have been nothing but good since I got into this tub.”

Judging by the water on the floor, the getting into the tub part had been the problem. I go back to massaging the shampoo into Seven’s hair. Did they fight? Did Caleb have to force Seven in? Are they covered in bruises underneath the bubbles? I can’t even see a hint of Seven’s body with how thick the bubble layer is.

“Lucky you,” I say, hoping my voice is steady. “You’re getting a whole spa treatment. Right? I’m the bath attendant now?”

“A spa treatment,” Seven scoffs. “Yeah. It’s just the lap of luxury around here. I get tea, and a spa treatment, and to cuddle in bed. It’s all just dandy.”

“Tea?” I repeat, baffled. I don’t see any mugs in the room, and I can’t imagine drinking hot tea while in a tub.

Caleb takes the cup and fills it with water to rinse off the shampoo. “From last night. Perhaps I should have called you then. The two of us would have had an easier time wrestling Seven into submission.”

Seven’s expression goes dark. “I didn’t need to be wrestled into submission,” he says in a low growl. “And you know it. If you wanted to dunk me under the water, you’d do it.”

I don’t know what the fuck had happened the night before, but it had clearly left an impact on Seven.

I take the cup from Caleb, and Seven lets me tip his head back so I can carefully pour the water over his head.

Caleb meets my eyes, his expression unreadable to me. Then Caleb says, “Since you keep suggesting it, pet… do you want Havoc to hold you under?”

My cock throbs, and I fight against the guilt and arousal warring inside me.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Seven protests. “Just because you have a thing about wanting to see me cry doesn’t mean I want to cry for you.”

“Did I say anything about crying?” Caleb rubs Seven’s throat again. “We’ll start for just a few seconds. Havoc will push you down. You can claw at his arm if you want to be let up.”

I bark out a nervous laugh. “What makes you think I’ll agree to this?”

Caleb smirks at me. “The way you looked every time either one of us mentioned it, for one.”

Seven’s gaze meets mine. “Is that what you want?” he asks. “To feel me struggle?”

The words make my cock twitch, but I try to keep my expression neutral.

I obviously don’t do a very good job, because Seven gives a harsh laugh. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. The more I protest, the more the two of you want it, right?”

“I’m not…” I make a frustrated sound. “If you’re into getting roughed up, yeah. I want to. But if you really don’t like it, I can punch Caleb here.”

“Being roughed up isn’t the same as being suffocated,” Seven says, and I get the feeling he’s not just talking about a breathplay kink.

Caleb licks the shell of Seven’s ear, and Seven shudders. “Imagine it, pet. Havoc’s large hands on your throat, holding you down. Your breath, your life, will be entirely in his hands. All your thoughts will be focused on the burning in your lungs, and the very real possibility that you could be snuffed out of existence, just like that.”

Seven licks his lips nervously, but he shudders, too. “I don’t… I don’t want that,” he whispers.

My face is hot with arousal, and I remind myself that I need to respect whatever Seven decides. I’m not a monster who beats innocent people.

But I am the kind of guy who shoves a man up against a bathroom stall and bruises him up and gets off on hearing his pained cries.

I shove those thoughts aside and focus on Seven.

“You don’t want that?” Caleb’s arm moves, and I assume he’s holding Seven’s cock underneath the water from the way Seven starts to squirm. “For those few seconds, you won’t need to even remember that I exist. It’ll just be you and Havoc.”

Seven swallows hard, his eyes darting up to meet mine. As nervous as he looks, there’s longing there, too. What the fuck happened to make him so desperate to escape Caleb? Or is it just that he really wants what Caleb’s suggesting?

“I…” Seven bites his lip as Caleb’s arm moves again—jacking Seven off, maybe?—and Seven whimpers. “Yes. Just as long as it’s Havoc. Not you.” He casts another glare at Caleb, but it’s less withering than before.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this hard just from a few words.

He wants me , not Caleb.

Caleb loosens his grip on Seven so he’s only holding Seven’s shoulders. I slide forward and move my hand to his throat.

“If you need to be let up, just scratch my arms,” I tell him seriously. “But I won’t hold you down for too long.”

“Yeah?” Seven asks, challenge in his tone now. “You don’t wanna be scratched anyway? Don’t wanna feel me struggle?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yes, but you need an out.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Caleb says as he rubs Seven’s shoulders. “Seven can struggle all he likes.”

I don’t know how I feel about that, but the way Seven is looking at me—all needy and even eager now—has me aching to just throw my reservations to the wind and do exactly what he wants.

“Make me forget,” Seven says in a low tone.

I nod and slowly push him under. He closes his eyes and goes willingly, submerging into the tub.

I feel his throat move, and after a few seconds, he grips my arm. I almost let go, but Caleb says, “Keep going.”

Seven doesn’t fight at first. His hand is tight on my arm, but he doesn’t try to come back up.

But then as the seconds tick by, I feel his fingernails starting to press against my skin. Lightly at first, then with more pressure, he drags them along my skin. It feels more like foreplay than fighting, though.

I can tell when he starts to struggle, though. Gone is the light caress of nails on my skin, and in its place comes something harder, something sharper. It’s obvious in the way he flails and fights that he wants to be let up now.

I should stop. I need to stop.

But my breathing is only getting heavier, and my cock is pressing insistently against my jeans.

Seven’s life is literally in my hands now, and he bucks and tries to push at my hands in desperation… then, slowly, his struggles get weaker. In a few moments, he’d be completely gone. I hold the power of life and death over him.

“Let go,” Caleb says sharply. “Now.”

I startle and release my hold around Seven’s neck. Caleb drags him up out of the water, and Seven sputters and coughs.

Seven looks at me with reddened eyes, and I think there might actually be tears under all that water.

I surge forward to kiss him, never mind that his lips are still slack and covered with bubbles, and he’s still trying to recover his breath. He doesn’t fight when I get my tongue in his mouth, like he doesn’t have any energy left to spare at all.

I’m so fucking hard.

When I finally break the kiss, Seven leans heavily against Caleb’s chest while Caleb strokes his hair gently.

Seven’s chest is heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, but he looks at me with a dazed look before managing to rasp out, “Choke me with your cock.”

I don’t bother to check with Caleb. I go for my jeans and slide them and my underwear off, tossing them to the rest of my clothes. Then I sit on the edge of the jacuzzi tub, opposite to Caleb and Seven, with my legs spread wide.

“Come on,” I growl. “Choke yourself on me.”

I ignore Caleb’s chuckle. The important thing is how Seven slides over to me and rests his arms on my thighs. His throat has my fingerprints in red around it, but bubbles are all over his shoulders and arms. He leans down, getting more bubbles on his chin, and takes me into his mouth.

He groans, then pushes deeper until the head of my cock is at the back of his throat. He swallows around me, again and again, then my cock slides into his throat. He only gags a little, and his hands go to mine. I’m confused at first, until he grabs one of them and puts it on the back of his head.

He’s putting all of the power back into my hands—literally—and it’s a heady feeling. I tighten my grip on his hair and push him down, waiting until I feel him choke before I let him up again. I repeat it over and over, relishing in the sensation of his throat fluttering around the head of my cock.

It doesn’t take much longer before the pleasure overwhelms me, and I come down his throat. Seven moans as I do, the sound reverberating around my cock and heightening my pleasure.

I let go of his head, but he stays where he is until Caleb tugs on Seven to force him back. Seven’s breathing is as ragged as my own. I watch in fascination as Caleb pulls Seven against him. His arm moves, clearly jacking Seven under the water. Some of the bubbles have dispersed, and I catch a glimpse of what’s going on down there.

“Good boy,” Caleb says against Seven’s ear.

Seven shudders, closing his eyes as he lets Caleb touch him. His hips don’t jerk; his body doesn’t move. He’s simply a limp doll, quiet but for a few moans that spill from his lips as he gets closer to climax. It isn’t until he comes that his body bucks, and he lets out a choked cry.

His eyes slowly flutter open, and he looks dazed even as he tries to focus on me.

Fuck, he looks so hot like that.

I haven’t learned at all. Rough sex is one thing, but this? This could be deadly. This could be murder .

I force my feet back out of the tub and fumble for a towel. “You get what you wanted?” I ask hoarsely.

Caleb huffs a small laugh. “I certainly did. What about you, Seven? Did you enjoy that?”

Seven nods, his expression distant. “Mhm,” he murmurs. “It was… It was good.” His voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. It doesn’t do much good, though, as it stays raspy when he says, “Need a nap now.”

“Sure. Havoc, can you go order food for all of us? I’ll help Seven out of the bath and into bed,” Caleb says.

I nod, grateful for the small reprieve to gather my thoughts. I wipe myself down and force myself back into my clothes. The jeans have wet spots, and somehow one of my socks got soaked, but I don’t care.

I rush out of the bathroom and call the hotel kitchen, not caring what food they send up.

With nothing else to do, I end up on the couch. Nacho jumps into my lap and rubs his head against my hand. When I don’t react, he meows.

“Fine,” I mutter, stroking his head. He starts purring loudly.

That’s how Caleb finds me when he exits his bedroom, dressed in a suit and his hair properly combed.

“You’re an asshole,” I say without vitriol.

Caleb smiles. “I never pretended otherwise. But don’t blame me for how much you got off on that.”

No, it isn’t his fault at all. I’ve always been like this.

I’ve always been cut from the same cloth as my fucking stepfather.

I meet his gaze. “I need a place to stay. You have any empty apartments somewhere in the city I can rent on my salary?”

Caleb purses his lips. “I might be able to find something. Although are you sure you want your housing to be in my hands, too?”

He has a point, but at this point, I don’t give a shit anymore. “Yeah, it’s fine. You already own the rest of me, apparently. Making me do shit like this.”

I don’t like Caleb’s answering smile. “Oh, Havoc. I haven’t made you do anything yet. If you truly don’t like what I’m asking, you need to run while you still can.”

I really should.

But I don’t want to leave Seven with him.

My hands flex, remembering how I’d held Seven’s throat.

Caleb doesn’t get to claim sole ownership of Seven.