Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

There was no way for Trev to know who Camille's friend was or if one of the lecherous creeps currently drooling over him might be the Luchesi gangster he was supposed to impress.

At least they couldn't touch him yet.

Trev was in a tall plexiglass box with a pole in the middle, slowly walking in lazy turns to show off his body. The box wasn't big enough to do many tricks, but he could drop down into a squat to stick out his ass and give his admirers something to salivate over. It also allowed him to turn his back to them and roll his eyes as hard as he could.

He'd vowed that he would never do this again, and yet, here he was.

He'd painted his face for the gods, keeping his highlights bright but his eyes dark. He wanted his eyes to pop, and he wanted to look alluring, sexy, and a little dangerous.

That would probably please a gangster, right?

The Cannery had a small stage with a short catwalk, and plexiglass cages lined the walls on either side. It was a cramped black abyss of small plush chairs and even smaller tables lit with red neons. There was a curtained doorway beside the bar that led into a hall of private rooms where the real action took place.

The manager had stuck Trev in one of the cages closest to the door, no doubt meant to be a slight as it was not considered a prime spot.

As if that mattered.

There was a small crowd watching him, and he was happy to slowly caress his hands over his body through his black lace panties and matching bralette. His heels were black vinyl, eight inches, and he twirled gracefully around the pole, dragging his stilettos along the edge of the case.

If the manager had put him in the darkest corner with a burlap sack over him, Trev could have still had his pick of any man inside that club.

It wasn't up to him of course, and the red tag hanging on the latch of his cage indicated that his company had already been purchased and he was merely waiting to be claimed. He could practically hear the other dancers gnashing their teeth since the lack of availability didn't deter his flock of admirers.

He saw the same buyers he'd always seen at the Cannery: old men wearing ties, middle-aged guys in polo shirts and khakis, and younger fellows in sports team jerseys and hats trying to look butch. He couldn't imagine any of these pitiful louts were actually gangsters.

Trev would have much rather been at home, eating Chinese with Juicy and his imaginary dog.

Wait.

There .

Three big men in expensive suits tailored to perfection walked in, and everyone cleared a wide path for them. They wore flashy watches and shiny cufflinks, and they exuded raw power and authority with a glance. As one of them adjusted their coat, Trev saw a gun tucked away in a shoulder holster, and he assumed they were all armed.

No weapons were allowed in the Cannery, not ever , but they must have made an exception for these men…

Which meant they were definitely gangsters.

Two of the men were nearly identical, maybe brothers, with slick black hair and rough grizzled faces made for radio. The taller of the pair had a neatly trimmed beard while the other was clean shaven. They looked like they knew what blood smelled like, and Trev avoided eye contact when they looked his way.

The third one, however, was a totally different story—he was fine as hell.

He was the tallest of the trio, big and broad, and his shoulders and chest strained the seams of his jacket. He didn't just walk, no, this man lumbered like a giant jungle beast. His black hair was thick and curly, and he let it hang loose around his face. His nose had a slight crook to it as if it had been broken, but it only enhanced his rugged appeal.

There was a scar that ran through his left brow and down onto his cheek. It was deep, jagged, like a lightning bolt zigzagging across his face. There was a splash of silver in his dark scruff where the scar ended, and Trev wanted to trace it with his tongue. The man's lashes were so lush that it looked like he had mascara on, and his dark eyes moved over Trev's body, the primal gaze of a predator about to pounce.

Wow .

Trev hoped Mr. Fine was the man he was expected to entertain. He reminded himself he was doing this for six months of rent, but it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it.

Judging by how Mr. Fine was staring this way, Trev dared to get his hopes up. Even though the view of his cage was obscured by his other admirers, he made sure to focus his performance to keep Mr. Fine's attention on him.

Mr. Fine turned to the men with him and said something, pointing right at Trev.

The clean-shaven man waved for a bouncer, who then approached to speak with them. There was lots of talking and nodding, and the bouncer gestured to Trev's cage.

Mr. Fine smiled.

Trev smiled back.

Yes .

The bouncer came over to release Trev from the cage, and Trev accepted his hand to step out onto the floor. Trev wiggled his fingers in farewell to the crowd, who parted to let them through, aware of all their hungry eyes moving over his body. He ignored them.

There was only one man whose attention he was concerned with.

Mr. Fine, the very man the bouncer was leading him to. Trev strutted, making sure to hold his head high and swing his hips. He wanted Mr. Fine to take in every gorgeous inch of him, and he was pleased with how his hard expression cracked as he looked Trev over with clear appreciation.

Damn right.

"You know the rules," the bouncer told Mr. Fine firmly. "You and your friend get the room, you do your thing, and no rough stuff. Got it?"

"Understood," Mr. Fine said as he took Trev's hand. He smirked, laying a kiss across Trev's knuckles. "I'll be on my best behavior."

Of course Mr. Fine had a deliciously sexy voice. It was deep and rumbling with heavy bass that Trev couldn't wait to hear groaning out his name. That little kiss was a nice touch too.

"Come on." The bouncer led them through the curtained doorway into the hall and to the suite at the end.

Trev was only slightly impressed. After all, he'd entertained here before, and anyone could rent it if they had enough cash. It was a lush bedroom with a king-sized four-poster bed, a plush chaise, two overstuffed sofas, and a fully stocked bar. A cabinet beside the bar held a variety of toys and supplies, and Trev knew from his previous visits that it was restocked with fresh items daily.

The bouncer opened the door for them, ushering them inside with a polite tip of his head. "You gentlemen have a nice night now."

"Thank you." Mr. Fine shut the door, and he turned to Trev. He was still holding his hand. "My name is Jupiter Prospero. You will refer to me as sir. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Trev replied obediently.

He knew the drill.

This wasn't the first time he'd been with a man who got off on telling him what to do. He knew how to play the willing submissive, and he was actually excited to see what Jupiter was going to do with him. It had been quite some time since he'd been with an aggressive man, and there was something relaxing about falling into a familiar role.

And with any luck, the sex would be worth it.

"What's your name?" Jupiter asked.

"Whatever my sir would like it to be," Trev replied with a bat of his eyes.

"Name." Jupiter tilted his head, regarding Trev as one would a disruptive pet.

All right.

Jupiter didn't like him playing coy.

Switching gears, Trev decided to give an honest answer. "Trevanion. Trev."

Jupiter smiled. "Last name?"

Now it was Trev's turn to give Jupiter a scolding look. Their time together wasn't meant to be a game of twenty questions, and restricting the flow of personal information was critical for his safety. He'd dealt with his share of creeps, weirdos, and would-be stalkers, and his instincts told him to lie.

Then again, Jupiter was a member of the powerful criminal family that ran the city. That presented a new set of risks, and Trev weighed his options. His gut still told him to lie, but his brain reminded him that Jupiter was armed.

"Usher," Trev said at last. He put on a sweet smile and let his eyes fall to Jupiter's lips. He needed to redirect the course of this conversation and fast. "How would you like to begin, sir? I'm yours to?—"

"Fix me a drink."

Damn. Too fast?

Jupiter released Trev's hand with a kiss. "Whiskey on the rocks, please."

While that wasn't quite the command Trev was expecting, he did as he was told and headed to the bar. "Of course, sir."

Jupiter sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you from around here, Trev?"

"No." Trev filled a short glass with ice and then grabbed a bottle of whiskey.

"Where?"

"Born in Strassen Springs, moved here when I was a kid."

"Parents?"

"Dead," Trev replied flatly as he poured. He didn't understand why Jupiter wanted to ask him stupid questions instead of taking off his clothes, but he knew it was in his best interest to play along.

"What happened?" Jupiter pressed.

"Dad, car accident before we moved. Mom, a stroke a few years ago." Trev brought the drink over to Jupiter, standing before him and gazing down at him. For the moment, he could enjoy being taller than Jupiter since he was seated, and he longed to plunge his fingers into Jupiter's dark waves.

Jupiter's brow furrowed as he accepted the glass. "Sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, sir."

"Brothers? Sisters?"

"No sir."

"Just you then?"

"Just me, sir." Trev watched Jupiter sip the whiskey, and he put his hands on his hips.

It was getting harder to play the cute submissive while being interrogated. Something about this felt off, but he couldn't quite place what it was. Jupiter was certainly giving him the right kind of vibes to take him on a trip straight to pound town, but then why was he asking all of these strange questions?

Why did it feel like getting off wasn't Jupiter's goal, that getting something else was?

Information?

But what ? And why?

Trev didn't have anything to hide. Technically, he wasn't involved with anything that would be of interest to a gangster. What he did for Allan Electronics was laughably small time, and his time as a sex worker was hardly of note.

Be careful tonight .

They want blood .

Juicy's cryptic warning slipped back to the forefront of Trev's mind, but he ignored it. If Jupiter really wanted his blood, he would have skipped this whole song and dance.

Jupiter tugged at the hem of Trev's panties, his thumb swiping down over a dark spot on Trev's upper thigh. "Tattoo?"

"Birthmark," Trev replied.

It was a small splotch that resembled a lopsided heart.

"Cute." Jupiter traced the shape with his thumb.

"Cute, huh?" Trev dared to reach out and drag his fingers through Jupiter's hair the way he'd been dying to. It was softer than he'd thought, and he resisted the urge to give it a cruel tug. Having that particular part of himself called cute annoyed him, and he was becoming impatient.

He didn't want to answer more questions.

He didn't want to screw around.

He wanted to do what he came here to do. He wanted to fuck.

Trev twisted his fingers to tease the barest amount of pressure as he taunted, "I think the word you were looking for is gorgeous."

"Oh?" Jupiter's eyes cut up to meet Trev's, and he smirked. "No doubt about that."

"So." Trev flashed his teeth. "Shall we begin? Or did you have any other questions?" He had to fight not to roll his eyes as he added, "Sir?"

"Kneel."

Thank fuck .

"Yes, sir." Trev dropped between Jupiter's spread legs, but he didn't touch yet. He knew Jupiter would probably want to tell him what to do now that they were finally starting, and he couldn't wait. He didn't have to fake being turned on when he looked at Jupiter.

God, he was beautiful.

Trev wanted to lick that damn scar so badly he couldn't stand it, and he wanted to kiss those lush lips and feel them all over his body. He shivered when Jupiter touched his face, and he leaned into his palm with a soft sigh, awaiting Jupiter's next command.

"You're good," Jupiter said, tapping Trev's chin with his thumb. "You wear your mask very well."

Trev flinched.

Jupiter had yet again surprised him.

"I don't know what you mean," he said carefully.

"No?" Jupiter chuckled. "I think it's killing you not to be in charge. You're down to fuck because you're attracted to me, but you hate this, don't you?" He set his glass on the bedside table. "Having to pretend?"

"Don't you?" Trev shot back.

"Excuse me?"

"Gorgeous guy like you paying for it? Please." Trev snorted, the gears in his mind turning fast as he scanned Jupiter's face. "You're only here because there must be something you want that you can't get anywhere else. You want obedience but quality without the headache. Hard to find that on Grindr, but you don't like the bullshit either. The pretending. The masks ."

"Oh?" Jupiter smiled. "I suppose you think you're what I'm looking for then, huh?"

"I know I am, sir." Trev flicked out his tongue to catch the side of Jupiter's finger. "After all, I'm still here, aren't I?"

"That's true," Jupiter mused. "But let's keep pretending for a moment."

"Why?"

"For my own amusement. Tell me. What if we met in a bar?" Jupiter chuckled. "Do you think we'd still end up somewhere alone together? Would you approach me? Try to charm me into your bed?"

"I don't go to bars but if I did, you'd come to me." Trev didn't think he was being arrogant if it was the truth. He could see how Jupiter looked at him, and he suspected that Jupiter valued honesty. "You wouldn't be able to keep your eyes off me. You'd probably order me a drink, something expensive to impress me. You'd wait for me to drink it and then you'd walk over to introduce yourself."

"What would I say?"

"You'd tell me your name, probably compliment me, and then…" Trev glanced over Jupiter's lips. "Maybe you'd tell me to pick a safe word and see how I reacted so you could take me right there. Or maybe you'd want to talk with me, feel me out to see if I can really give you what you want, enjoy the thrill of the chase."

Jupiter scoffed. "What if I said I'm not much for the chase?"

"You would be for me," Trev challenged.

"Perhaps." Jupiter traced the line of Trev's jaw. "So, what? We'd spend all evening together, drinking, sharing secrets? Would that be enough?"

"Yes, sir. You could have had me from the moment you asked me for a safe word."

"That easy?"

"For the right man, yes." Trev didn't see any point in denying it. "I have needs too. And you look like you'd be the right kind of man to give it to me."

Jupiter chuckled low. "Do I?"

"Big. Strong. No bullshit."

"Is that what your Grindr profile says?"

"Pretty much, sir."

"Let me guess. Sugar baby looking for his big, strong daddy?"

Trev gritted his teeth. "No."

"No?"

Trev held his head high, and any pretenses of flirting fell away as he said firmly, "I don't need a daddy . I don't need anyone to take care of me. The only thing I need from a man is a good time for a short while and when we're done, to leave quietly without a fuss."

"Is that why you do this? A little bit of fun without the fuss?"

"Isn't that why you're doing it?" Trev easily deflected. "Have some fun, no strings attached, and we both get what we want?"

"There you go again, so sure that you know what I want."

"You tell me. You're the one who wants to play games, sir."

"Am I?"

"Giving me the third degree when you could be giving me your cock?" Trev arched his brows. "Sounds like a game to me. If this is your idea of foreplay, there's definite room for improvement, sir."

"Just having a bit of fun." Jupiter winked. "That's all."

"Not exactly the sort of fun I imagine you paid for, sir."

"Not quite." Jupiter shrugged. "But perhaps I'm no longer in the mood."

Trev laughed, and he dared to squeeze Jupiter's thigh. "As if you're going to let me go tonight without knowing what it's like to fuck me."

"Wow!" Jupiter laughed. "Your confidence is incredible, baby doll."

"Simply stating facts." Trev leaned in close, looking up at Jupiter through his lashes. "I don't know what you paid, but you don't even care, do you? Because you knew it was going to be worth it the moment you saw me."

"Let's say you're right." Jupiter glanced over Trev's body. "Let's say you are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen…"

Trev already knew he was.

"Do you really think you can give me what I want?" Jupiter's voice dropped to a hypnotic growl. "Can you fulfill my darkest desires? Will you be totally and utterly mine?"

"For tonight, sir, I'm whatever you want me to be."

"Excellent." Jupiter hummed thoughtfully, reaching around to unsnap the hooks of Trev's bralette one-handed.

Trev shrugged his shoulders so that the bralette would fall to the floor. His cock was hard, straining the lace of his tiny thong. He was done with talking. He was dying to get his hands on Jupiter's bulging muscles, especially the one between his legs, but he doubted Jupiter would undress beyond what was necessary to fuck.

Hey, Trev could still dream.

Jupiter touched Trev's chin again. "Stay just as you are, baby doll. You're going to suck me first."

"Yes, sir." Trev's mouth filled with spit from the mere thought of having Jupiter in it, and his heart pounded in a frantic rhythm, nearly as hard and fast as he hoped Jupiter was gonna fuck him.

Jupiter unbuckled his belt, and the drag of his zipper that followed was torturously slow. He clearly knew how much Trev wanted him, and this was a practice in sexual sadism.

But finally, finally , they were going to get to the real action. Whatever bullshit Jupiter had tried to weave about resisting Trev and peppering him with weird questions was crumbling in the wake of his clear lust.

Trev had won this game as far as he was concerned, and he couldn't wait to?—

There was a knock at the door.

Trev ignored it.

Jupiter stopped just short of pulling out his cock, and he glared at the door.

The knocking turned into impatient banging that rattled the entire frame.

"The fuck?" Jupiter barked.

"It's Emil! Come on!" a gruff male voice barked back. "Let's go!"

"Is it him or not?" another male voice demanded. "You're not supposed to be getting your fucking knob polished in there, all right?"

"Let's go!" the first voice demanded. "Does he have the fucking heart thing or not?"

Trev's blood froze.

The heart thing?

His birthmark.

No, there was no way…

Trev immediately peeled himself away, fumbling on his tall heels. He retreated until his back hit the far wall. "What the actual fuck is going on?"

"Shhh, calm yourself, baby doll." Jupiter zipped his pants back up with a faint scowl. "Let me handle this."

"Handle it, my ass!" Trev snapped.

"I think you meant, handle it, my ass, sir ."

"Fuck you!"

"Such language," Jupiter tutted.

"Jupe! What's the fucking deal?" The second voice sounded annoyed. "Can we come in or not?"

"You think he's fuckin' him?" the first one asked.

"I mean, I'd fuck him."

"You would, you freak."

Trev decided very quickly that it was in his best interest to get the hell out of there. He didn't know what these men wanted, how they knew about his birthmark, or if this was all some sort of insane setup. Those were all fabulous questions that could be answered never as far as he was concerned.

"Your time is officially up, sir," Trev said firmly. "It's been fun, really, but that's my cue to turn into a pumpkin for the night."

"Oh, that's where you're mistaken." Jupiter chuckled as he fixed his belt. "You're not going anywhere."

"Look at that! All those looks and a sense of humor. Love it. Great. So sorry we didn't get to fuck. Bye now." Trev started toward the door, but Jupiter rose from the bed to cut him off. "Move."

"We're not done yet," Jupiter warned. "My family wants to have a little chat with you."

"Sorry, really, but I've had enough chitchat and fucking around without actually being fucked around with for one night." Trev narrowed his eyes, and his lean frame tensed for a fight. Jupiter was between him and the door, and that was a problem. "You paid for me to entertain you for the evening. That's it. Your time went ding as soon as your little friends started banging on the fucking door. So, I'm leaving."

"I'm afraid not. I have further need of your company." Jupiter offered his hand. "Play nicely and?—"

"Hate to be the one to break the tragic news to you, but tonight was the last fucking time I was ever gonna do this stupid ass bullshit. And wow, it was great to go out with a big bang and all, or not, but I'll be going now." Trev tried to step around Jupiter.

"No." Jupiter grabbed Trev's shoulder.

Trev had nothing on except for his heels, thong, and a growing sneer, but he glared at Jupiter without a shred of hesitation as he snapped, "Take your fucking hand off me or I will fucking kill you."

"Yeah?" Jupiter reached now for Trev's jaw. "How would you do it? Hmm? Tell me."

Fear spiked inside of Trev's very core because there was absolutely no way he could kill Jupiter. Other than the complex moralities involved with taking a life even in self-defense, he was practically fucking naked.

His odds were not great.

Trev hesitated. "You don't want me to spoil the surprise, do you?"

Jupiter smirked. "Please. Try."

"Well… Fuck you!" Trev tried to bolt around Jupiter. "Security! Hey! Code Peach! Fucking Code Peach !"

The only reply he heard on the other side of the door was those two men laughing. That couldn't be good. The code phrase was meant to alert the bouncers to come in and end the evening in case of emergencies. Someone was always supposed to be listening to ensure a quick response.

Jupiter grabbed Trev's arm. "They're not coming, baby doll."

Trev immediately went berserk, flailing like a wild animal as he snarled, "Hey! Let the fuck go of me!" He was deeply satisfied when his elbow caught Jupiter's nose, but his victory was short-lived when Jupiter scooped him up like a struggling kitten and then simply tossed him over his shoulder. "The fuck!"

"Settle down," Jupiter scolded, carrying Trev back over toward the bed.

Trev tried to arch up and pull away, but he smacked his head on the ceiling. "Shit!"

"You're going to help us negotiate a little deal with your brother. All I need you to do is?—"

"You are fucking insane!" Trev kicked defiantly, wishing he could draw his knee up high enough to nail Jupiter's groin. "Hello! I don't have a fucking brother."

"You really don't know, do you?" Jupiter searched Trev's face as if he was actually surprised.

"Know what?" Trev spat.

"Who your brother is."

"Oh, ha ha! You're just hilarious." Trev rolled his eyes. "I already told you! I don't have any brothers or sisters! Only child, remember?"

"That you know of."

"Right." Trev scoffed. "Tell me, genius. Who's this mysterious brother of mine then?"

"Roderick Legrand," Jupiter replied.

"Never heard of him."

"Well, he is known by another name."

"Yeah, and what's that? The fuckin' Easter Bunny?"

"Boss Cold."