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Chapter 8: Austin
CarringtonsRule
Vic: So…you must be sleeping, but I’m really curious. Did that poor guy make it to Paris in the end?
Ro: What d’you mean?
Vic: Changed some teeny-weeny details in his travel plans, upon request, mind you
Vic: ??
Ro: WTF? He’s a competitor! You guys are such dickheads
Ro: BTW, you alright Vic?
Vic: Yep, I’m staying in some penthouse with a sexy dude
Ro: Good to hear. Their guy’s alright too, a bit of a freak, but not unfriendly. He sleeps at home, but we’ve got a guy stationed there.
Vic: Cool, thanks babe
Vic: Austin?
Vic: Austin?
Vic: Right, get in touch when you wake up ??
Crazy, loyal fuckers.
I rub my eyes, still feeling a bit groggy from the jetlag, before shooting a few texts to my family and making some much-needed inquiries to an old hockey buddy. Since Connor stumbled back into my life, curiosity has turned to need. I absolutelyneedto know who took that video of him, though the more he reluctantly shows of himself, the less I know whether I want to kill or thank the person responsible. I ask Kai if he can get us tickets for the next Rangers game, but catch myself checking for any chats or emails from Connor.
Because he’s left the hotel. So where the fuck is he? Okay, I guess it was a bit of a low blow messing with his itinerary and planning some bullshit meeting with hisbig bro, just to make him feel uneasy. But, it was kinda funny as well. However, without him around I’m feeling lost in this whole Sherlock Holmes situation. No surprise here, this whole “chasing a murderer on the loose” is not the kind of activity I usually include in my job description. I miss the angry snarls of debt collecting, the fight. Besides, The Business might have information on the murderer, but my family’s still searching in the darkness. I cross my legs over the bed and stretch my tense limbs, before making my way to the bathroom.
Steam fills the air as the water level rises in the king-sized tub. This case troubles me though, and it’s a real pain in the fucking ass that I can’t step up until it’s solved, as was decided by Thomas and my two uncles, the three founders, and effectively, theonlymembers of The Void. It’s always been their choice to work exclusively with freelancers, external specialists they hired for their services, because, at that time, they all had wives and small children. Well, Ro and I might not be official members yet, but together with our cousins, we have been looking for ways to make more money over the next few years. Despite the fact that we are the main provider of the best cocaine throughout the entire northern part of Brooklyn up to the south of Queens, we both strongly dislike drugs. And let’s face it, there are plenty of other ways to make a fortune. Vic loves her real estate and she’s doing a pretty amazing job. Last week’s opening at The Butterfly is direct proof.
I slide into the warm water, run a hand up over my face and hair and let the soap suds fill my nose with that delicious waft of coconut that always lingers around Connor.
Ever since we found out his real name, Vic’s been doing some background digging and I scan through the images she found on the net. I particularly like the one from some boring charity event in which he wears a dark suit that hugs his body as if it were designed for him. Perhaps it was. His auburn hair slicked to the side, he looks every bit the handsome nerd he is, instead of a Donnelly. Though he doesn’t come across as fragile as he seemed before. There’s so much more to him, and though I hate to admit it, ever since our first meeting back at college, he’s somehow gotten under my skin. And that annoys the hell out of me.
The hot water soothes my skin and mind, but only for a short while. I can’t fall asleep again and with every ticking moment, I’m getting more restless. But with my family still sleeping back home and Connor having gone MIA, I’ve got nothing to do. I consider shooting him a text, asking where the hell he is, but the mere thought only results in a seductive tingle racing through my body as my mind starts to fill with images of him. Without thinking, my hand travels down, grabbing my still limp shaft. I give it a few lazy strokes while my memory mocks me with a very clear picture of my shy partner in crime, sitting on my bed at college, wanking off. Fuck yeah, my cock is always in the mood for that specific image and turns rigid embarrassingly fast.
With my free hand, I grab my phone, and for the briefest of moments, I tell myself that I shouldn’t be doing this before I hit the camera button. Fuck it. I’m horny and if Connor hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m about to do. Just the thought of his flushed face when he sees this video, makes my cock jerk and I groan. I crawl my hand up and down my hungry body and follow the shape of my pecs with a finger before I slide all the way down, back to pumping my cock.
“Gotta do something since you’ve left me here on my own,” I mumble as the rhythm of my touch speeds up. Fuck, I need to stop if not I’m going to cum right here on the spot. However, the idea that he’ll watch this drives me mad and a rough chuckle escapes my throat. “You wanna see more? You’d better get back here, then.”
I send the video before my sensibility can kick in and then I lie there contemplating whether I should finish or not. Fuck, I wanthimto finish me. With his hands, or with his mouth. The thought of his lips stretched over my cock makes my hard flesh jerk again.
Patience.
I force my hand to peel away from my arousal, but then my phone rings loudly in my ear, making me jump. I bet it’s Connor losing his mind.
It’s not. “Vic?”
“Hey, babe.” My cousin’s voice is eerily happy for NY time. “He could have asked you, you know.”
I frown. “Who?”
“That dude you’re with. Mia texted me, asking if The Void is family-run. I told her the truth, figured you wouldn’t mind since you were so keen on joining him in Paris.” She sounds smug like the Cheshire cat, and I groan as I let a hand run down my face. Was I that obvious? “Thatdudehas a name. It’s Connor. And yeah, sure, no problem. So Mia was asking you?”
