The Devil of Downtown

by Joanna Shupe

  “There’s a fellow upstairs. Sees one of the girls here on the regular. He’s run out on his wife. We’re going to convince him to return to her.”

  “Got it.”

  Rye joined them and Jack took a step toward the World—then froze in his tracks.

  Justine stood a few feet away, her face and hair obscured by a thick black cloak. “You weren’t going in without me, were you?”

  “What are you doing here?” he growled. His gaze swept the street, looking for trouble. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “I told you I was coming.” She walked toward them and smiled at the man on Jack’s left. “Hello, Rye.”

  Rye grinned and tipped his derby. “Miss.” The older man had taken a shine to Justine after the bowling. Annoyingly, he’d been singing her praises for almost two full days.

  “I’m Cooper,” the younger man said, and Jack had to suppress the urge to smack both of his men.

  “Hello, Mr. Cooper. I am Justine.”

  “Excuse us, fellows.” Jack grabbed Justine’s hand and pulled her out of earshot. “Chérie, this is a dangerous spot after dark. I don’t like the idea of you waiting here by yourself.”

  “I wasn’t by myself. I stayed in a carriage across the street until I saw you arrive.”

  He sighed. She wasn’t getting it. “You need to let Rye take you home. Or to my home. Anywhere but here.”

  “Jack,” she said in a low, soft voice, one that spoke of intimacy and affection, and the sound was like a caress to his balls. “I’ve had enough of lectures this week. I’m perfectly safe with you. So let’s go take care of Mr. von Briesen. Then perhaps we might find some privacy and take care of other, more delicate things.”

  Christ almighty. His mouth went dry. He didn’t even care if she was managing him. Find some privacy. Fuck, he liked the sound of that. Blood began pulsing in his groin and he would’ve done just about anything she asked at that point.

  Stepping closer, he bent and put his lips near her ear. “We’ll finish this as quickly as I can manage. Then you’d best be wet and ready to take care of those delicate things because they are aching for you.”

  He heard her tiny gasp and smiled. He so enjoyed corrupting his little do-gooder.

  Sweeping out his arm, he said, “Stay close. I’ll kill any man who even looks at you funny.”

  “No, you won’t. Besides, no one will hurt me when I am at your side.”

  True, but this crowd was unpredictable. “Do not drink anything while we’re inside. And do not turn your back or wander off.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” She bit her lip, her eyes gleaming with what he supposed was triumph.

  Resigned, he brought her to where Rye and Cooper waited, his twin shadows not even bothering to look away or pretend they weren’t watching closely. “Do not let her out of your sight,” he told his men. “Not for a single second.”

  Their group started for the door. Rye sidled up to Jack and muttered, “See she’s got you dancin’ to her tune. Now I like her even more.”

  “Fuck off.” He shoved Rye out of the way and hurried to open the door. “I’ll go through first,” he told Justine. “Stay together.”

  She clasped her hands together and waited, the picture of obedience. Jack knew better. She was about as obedient as a wild fox.

  Inside was a crush of lowlifes and degenerates. The saloon reeked of tobacco, piss and sweat. Jesus, had none of these men ever had a bath? Justine remained close, and the three men formed a protective triangle around her as they moved through the crowd.

  The poolroom was still busy, though the racetracks had closed for the day. Now patrons were racing rats on the pool tables, with logs set up like rails. Men were throwing money around, eager to bet on anything, even vermin.

  Jack kept going, directing their group to the brothel’s main door. Soon they were all climbing the stairs, and Jack took his first full deep breath since finding Justine on the front walk.

  Polly appeared at the landing. Her expression was less than welcoming. “I was hoping you’d forgotten.”

  Jack slipped her a wad of cash, which disappeared into the madam’s bodice. “We won’t be long. Just show us which room.”

  “Third door on the left.” She pointed down the hall. “He’s been here about fifteen minutes.”

  Excellent. That meant things should be well underway. Sliding a glance at Justine, he told her, “Wait in the salon.”

  Her brows knitted. “Why?”

  The truth, that he wished to speak to von Briesen alone, would only cause her to dig in her heels. Instead, he went with a partial truth. “Because he’ll likely be undressed. And busy. Let us get him decent, and then you may come in and talk to him.”

  Justine started to speak until Rye put in, “He’s right, miss. You don’t need to be seein’ his dangly bits. Let us get him sorted and then we’ll call you in.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t appear happy about it, but at least she refrained from arguing.

  “Remember what I said,” Jack warned. He didn’t trust Polly any more than the men downstairs.

  “Just hurry.”

  With Rye and Cooper behind him, Jack went to the room where von Briesen was currently “relaxing.” He didn’t bother to knock. Throwing open the door, the three of them stepped inside. Von Briesen was on the bed in just an undergarment, a woman’s head bobbing between his legs. His eyes widened at the intrusion and the woman quickly pulled off, leaving von Briesen to cover himself. “What are you doing here?” His voice had a thick German accent. “This is a private room.”

  Rye shut them in and Jack handed the woman a stack of cash. “Give us a few minutes, will you?” After she left, he thrust his hands in his pockets. “Are you Mr. von Briesen?”

  The man’s head swiveled between Rye, Cooper and Jack. “Y-yes. Why?”

  “You recently left your wife.”

  Von Briesen swallowed. “I don’t see why that is any concern of yours.”

  Jack approached and sat on the side of the bed, his posture relaxed. He took a moment to smooth out his trousers. “My name is Mulligan. I have a little club not far from here called the New Belfast Athletic Club. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

  The other man said nothing but his face paled. His hands began trembling on the bedclothes.

  “I see you have. Good, that saves us time. We’re going to have a quick little chat, the four of us, about your family. Then I’m going to call in a friend of mine and you’re going to tell her how you plan to return to that family.”

  “But . . .” He glanced at the two other men before returning his gaze to Jack. “I do not plan on returning.”

  “You will. Trust me.”

  “No, my wife, she’s always after me about money and helping with the children. I do not want to go back.”

  “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do to convince you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So, he didn’t argue at all?”

  They were now in the carriage, and Justine was having a hard time wrapping her head around how easy the night had been. Von Briesen had eagerly agreed to return to his wife, his eyes even tearing up with remorse. Jack, Cooper and Rye had promised to check up on von Briesen’s wife to ensure the man kept his promise. After that, they’d all departed the World Poolroom.

  It had been so effortless.

  Almost too effortless.

  Cooper had taken another way home so Justine and Jack were alone, with Rye in the driver’s seat. Jack leaned close and traced the shell of her ear with his finger. “He might have argued a little.”

  “So you intimidated him.” Then she remembered the shirtwaist factory owner. “You didn’t . . . beat him, did you?”

  “No beating. We were a bit more creative than that. But he quickly came around to see our way of thinking.”

  “Jack,” she said on a sigh. “I didn’t want you to hurt him.”

  “He leaves unharmed, cara.”

  “Is that the truth?”


  He took her gloved hand and laced their fingers together. Then he kissed her knuckles. “I will never lie to you. I might not give you every tiny detail but I will never lie.”

  “Well, thank you. His wife will be relieved to have him home, though I daresay she might be better off without him. I hadn’t realized as much when I agreed to find him.”

  “Such is the risk when one tracks down these wife deserters.”

  True. “I believe she loves him, though. She was quite distraught at his absence.”

  “If nothing else, the financial support will come as a relief to her.” He kissed her knuckles again and sparks raced along her skin. “Nevertheless, you have done your best in resolving the issue.”

  “Because you helped me.”

  “You would have resolved it without my help, if necessary.”

  “But it would have taken me weeks, perhaps months, to do what you accomplished in three days.” It would be easier if she had a badge and the power to arrest, of course. Her hands were tied because of her gender. Being a woman meant she could not join the New York City police force. At least not yet. She still liked the idea of being the first.

  “As I told you,” he said, “power in this city rests in the hands of those who are strong and those who are rich. I happen to be both.”

  Which made him considerably powerful. At least he was using his influence for good. The shirtwaist factory, the fundraiser. Now von Briesen. Perhaps she was rubbing off on him.

  And really, if the end results were the same, why was she questioning the methods? Mrs. von Briesen would get her husband back sooner and Justine could move on to another case or issue. She could assist someone else in need. Everyone came out ahead.

  “People certainly are more accommodating when you are involved,” she said.

  “True. That is why you should allow me to assist you on all your errands.”

  “Even the boring ones?”

  “I suspect nothing is ever boring with you, chérie.” He turned her hand over and unbuttoned her glove. Then he began removing the cloth from her fingers, one by one. “Now, let’s discuss these delicate matters that require our attention.”

  She angled to see him better in the dim light. His normally bright eyes were dark, his stare almost hypnotic as he watched her. He was so beautiful that her stomach flipped over. “You have something in mind, I suspect.”

  “Of course. I am a first-class deviant, after all.” He tossed her glove onto the seat and started on the other hand. “But you also have a say. What were you thinking?”

  The comment had been made lightly, a way to tease him outside the poolroom. She hadn’t really expected him to push her for answers. Especially when her experience in no way matched his.

  Though she couldn’t deny she had been thinking about it. A lot. In the past two days she had contemplated all the things she and Jack might do together, even the things she’d never attempted before.

  Especially the things she’d never attempted before.

  Skin aflame, she mumbled, “Something akin to the other night. Except reciprocated.”

  “I’m sorry, I could not hear you. You’ll have to say it again and speak up.”

  She nearly rolled her eyes. The scoundrel had heard every word. “You are being difficult and trying to embarrass me.”

  “You are the smartest and bravest woman I’ve ever met. When you want something, you go after it. So, what do you want?”

  The praise melted her insides, and she burned the words into memory for the next time one of her sisters called her naive or sheltered. It also gave her the courage to voice her desires, something she couldn’t have done a few days ago. “I want to explore you. Pleasure you as you pleasured me the other night.”

  He crowded her against the carriage seat, his clean familiar scent wrapping around her. Bringing his face to her neck, he slid his nose along her jaw, his humid breath gusting over her skin. “You wish to take my cock in your mouth. Is that it?”

  She knew the gist of how it worked thanks to Florence’s erotic cards. Justine licked her lips. “Yes. I wish to suck your . . . cock.”

  Groaning, he threw his head back. “Fuck, that gets me so hard. Hearing you say the word cock is like all my darkest fantasies come to life.”

  Indeed? She had no idea she could affect him like this. She, Justine Greene. The boring sister. The one passed over by all the gentlemen at the balls and soirees.

  Surprised and intrigued by her power over him, she sidled closer, crowding him this time. She slipped her hand onto his thigh and moved it higher, slowly, until she reached the bulge in his trousers. Jack froze, his gaze locked on her fingers, as she tentatively touched him through his clothing.

  “Mon ange,” he wheezed. “You are killing me.”

  “Not quite, if you are still able to manage complete sentences.”

  “Throwing my words back at me, I see. Very well, if you want to play, I am more than happy to oblige you.” He turned to glance through the window. “We have several blocks still.”

  She wanted him writhing in ecstasy, as she had been. And the carriage was dark. Intimate. She wasn’t certain she could be so bold in his bedroom. “What if I want to do more than play?”

  “Meaning?”

  She scraped her fingernails over his erection and his expression slackened in surprise as a moan escaped his mouth. He blinked and his lips twisted. “Oh, I see. So, that’s how it is. Angling to make me come, do-gooder?”

  His tone, rough and authoritative and altogether new, had her sex throbbing from a rush of pure lust. The charmer was long gone; this was the man underneath the slick suits and fancy French. She imagined it was the voice he used when ordering his legion of followers to do his bidding. The tone should have irritated her . . . but it had the complete opposite effect. Every cell strained to get closer to him. “I do.”

  “Then take it out.”

  “I . . . What?”

  Silent, he watched her carefully, and she suspected he was testing her. Pushing her to see if she’d follow. You are the smartest and bravest woman I’ve ever met. Indeed, she was, dash it.

  And she wanted this. Desperately.

  She reached for his trouser fastening but he put a hand on hers, stopping her. “Look at me, Justine.” She met his gaze, unsure what he was about. “I might tease you and push you,” he said. “But you do not have to do this. You may stop at any time.”

  His consideration was thoughtful. Unnecessary, but thoughtful. She decided to tease him. “Are you saying you don’t want it?”

  “Oh, I want it all right.” He moved his hands out of the way. “More than you can possibly imagine.”

  Jack held his breath, anticipation crawling through him like a million tiny insects. Was she really going to suck his cock in this carriage? The idea of it was dizzying. Unbelievable. And highly fucking erotic.

  Though she was clearly not a deft hand with men’s clothing, she got his trousers open and undergarment unbuttoned in minutes. He held his breath, nearly coming out of his skin with wanting. Then she wrapped her fingers around his length, her grip strong and sure. She bent and placed a chaste kiss on the tip, the touch featherlight. “How is it so hard and yet so soft at the same time?”

  “One of its many tricks. Keep sucking and licking and you’ll soon see another of its tricks.”

  She smiled seductively at him through her lashes. “I cannot wait.”

  With the flat of her tongue she gave him a long lick. Sparks raced through his groin and he sucked in air. The sight of her mouth on him was almost enough to send him over the edge. “More.”

  With a sweep of her tongue over the crown, she worked around the sensitive ridge then down the shaft itself. Wetting her lips, she slipped him inside her mouth. Tight heat enveloped him, and the back of his head smacked against the wood of the carriage. “Christ, you have no idea how amazing that feels.”

  She hummed, the vibration sinking into his skin and down to his balls. Groaning,
he gripped the edge of the carriage seat and resisted the urge to thrust into her mouth. Then she began to move, her head bobbing as she sucked him. God, he wished he could see her face, watch her lips stretch around his shaft. As it was, he could only see the top of her head and feel her mouth on him. She kept up a steady pace, using her tongue to hit that sweet spot on the underside. Fuck, he liked that.

  Turned out his uptown do-gooder was damn proficient at sucking cock.

  It shouldn’t surprise him. Whatever the task, Justine dedicated herself to it. Selflessly gave and gave with every piece of her soul. And he was bastard enough to take it.

  “I like the way you taste,” she whispered, almost shyly. His blood sizzled at that confession, his balls tightening. He’d give anything to draw this out, to drive around the city for hours while Justine’s mouth kept working on him. But it was too good and he had bigger plans for the night. As it was, they had only a few blocks before they arrived at Bond Street.

  He remembered the way her gaze had darkened when he’d talked to her. She seemed to like it.

  He liked it, too.

  “Wrap your hand around the base,” he told her. “Squeeze me.” One of her hands moved from his thigh to grip the base of his shaft. “Harder, cara.”

  She tightened her fingers and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “God, that’s perfect. Now work the head. Use your tongue on that—” He bit off the words as she read his mind perfectly. The tip of her tongue teased that sensitive spot and he could feel his orgasm building, gathering steam in his toes. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”

  Pulling off briefly, she said, “That is generally the point, is it not?” Then she went back to her task, with the perfect amount of enthusiasm and pressure.

  It was too much.

  Curses tumbled from his mouth, his fingers digging into the velvet seat. His chest heaved as his lids fell closed. The pleasure coiled, sharpened inside him, then radiated outward. His heartbeat echoed in his cock, pulsing, driving the need to thrust. A second later, his muscles tensed. It was too much, too powerful, and he couldn’t stop it if he tried. “Now. I’m coming now,” he growled, warning her.