by Cari Z
Well, no plan was better than a plan that didn’t involve Devon. And now to take that next step… “I was wondering if after the job is over, if maybe you’d like to go someplace. With me.”
Rio’s eyebrows drew together, but not in a bad, glowering way, more in a pensive way. “Like a vacation?”
“Yes, like that.” Devon covered his nerves with a saucy smile. “What, don’t you go on vacations?”
“The closest I’ve come to a vacation in the past five years was the three days we just spent with your dads, Dev.”
“Well, that’s just sad,” Devon scoffed. “I mean, I love them, but staying in a house with my dads and their three demonic foster kids is nothing like relaxing. The universe owes you a vacation; you must have so many good karma points racked up.”
Rio stroked Devon’s arms idly. “I doubt it. I’ve got a lot to make up for.”
“Right, because you haven’t spent half your life hunting demons.” Devon rolled his eyes.
“Right,” Rio agreed softly. He had that look on his face, that distant look that meant he was thinking about something sad, something he probably had no intention of sharing with Devon. The only cure Devon had for that look was to move things to another topic and hope that someday, Rio would trust him enough to tell him what he had done in his life that was so terrible he still felt guilty for it.
“So, what’s Maria got for us?”
Just like that, the heaviness was gone as if it had never been there. “Not much,” Rio admitted. “Just the basics. The owner’s name is Penelope Giancarlo, and the only thing Maria really knows about her is that that isn’t her real name. The club has only been in business for about a year, when Stiles moved here from Rome with her daughter. Maria couldn’t place her whereabouts before that.”
“From Rome. Great.” Fan-fucking-tastic. “So she and Porter are probably old friends.”
“It’s likely, seeing as she’s the one he’s been taking back to his penthouse suite every evening. She’s hired a number of girls to work the place, ‘models who serve,’ apparently. No male employees apart from the bouncers at the front desk. She’s a little more traditional about gender roles than Saint Peter seemed to be.”
Devon felt like saluting his own intuition. “Good thing I prepared for that eventuality.”
“Did you now?”
Devon leaned in closer and laid his lips against Rio’s ear. “I did. Would you like to see?” he offered. Fuck it; Devon would wear a bunny costume if that was what would get Rio off.
“I don’t need you to be anything other than yourself,” Rio replied, his husky voice sending a shiver through Devon’s groin.
“That’s not a no,” Devon murmured suggestively. “Everything I need is right there in the bag…”
“Everything I need is right here on my lap,” Rio said, pressing a kiss to the sharp line of Devon’s jaw. “You are horrible for my work ethic, you know that?”
“If there was anything else important to say, you’d never have let me get this far,” Devon pointed out breathlessly. “Yes, fuck, your mouth…”
“You want my mouth, baby?”
I want you to keep calling me baby. “Yes,” Devon said. “Yes, please.” He could feel Rio was still mostly soft, but that didn’t stop him from picking Devon up turning them over so that Devon was beneath him on the bed. Devon had yet to meet a normal person who could keep up with his libido, but the fact that Rio wanted to touch him even when he didn’t want to get off himself was perilously close to what Devon wanted: a real relationship, the simple joy of giving someone else pleasure for no other reason than that you loved them without the expectation of anything in return.
Devon groaned as Rio pressed him into the mattress, pushing down with all of his mass so that Devon felt surrounded, overwhelmed and kept and amazing. They’d figured out that he liked this early on; he liked the sensation of being bound if Rio was the one doing it to him. It hadn’t worked out so well with other people in the past, but Rio was so unmistakably himself there was no way Devon could ever mistake him for anyone else.
“Keep your hands behind your head, baby,” Rio told him before kissing a path down his chest. The fine, expensive shirt Devon wore was thin enough to feel the ridges of Rio’s lips through, and by the time Rio made it down to his groin, Devon was clenching his hands in his own curls with the effort of keeping them off of his lover.
Rio undid Devon’s belt and opened up his pants, going so much slower than he normally did that it was almost enough to drive Devon insane. Then again, Devon was usually the one in the driver’s seat, controlling how fast they went and what they did. This time Rio was the one in control, and he let Devon know it with each deliberate, time-consuming movement he made. Every slow brush of lips, every nuzzle of his nose into the flesh of Devon’s hips and thighs, his mouth so close and teasing. Devon whined and dug his fingers harder into his own head, and Rio stopped moving.
“Stop damaging yourself,” he chided, rubbing at Devon’s clenched forearms until the muscles relaxed some. “This is supposed to be painless.”
“Sometimes pain is nice,” Devon said earnestly, because wow, sometimes it really was. There was a time when he didn’t think he’d ever be able to handle sex and pain together at the same time again, but time had healed a lot of those wounds. With the right person, Devon liked the edge pain put on things, and Rio was, like, the archetype of Devon’s idea of “the right person.”
“But not right now,” Rio said, pressing Devon’s arms further into the mattress, heavy and controlling. “Right now I just want you to relax and be quiet and let me do this. Got it?”
“How quiet?” Devon asked cheekily. “Because I have plenty of evidence that suggests you really, really like it when I’m loud—oh, holy fuck…” He trailed off into a sigh as Rio finally got down to business, closing his lips over the head of Devon’s cock and sucking gently.
When Rio gave head, when he took the time to do it instead of letting Devon fuck his face like a pro, he was thoughtful about it. Detailed. Not getting lost in it, but rather paying attention to every little detail. He started soft, no suction, just the wetness of his tongue and the heat of his mouth slipping up and down Devon’s cock. There was no hint of teeth, no roughness at all; it was the most genteel blowjob Devon had maybe ever gotten. It was sweet and thorough and Devon felt his tension ebb as he started to understand Rio’s rhythm, or as he thought he began to understand. Naturally, that was when the bastard went and changed things.
It was just a light touch against his balls, cupping rather than rolling or pulling. No fingers in his ass, no anal play at all—just holding. As soon as Devon adapted to that, Rio changed things again, sucking at the head now, rolling his slick tongue around the edge of the crown and against the slit before sliding back down. Devon thrust up weakly, unable to get the leverage he wanted and not too sad about that. He let Rio gentle him back down, rubbing a soothing finger along the smooth skin of his perineum.
“Rio,” he whispered, wanting the tenderness but almost unable to deal with it. Nothing hard, nothing fast—just slow, smooth motions that somehow made Devon’s head spin. “Rio, please.” Devon wanted to come—he could come at any time, really—but he wanted some sort of sign, a signal that it was okay.
Rio hummed as he took Devon as deep as he could go, and that was sign enough. Devon’s orgasm spooled out from his core, slow and languorous enough to make him shiver. Rio took it all and pulled off slowly, then kissed the inside of Devon’s thigh. “Feel better, baby?”
“Mm, yes, tesoro mio,” Devon said with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the surprised look in Rio’s face when he threw the man’s pet name right back at him. “So much better. This is good; I might not have to jump Steven tonight after all.”
“But he’ll be so disappointed if you don’t,” Rio said dryly, sitting back on his heels.
“I think he’s scared of what you’d do to him if I did.”
If Devon had maybe been hoping t
hat would prompt a display of possessiveness, he was wrong. “You’re a good judge of what’s necessary on a mission. Do what you have to to maintain your cover.” Before Devon could summon up a pout over that, Rio continued, “Just remember who you’re coming back to when this is all over.”
“Would that be you?” Devon asked, trying for coy but probably coming off as hopeful instead.
“Unless you plan on taking a vacation with someone else.”
“Nope!” Devon chirped, sitting up and pulling Rio closer. “No one else!” They shared a brief, soft kiss before parting again. “I’m going to go shower,” Devon announced. “You fill Steven in and keep an eye out for Grey. I want to get this done.”
“That makes two of us,” Rio assured him.
Chapter Nineteen
It was well past dark by the time they got to the club. That was good, because Rio’s truck was nowhere near the caliber of the other cars pulling up to the place, and he needed to be relatively close in order to make for effective back-up. Although, the possibility of him going into a crowded Seattle club the same way he had into the Pearly Gates, guns blazing, was no one’s idea of a good time.
“Seriously, mate,” Steven demanded as he hopped down from the back of the truck. “What possible use could you have for that many grenades?” Devon followed him more delicately, and immediately set about righting the careful creases that Steven’s leap had undone. “Damn Americans and your bloody love of firearms.”
“I like to err on the side of caution.”
“Yeah well, there’s caution and then there’s bein’ a walkin’ one-man arsenal.”
“Stop throwing your arms out when you gesture,” Devon demanded, tugging at Steven’s jacket. “You’re ruining the fit of the shoulders.” He twisted the back of his earring communicator, then looked at Rio. “Testing, testing.”
“I hear you perfectly,” Rio said. “And Maria’s listening in from here on out, in case we need help getting more information.”
“Perfect.” Devon turned and faced Steven. “Ready for the main event?”
“Ready as I can be,” Steven grumbled, still looking discomfited.
Devon leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear, “Put your dance face on then, darling, it’s time to waltz.” He smiled and turned Steven smoothly toward the entrance to the club, then looked over his shoulder and winked at Rio. “We’ll be back before you have time to miss us.”
“Too late.”
“No unresolved sexual tension between the two of you, is there?” Steven said under his breath.
“I prefer the fully resolved, wholly satisfied type of sexual tension,” Devon replied, throwing an arm over Steven’s shoulders and leaning in close. “Now, what’s going on at the door?”
“Not much. Just one bouncer.”
“Perfect. Let’s wait for the gentleman ahead of us to go in, and then we’ll see if you can do what you say you can do.” Devon pulled away with a little laugh and clapped Steven on the back when he scowled at him.
“You doubt me? Oh, mate, you’re gonna regret it,” Steven said. “Never bet against the house; it’s a surefire way to lose your shirt.”
“Hmm, not a real dissuasion for me,” Devon mused. The bouncer at the door, a tall black man in a suit at least as nice as Steven’s, focused on them as they got closer. “I still say I’ve got to see it to believe it.”
“Oh you will. Here, this gent can help us out.” Steven stopped in front of the bouncer. “Mind settlin’ an argument for us?”
“Names?” the man said implacably.
“Yeah, half a mo, just help us out with this first.”
“Names, or take yourself back to wherever it is you came from,” the man growled. Steven looked offended.
“I came from England, mate. What, you can’t tell? S’not exactly the most difficult nationality to place, I mean, listen to me. Hell, you need more proof, look here.” And he reached up and tapped his left palm squarely on the man’s forehead. The bouncer slowly reeled backward, his eyes fluttering for a moment. Steven exhaled heavily and lowered his hand, shaking it out a little. “Stings a bit,” he muttered, then asked, “So, we’re good then, yeah?”
There was a nervous moment’s pause as the bouncer refocused on them, staring intently. He ground his teeth, clenched his fists, and then opened his mouth to speak. Devon braced himself.
“You two can go on in.”
“Lovely,” Steven said smoothly. “Thanks ever so much, mate.” Now it was his turn to steer Devon along, opening the door and smugly ushering him into the club.
“I take it that worked well, then,” Rio said over the com.
“Better than I thought it would,” Devon murmured, looking around the sumptuous foyer. If the Pearly Gates had been designed in pursuit of Heaven’s waiting room, Infinite was drawing more inspiration from the western idea of a Persian harem. Everywhere was velvet, satin and silk, all of it in rich colors. The floor was hand-crafted parquet, and the only sources of light were the crystal chandeliers and the bronze candelabra set in the walls. A beautiful woman in a dark red dress began walking their way, smile firmly in place.
“You ready to do it again?” Devon asked.
“Don’t reckon I have much choice,” Steven replied before turning to the girl. “Hello, pet.”
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said sweetly. “Is this your first time visiting Infinite?”
“Yes, yes it is.” Steven looked her up and down appreciatively. “What do you suggest we start with?”
Her smile remained perfectly unchanged, but something about her seemed to chill. “All first-time visitors begin their evening in the lounge, as I’m sure you’ve been told, Mister…?”
“Right, enough of that.” Steven touched his hand to her head, then closed his own eyes. Devon watched raptly, fascinated by the rapid twitching of both their eyes beneath the lids.
After about ten seconds, Steven pulled back, exhaling explosively. “God, that’s hard,” he groaned. “The main lounge isn’t the place we want, it’s purely small time. Your boy’s at the bar in the back. Not private, but no one gets back there unescorted by one of the girls.”
“Can you get us there?” Devon asked, one hand braced on the woman’s back to keep her from falling over. Her eyes were still closed.
“Yeah, I can find it, but…” He looked doubtfully at Devon. “You really think you can pull off lookin’ like a bird, mate?”
“I wouldn’t say I could do something if I couldn’t really do it,” Devon assured him. “Is she going to be all right?”
“Far as she knows she’s already waved us through. We should put her back where she was before, though.”
“Can she walk like this?”
“I don’t know, all right? Didn’t have a lot of time to test all the effects of this particular tattoo,” Steven hissed. “But we’d better get her back there before the next bloke comes through the door and wonders why she’s standing here with her eyes closed.”
“Good point.”
“And you should do it fast,” Rio added. “Another car’s just pulled up.”
“Right.”
“What’s he say?” Steven demanded.
“That we need to hurry.” Tentatively Devon put his hands on the girl’s shoulders. Her eyes stayed closed. “Great, okay…now let’s move this way.” He tried to push her, but that just made her lean backwards. “Okay, her feet don’t want to move.”
“Drag her, then.”
“Here, let’s just—” Steven bent over and grabbed her ankles. “On three, right?” Devon got his arms under her shoulders and nodded. “One, two, three!” They picked the girl up and carried her back to the corner she’d been in when they arrived. “I’m settin’ her feet down…easy, easy…”
“Got her,” Devon said. Only now she wouldn’t stand. “She’ll stay up if we just…prop her here, right?”
“Already told you I don’t know,” Steven said with a roll of his eyes. “But—”
/>
The door started to open. Fortunately, the girl regained her equilibrium just then, stepping forward out of Devon’s arms as if she couldn’t see either of them. Steven grabbed Devon’s arm and towed him down the hall on the right. At the end of the hall was a door with a keypad next to it, and to the side were a series of rooms. Some of them were very noisily occupied, but Steven found one that wasn’t and pushed them inside.
“Interesting side effects,” Devon noted.
“Look, you’ve got nothin’ to complain about, ‘cause here we are, still standing,” Steven told him. “And I know the combo to that door, so how ‘bout you work your magic and get your girl face on, yeah? See if it’s as good as you say.”
“It’s magical,” Devon assured him. “Turn around, though.”
Steven smiled sarcastically. “What, you getting stage fright, mate?”
“No, but the effect is so much better when you don’t watch the setup,” Devon said. “Now turn, make sure we don’t get interrupted.”
“If that’s the way you want it.” Steven turned around, and Devon got to work dismantling his suit.
There were suits for impressing people, and then there were suits for hard use. This was one he’d had Rio help him modify while they were on hiatus in Florence on the off chance he’d need it. How fortunate they’d taken the time.
The jacket came off first. Hidden under the pocket square was a small makeup bag, enough for a few applications, and at the small of Devon’s back was a tightly-wrapped wig, which he shook out and put on. It blended with his natural curls to make his current hairstyle just a little longer and much more believable than going blonde or red. Devon took off the shirt next, pushed down the black lace sheath that had kept the bra he was already wearing from ruining the line of the suit, then plucked a pair of discreet shoulder pads out of the jacket and used them to nicely plump out the smooth violet cups. Beneath his tie was a black velvet choker with a pendant in front that functioned as a camera, transmitting to Rio’s tablet. That had come from Rio’s bag of tricks, a surprising find amongst the cases of ammo and well-kept firearms. Devon took a moment to switch it on. “Are you seeing this?” he asked.