Tea or Consequences

by KC Burn

  Slow and gentle, he slid a leg between Tad’s, the sensation of hairy skin against hairy skin giving him goose bumps in the best way.

  When Tad’s cock nudged Riley’s hip with growing insistence, his own cock woke up and started taking interest in the situation.

  They writhed sinuously together, slow and sensuous rather than the frenetic pace they’d set previously. Every moment made Riley harder and more eager, but he didn’t have the energy for fucking. He slithered around on the bed, and Tad quickly figured out what he was about. They fitted themselves together, cock to mouth, and Riley sucked in Tad’s solid shaft while Tad’s skilled mouth wrapped around his own cock.

  He groaned around his mouthful, the salt leaking from the slit in Tad’s cock sharper still, and he swirled his tongue around the head.

  Perfection in his mouth, perfection enveloping his cock, and all with minimum energy expenditure.

  Within a few minutes, Tad’s hips started thrusting, sending his cock deeper down Riley’s throat, and Tad’s sucking got a little sloppy, a little more desperate, and a whole lot hotter. Then Tad stiffened and moaned, filling Riley’s mouth.

  Riley swallowed, then gentled his ministrations, resigned to the likelihood he’d have to finish himself off. Then Tad growled around his cock and sucked it deep while cupping his balls, the sudden intense sensation enough to send Riley rocketing into climax. He let Tad’s cock slip from his lips while the orgasm whited out his senses.

  Limbs limp as wet noodles, Riley let Tad shift him back around so they were both lying on the pillows. Tad kissed him gently, and the taste of himself in Tad’s mouth might have revved him into a second round if he wasn’t so fucking exhausted.

  Riley let Tad’s overactive heat generation and the comfort of his arms lull him into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

  Chapter TEN

  THE DAY dawned dark and dreary, as though the weather were affecting a somber mood, but by the time the memorial service at St. Stephen’s was over, the sun was out and beaming brightly, the damp in the cracks of sidewalks and asphalt the only reminder of the morning’s rain.

  The service was well attended. Tad and his partner had chosen to stand at the side of the church, gazes flicking over everyone who arrived. Riley had gotten one quick smile from Tad before his stern police mien returned. Tad had come over last night as well, and they’d ended up sleeping through the night together. Even though they’d had to scramble for them to both get to work in time, after some spectacular oral sex, almost getting into work late hadn’t bothered Riley a bit. It was almost sacrilegious to be as happy as he was today, considering where he was.

  Riley made sure to sit at the back of the church and scamper out as soon as was polite in order to make sure he was at Floriana’s in time to deal with any issues the caterers had. One of the many people Floriana hired to do various things for her had let the caterers into the house, freeing Riley to attend the service, which was nice. Still, he expected he’d be playing the role of butler and general gofer for the entirety of the reception.

  He took advantage of the calm before the storm—excluding the chaos in the kitchen as the caterers set up—to poke around the cupboards in the kitchen. There was no evidence of any sort of pills, much less penicillin.

  A glance at his watch revealed he had at most ten minutes before the mourners hit the house. The family would probably be some of the last to arrive, since they’d be accepting condolences at the church from anyone who wasn’t coming back to the house to eat.

  There would be no point in checking medicine cabinets in any of the “public” guest bathrooms. Riley headed straight upstairs, looking for the master bedroom.

  The pale blue interior with diaphanous sheers and silky bedspread surprised him a little. It was a dreamlike atmosphere for a woman who mostly seemed cold and uncaring.

  A full en suite matched the color scheme with navy and silver accents, but Riley didn’t have the time to admire her decorator’s taste. He flipped open the medicine cabinet. The haphazard organization made him wonder what lay behind the closet door in the bedroom. There were a number of prescription bottles, old and new, from a nearby Shoppers Drug Mart. The most recent prescription, dated the day after Gabrielle’s death, was Valium. Understandable.

  The others Riley recognized were a couple of additional antianxiety meds, an antidepressant, and some prescription-strength muscle relaxants. Nothing in the cabinet was penicillin or amoxicillin or any other kind of -cillin.

  He supposed she could be carrying it with her, or keep it in her car or even somewhere in the lab. This certainly wasn’t conclusive evidence of anything. Huffing out a sigh, he rushed back downstairs. This detecting thing was not nearly as clear-cut as it was in fiction.

  Just in time too. The doorbell rang as soon as he hit the living room.

  RILEY HAD spent the past two hours circulating and making sure everything went without a hitch, much like he’d done at the launch party.

  No one had better die, or Riley would end up a pariah at all social events for some time.

  Tad and his partner hadn’t shown up, which indicated they had some sense of what Floriana would accept. She’d glared at them periodically during the service but hadn’t given in to an outburst. That would not be the case in her own home.

  Aaron had shown up. Riley kept an eye on him, as he’d never seen Aaron interact with his coworkers. Riley’s deduction that Aaron was isolated from just about everybody was borne out in his interactions with the other guests. Many of them greeted him politely, but he didn’t stick with any one social cluster and finally ended up sitting on the side of the couch, plate of food in hand, people watching.

  It was possible, of course, that Aaron suffered from some sort of social anxiety. That could make it difficult for him to develop many interpersonal relationships. But unlike most of their colleagues, he didn’t stare in amazement at Floriana’s beautiful house, the likes of which most of them would never be able to afford if they lived a thousand years.

  So many explanations for that, but he wondered. Could Aaron have had anything to do with Gabrielle’s death? Being on medical leave would be a hell of an alibi. And if the penicillin had indeed been in one of Gabrielle’s tea things, he might have found a way to poison something before he left, knowing the average person probably wouldn’t even notice the addition.

  Riley wasn’t sure that made any more sense than suspecting the three people who profited from Gabrielle’s death. Aaron certainly didn’t profit and might end up in a worse situation than he’d been before. Riley couldn’t speak to Gabrielle’s treatment of Aaron. For all he knew, Aaron had taken medical leave due to some sort of mental breakdown. He might have lied when he said he loved working with Gabrielle, and maybe he hated her enough to plan her death. Aaron had been her assistant for two years. He could have easily known about her allergy.

  “What’s got you gnashing your teeth over here in the corner?” Alisha’s sudden appearance nearly made him cry out.

  “You startled the fuck out of me.”

  “Which wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t trying to stare holes in Aaron’s clothes.”

  “What? No.”

  “He’s not bad-looking, but he is definitely straight. Unlike your detective.”

  Alisha had taken to calling Tad Riley’s detective after she’d figured out Riley was in possession of Tad’s business card, and therefore had the ability to call him whenever he wanted.

  “Not my detective. And are you sure?”

  Alisha discreetly waved at her chest. “Um, yeah, pretty sure. There was also a rumor going around that he and Floriana were involved.”

  Riley’s ears perked up. “Really? Are they?”

  “Nah. Can you imagine Gabrielle allowing that? I bet she had some son of a robber baron all lined up, ready to welcome more wealth to the family.”

  Yet Riley couldn’t quite shake the notion that when he’d visited Aaron there had been a woman there. Aside from the incongruity
of the idea of Floriana becoming enamored of an admin—and based entirely on his own interactions with her—there wasn’t any real evidence that they weren’t involved. Would Tad be interested in such idle speculation? Probably not “date”-worthy, but Riley would try to remember to mention it.

  His head was spinning from the possibilities. He had no idea how Tad kept it all in his head and teased out the tangles to lead to a particular person. Then again, perhaps many of his cases were a little more straightforward or included video or other types of direct evidence.

  No matter what Tad said, Riley had a vested interest in figuring out who was behind Gabrielle’s death, since either by accident or intent, he or she had almost implicated Riley as a murderer.

  If only the asshole had left more obvious clues.

  FRIDAY MORNING was almost anticlimactic. Riley was exhausted—between the memorial service, his raging allergies, and Tad keeping him up nights, he’d stopped at a Starbucks and loaded up on caffeine. A giant latte with an extra four shots of espresso. At his desk, he chugged it, hoping it would kick in soon. Tea couldn’t quite compare.

  Riley logged on but didn’t really start anything. Cody was late, so there were no tasks forthcoming yet. Riley also hadn’t gotten used to the location of his new desk. Almost everything was reversed, like he was trapped in a mirror, with the exception that Cody didn’t have a kitchenette. The executive conference room took its place. Considering a giant part of Riley’s job consisted of diving right in, in unfamiliar environments, he was a little surprised that he was having a hard time. This side of the floor was busier too. Gabrielle had done a good job of setting things up so that her office was apart from the hoi polloi.

  There were good things about being on this side, though. It was easier to chat with the other admins, and many of them he could see from his desk. This side of the floor didn’t seem quite so isolated and quiet. Made him feel safer, although maybe it shouldn’t. The shared kitchen was a pleasant bustle, and while making tea from his carefully protected hoard of tea bags, he’d heard more gossip in the past week than he’d heard since he started with Gautier. No wonder Alisha had her finger on most of the little scandals. Riley was kind of glad she saw fit to filter that sheer amount of information.

  Exactly what positions Ginny had been using to try to get pregnant, and vivid descriptions of Amir’s three kids and their battle with a virulent stomach flu, were things Riley didn’t need in his brain. His very first foray into the communal kitchen the morning after he’d switched desks had exposed him to the information that Martina’s two boys had come home with lice, and the measures taken to prevent further spread… well, he’d itched all day Tuesday and taken a very long, very hot shower when he got home.

  Coming in to work this morning had been a little surreal, since having Thursday afternoon off just messed with his mental schedule, even without the memorial service. A tiny part of him had expected Tad to come barging into Floriana’s house and seclude all the potential suspects in a room, seated in a loose circle, then elucidate his conclusions until one of them confessed, lured into Tad’s trap by a bait-and-switch argument. But that only happened in fiction.

  One time, his gaming group had had a lively debate on a meme Raj had seen postulating that Jessica Fletcher in Murder, She Wrote was probably the most successful and prolific serial killer the fictional world had ever seen, given how many times she “accidentally” stumbled over a murder victim and somehow managed to “discover” evidence that implicated someone else. The end result was the lot of them had agreed that would have made a kickass mind fuck of a series finale.

  By virtue of his position as Gabrielle’s admin, most of upper management had shared their online calendars with him to make meeting scheduling easier. He’d even been desperate enough to start checking back for dental appointments, although preparations for the memorial service had taken up most of his time.

  Scrolling through calendars didn’t seem like an activity that had much return on investment, but with one full event for Gautier under his belt Riley could dig into the mystery of the event invoices, a mystery he was moderately more capable of solving. Maybe.

  He’d no sooner pulled out the files than Cody rolled up, looking the roughest Riley had ever seen him, although in Cody’s case that still meant he was better-looking than 80 percent of the male population.

  “Are you okay?”

  Cody shrugged. “A little hungover. Yesterday was tougher than I thought.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He really hoped Cody hadn’t murdered Gabrielle. He was starting to like Cody. Dammit, he was starting to like all of the likely suspects, and it would pain him to find out any of them was a murderer.

  “No help for it. Can you get me some coffee?”

  “Caffeine today?” Cody had yet to ask for anything but decaf, but then, this was the first time Riley had seen him hungover.

  “Ugh. No, I’d better not. I already drank a small cup of regular coffee on the way in.”

  It was probably an irrational fear, but Riley avoided the kitchenette off Gabrielle’s office. Grabbing coffee from a shared carafe seemed safer than trusting anything that could have been tampered with in the kitchenette. There was something so incredibly malicious about poisoning, making Riley uncomfortably aware how vulnerable everyone was, every day.

  Riley shook off his morbid musings as he poured Cody’s coffee, then added double cream, double sugar. Friday mornings were supposed to be cheery and upbeat, only hours away from the weekend. Tad might randomly decide to drop by again. And then Sunday was gaming day.

  He forced a smile and returned to Cody’s office.

  When he turned to leave, Cody stopped him. “Shut the door, would you? I want to talk to you about something.”

  Any other time and under any other circumstances, those words might make him wary, but as soon as Tad caught the killer, Riley was calling his agency to pull the plug on this contract. There was no way he wanted to continue on here after this. He was keeping Alisha, so he wouldn’t be leaving anything or anyone important to him.

  He did his best to radiate interest and unconcern as he waited for Cody to begin.

  Riley did not expect him to reach into his desk drawer and pull out one of the Invigorate gift packs containing five different Invigorate products.

  Cody held the gift pack and stared down at it. “Floriana came to me and made a suggestion.”

  “A suggestion made with a sledgehammer?”

  That prompted a chuckle from Cody, who then groaned and pressed his fingers to his temples. “Yes, definitely a sledgehammer. Or maybe even C-4. But the thing is, I agree with her. The product is doing well, but the launch has definitely been tainted by the police and their murder investigation. Every review, every mention, ties Gabby’s death to the product, keeping it fresh in the minds of our consumers, even if the media has moved on to more sensational news. She thinks, and I agree, that we need to rebrand and relaunch as soon as possible.”

  Riley relaxed fractionally. This meeting had nothing to do with his performance, and he hadn’t been caught snooping by anyone. Even though he planned to shake Gautier off as soon as possible, he didn’t welcome any tarnish to his thus far sterling reputation. “That makes sense, but when you say rebrand, surely you don’t mean change the color scheme and images and bottle shapes, do you?” The cost to change already produced product would be staggering.

  Cody grimaced. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m hoping a simple change of messaging, a different focus for targeted advertising, will be enough, but we’re going to change the outer packaging as well and test it out on some focus groups.”

  “What can I do to help?” He didn’t think Cody had kept him in here just to shoot the shit about future plans for Invigorate.

  “I have a problem.” Cody sighed. “You know how I always have decaf?”

  “Sure. Although you said you had regular this morning.”

  “And I really shouldn’t have. I had a severe
reaction to caffeine not too long ago. First time Gabby introduced me to her kids, as a matter of fact, although they were under the impression they were meeting their new account manager from Treyhorn Associates.”

  Right. Riley remembered Alisha telling him Cody had been an up-and-comer who’d been given the Gautier account when the previous account manager had retired.

  “Okay. What kind of reaction?”

  “Arrhythmia. Bad enough they had to call 911 because they thought I was having a heart attack. So I have to avoid caffeine.” He stared down at the packaging. “Normally I start all marketing campaigns by personally trying the product so I know what it is, what it does, and if there are any glaring issues that need to be minimized. The reports say caffeine absorption through the skin is far less than a cup of coffee, but in this case, I don’t dare test this out myself.”

  Uh-oh. Riley knew damn well what was coming out of Cody’s mouth next.

  “Can you test it? Let me know what you like and what you don’t? It would be a great help. Gabby mentioned a couple of times she liked that you used her products.”

  Gabrielle had been pleased when he’d told her, but he hadn’t realized she’d retained that tidbit long enough to pass it on to anyone else. Riley picked up the gift set and turned it over in his hands, surreptitiously checking that the box ends were sealed. Then again, it was basically just moisturizing creams and soap. And if Cody were trying to kill him, there were less elaborate and simpler ways to do so.

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Cody smiled and shook his hand.

  Riley’s boss looked positively every shade of gray. “You should probably go home. Get some sleep.”