by V. Theia
The clank of the air conditioning.
The sound of his wife in the other room moving on the creaky bed frame.
Traffic noises from outside making their way through the single paned window.
“Just the two of us.”
Lawless snickered inside. The closet queer wanted more dicking. He had one pounding on his prostate and already panting for more.
“Soon changed your tune, Alex.” Poked Lawless. “Wasn’t an hour ago you said it wasn’t for you.” That was before the guy shot his load all over his wife’s belly when Lawless punched into his prostate with his cock.
Rub. Rub. The tension was abrasive in the miniscule bathroom with the dripping faucet and the cloying air sticking to the damp walls. Lawless enjoyed it inside his twisted, calculating mind more than he should. What was a little fun when you were wrecking a career… possibly a life? Ah well. The needs of the few outweigh those of the many and him and his boys were destined to always come out on top.
You mess with the Renegade Souls only the once then it’s; shit, you seem to have fallen on my sword.
He didn’t have anything personal against this poor, sexually frustrated schmuck, and nor his lovely wife. She was an innocent by product of her idiot husband’s lacking in morality and intelligence and in no way was Lawless and any complicit acts he had to do responsible for her being caught in the crossfire. A man protected his queen. So that was down to Alex.
To test the naughty maggot, he rolled his beefy shoulder, flexing the muscles along his veined forearms and watched the guy’s pupils expand with arousal.
Yeah, dude was a dick chaser. Lawless was like the pied piper for closet submissives these days.
“Yeah, well,” throat clear. “It was fun and all. And, shit. It doesn’t mean anything, right, if you’re with your woman. Like an orgy or something.”
And this guy oversaw millions of dollars. For fucks sake, Lawless almost laughed.
Instead he smirked darkly and rose to his height, he brought a hand out of his pocket, a little white pill between his fingers. The guy widened his eyes. “What’s this?”
“This, lover, is a big ball of fun. Just a little bit of speed to keep us going for a while, I’ve had mine. You want?”
Purposely he shifted his hulking size, pressing his chest to the other, lips curving in a smirk. Letting his offer swirl around the guy like erotic steam.
So easily swayed when he stupidly nodded.
Moron. Never trust a bald guy with bad-news in his eyes.
Lawless dropped the pill onto the popped-out tongue then handed him another before casting his lazy gaze down to the dick poking into his belly.
“You want my cock, Alex?” He asked.
Alex fused with embarrassed arousal. Lawless just bet no one ever asked him outright what he wanted. Secretive queers were exhausting.
He enjoyed what he enjoyed and didn’t give a fuck whether anyone had an opinion about it. His dick, his decision.
The guy nodded and made to move to touch Lawless. Bad fish. “Plenty of time for that, if you want some alone time with me soon.”
“Yeah, man. Yeah.”
Knowing he’d made another human squirm with only the slightest provocation aroused Lawless more than the mediocre climax had.
“Now, go use that big thing on your Mrs, and give her the bag of fun, too. And we’ll get cracking again. I want to really work you out this time.”
Jesus, if Lawless really was interested, this guy’s horny grunt would have done it for him.
But the agenda came first and soon as he heard the catty moans and fucking sounds from the next room he ran the faucet and waited.
Waited.
The noise began to taper off.
No grunts and creaks of the bed.
Game time. He rubbed his hands together and pulled the bathroom door open to find Alex unconscious between the thighs of his equally unconscious wife.
Surprise! Those pills weren’t speed.
At least when they awoke they could get right back to the dicking. Lawless was generous in his forward thinking.
Three days in the planning for this. Five days since he’d used his considerable hacking skills to track this punk down through the online footprints.
Alex Evanson. A boring 9-5 accountant with social media accounts for too many fetish websites who spent an exorbitant amount on queer porn every month. The same man Lawless digitally stalked through all his dirty business to understand how to best manipulate the fucker, was who now working the dirty money and made it all fresh and clean for Grigori Kuznetsov the Russian underboss and current pain in the ass to the Souls.
It wasn’t a chance meeting the other night seeing the couple in that bar.
Nor was it a coincidence how Lawless had charmed and made it very clear how he’d be down for some kinky fun as a threesome.
He’d fucked Zofia ten ways to Easter that night in a rent-by-the-hour motel room not unlike this one, with her randy hubby watching and beating his meat.
Another three days to set this whole little operation up.
Sure, he could have broken in to their house, but he’d seen how Alex carried all his electronic devices on him.
A magpie, indeed.
First things first.
He retrieved a cell phone, pocket book and a 7-inch tablet that wasn’t even password protected from Alex’s jacket. Idiot. Lazily sitting in the armchair, Lawless took his time to dig his sticky fingers through the devices.
And what do you know, the idiocy of the boring accountant with a dick fetish had all the Russian data right there in files sitting waiting for Lawless to come along and copy onto his SD card.
Within the hour he had what he needed and with one final flair for the dramatics he installed micro trojan viruses to scramble Alex’s devices and thus fucking up all of Grigori’s nicely guarded accounts. Fuck you, Russian.
He knew where Grigori’s money was coming from.
Where it was going and who was getting their cuts of the profits.
It was time to cut the snakes head off.
He was an outlaw, maybe one of the deadliest of his time. He loved his bag of toys and would probably weep a tear or three if he ever happened to lose it in an Uber (he didn’t use those kidnap wagons) but not all battles were won using brute force and rivers of blood.
Sometimes the battle had to come from sitting at a boardroom table. Or hacking an impenetrable operating system.
The smarter way to best an enemy was to cut them off at their weakest points, weaken the beast, kill the beast.
And if he wasn’t hitting some poor asshole then Lawless liked nothing better than using his substantial intelligence to play the odds and beat the house.
In this instance Grigori was the house and Lawless was cutting that fool down to size.
One dollar at a time.
Or maybe a few hundred million in a matter of seconds.
They were taking the Bratva down with money and not brute force. As Rider rightly stated when their plan was put into motion, they could easily kill Grigori. But organized crime soon rallied and his boss, Alexei, would have someone to take Grigori’s place in moments.
Nah, if they wanted the Russian mafia out of their territory it was only going to happen one way. And with a few clicks he was well on the way to draining the Russian’s funds he’d amassed in just a few months. The man was greedy. They’d known Grigori was only using the gambling as a stepping stone to bigger activities. And sure enough, if not for the RS having associates in the ports they’d never have known of how Grigori tried to bring his drug money through to clean it real nice on American soil.
Now Lawless was no stranger to cleaning dirty money. Truth be told their club was funded on how they moved money throughout the states and a few Arab emirate countries. The RS money was more travelled than Lawless was, that was a fact.
He wished he could be there to see Grigori’s pasty white face when he realized he was losing money hand over fist
.
It was a good day to become richer, he figured.
He collected his jacket, slid it on with a shrug. He’d leave nothing of himself behind, having wiped down anything he’d touched after he’d slipped both phone and tablet back where he’d found them.
Without giving the comatose couple a glance, he left the motel room and walked relaxed around the back to his car. If they suspected David Tennant of rifling through their stuff they’d find no record of Lawless. Could he be blamed if those morons didn’t know Doctor Who?
Sliding in, he put the call through to the clubhouse to his president and chief.
His smirk was epic starting up his baby, giving it a little roar of her engine, she’d earned the pump of extra gas.
“Got him.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I’m in that dream again where I’m dating Colton Hawk…” - Gia
“There's something wrong with him!” Snapped the petite woman wringing her hands together, her whole-body language was curled in on herself. Today marked the thirteenth consecutive week for Beth and Skip Minksky marriage therapy. Sitting beside her on the soft cotton couch was Beth’s husband of eleven years looking resigned to his wife's outburst.
It wasn’t the first time this kind of explosion occurred within moments of their session beginning but after a break through when Gia explained what theory of mind was. In psychology terms it was to hear someone else’s point of view, not to just listen and wait for your turn to talk, it felt as though the pair were finally hearing each other.
“Try it the way we said, Beth, and not to lay blame.”
“Fine.” She huffed. “I feel,” she stressed the word, “that there's something wrong with him. Why does he need sex four or five times a week? It's too much, I'm not a machine.”
Skip dropped his blond head over his hands and sighed really long.
It was the same argument they'd been having for weeks now having moved on from their initial need for therapy being that Beth had her mother living with them and Skip considered it an intrusion to their marriage being that mom in law interfered in every decision within their house.
Listening to their back and forth discussion with the tools she'd aided them with in their first sessions she saw the husband's barriers go up at first, as was his default setting, but over time he'd learned Gia's office was a safe space for him to confess his opinions, even if they were against his wife. Slowly his shoulders lowered, and he looked her directly in the eye. “I love you Bethie. That love means I want to fuck you. Excuse my language, doc.” He said to Gia offhandedly and she smiled. She'd heard worse in her time as a therapist.
She'd seen much worse when she’d trained in drug counselling for eight months. Oh boy. That had been the most taxing time in her professional career. She'd hated every moment of that internship, knowing in the first month it wasn't the area of psychology she wanted to aim her career towards.
She wanted to help people in love.
The proof of her successes was pictures in a folder of her couples she’d helped over the years. Their relationships healed resulting in children sometimes.
It gave her the sense of accomplishment.
She might not have had that kind of partnership in her life yet, but she could claim a hand in mending broken hearts.
It was enough.
Until the object of her crush strode back into her life and all Gia wanted now was her own happily ever after.
If only she could marriage-counsel whammy Hawk so easily.
But he was a stubborn one.
“How does that make you feel, Beth, hearing Skip express his feelings regarding your sex life?” Rather than let the couple descend into arguments months old as was the usual way with frustrated people, she guided the conversation.
Gia saw a great amount of love in this couple. Somehow along their years together they'd lost their way to each other. Watching them unlock their hearts these months was both frustrating and rewarding. Sometimes it was one step forward and ten million back. Other days she just wanted to bang their heads together like that internet meme 'now kiss.'
“I feel like...” Beth looked directly at her husband and Gia watched his features change, downshifting into something softer, open and expectant. “I can't live up to what he wants.”
Skip swore. “That's bullshit, Bethie. I want you. Only you. I wish you wanted me instead of making me feel like a fucking predator for needing to hug you or god forbid to have sex with my woman.”
Wow. Breakthrough. She watched on. Her notebook across her lap.
“I do! God. I do. I just—I just hate to disappoint you.”
“Beth …” exhaled Skip and as one they reached for the other’s hand, clasping tightly it was a long few minutes before Gia broke their silence and rallied the conversation again.
By the end of their session she thought they’d taken a great step forward in reconnecting with each other. She showed them out and pencilled them in for next week. The Minksky’s were one of her couples who opted not to be transferred to Leo’s practice, but to have long distance video sessions with Gia instead.
It was well after six when she finally closed her laptop after transferring her notes to hard copy. Gia rubbed at her forehead, a tiny ache behind her eyes building as she placed her reading glasses back in their case and tossed into her purse.
She’d officially seen her last clients in Austin.
It was bittersweet.
On one hand she was so excited to be heading back to Colorado. She missed her big brother and his sweet baby-chops that was her darling and most favorite niece. But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little sad to be leaving behind the practice she’d grown the last few years. She’d be leaving it in good hands, but still, she had an ache in her chest.
And another large reason for her twitching excitement was the man waiting outside for her.
She knew this because he’d texted her “I’m here.” Forty minutes ago.
A man of few words was Hawk and each one thrilled her.
There he was.
Man spreading his gorgeous self on the gray seats along the far wall facing her door. One arm along the back of the chairs, the other dangling on his thigh. His blues lifted the moment she opened the door and the bloom of love in her belly was immense as their gazes clashed, though he didn’t smile, she felt his strong stare all the same licking over her. When Gia managed to drag her gaze from him she noticed her secretary’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.
She suppressed her giggle.
No wonder he was scowling if he’d had to deal with Caroline’s scrutiny all this time, and god forbid if she tried to talk to him.
“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” She offered as he stood to his towering height and once again swept the air out of her lungs with just how big he was. In his usual biker uniform, his shirt today was off gray with the collar of the white tee showing underneath. His jeans were well worn and softly cast to his long legs along with his biker boots, her biker was looking sexy as hell.
It was four days into Hawk's new 'look' and that first sight of him still made her heart thump out of her chest and her pelvis to clench tightly.
Seems he was having the same effect on Caroline who appeared half frozen in place behind her desk as she mouthed to Gia; Oh my god, Gia! Oh, my god, who’s the hottie? While Gia suppressed a grin, Hawk took her book laden satchel out of her hands, swinging it onto his shoulder, next he took her briefcase like he thought that was too heavy for her to carry.
“I could get used to you meeting me at work.” She smiled and wished he’d lean in and kiss her.
Since their talk he’d been … she’d class it as different around her. Not odd or distance just different. Attentive was a good way to describe Hawk. He took watching her seriously, they’d practically been glued at the hip the last few days and she wasn’t complaining one bit.
But as considerate as he’d been when she’d wanted transporting all over town to finish
last minute errands, he hadn’t made any kind of sexual move towards her and she was in a word going hornily-crazy. Not to mention he’d insisted on waiting outside her parent’s house last night even though she’d wanted him to come inside. He’d nodded to her mom at the door and stayed by his bike.
So, would a kiss be so out of the question? She understood his reasons for not taking their relationship … whatever they labelled it … to the next level, he was thinking of her and Gia, horny and desperate could still respect him for it, but she missed his mouth and fingers between her legs.
She leaned in and brushed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you for waiting.”
He grunted a response.
“Caroline, this is my good friend Hawk. Hawk, my right arm and best assistant who I’ll miss terribly unless I can convince her to move to Colorado.”
Hawk shifted his gaze and nodded, otherwise that was the best kind of greeting her PA would get. Gia bit back a grin, he really was a socially inept creature and she adored him just how he was.
Call her jealous, but she didn’t want to see him smiling at another woman or being charming. She liked that he paid attention only to her.
After she’d said her goodbyes to Caroline and let her go, a knock on the waiting room doorjamb had both her and Hawk turning.
A growl from Hawk’s throat first alerted Gia to danger, assuming it was one of the Russian gentlemen back again.
But no. It was only Leo.
Tall, dark muddy, messy hair, wearing his rectangle black specs today and his tailored suit jacket open at the waist with light gray pants and an open necked white shirt. Leo Montague was a well put together man, funny in a dry wit kind of a way. A native of New Hampshire he’d moved to Austin several years ago with a girlfriend who sadly didn’t remain as such for very long and he’d set up his practice in the same building as Gia.
They’d become colleagues who lunched several times a week and discussed difficult cases.
It was Leo who bought Gia’s practice, taking on 60% of her clientele. There were five other therapists in their building and Leo was going to be the principal psychiatrist.