Kyle moaned at the touch, pushing his hips into Jamie’s firm grip. When Jamie pulled his hand away, Kyle would have whined, except those talented fingers slipped between his lips and into his mouth. Kyle tended to Jamie’s hand with the same focus he’d tended to Jamie’s cock. Licking and sucking each finger and lapping at his palm, he got Jamie’s hand wet enough that when he wrapped it around Kyle’s cock again, the friction of dry skin was an afterthought.
He let out a strangled cry as Jamie set a steady rhythm of jerking him off, fingers twisting around the head of his cock to tease at the sensitive skin there. His thumb rubbed over the head, spreading pre-cum over delicate skin and making Kyle’s entire body shake. Kyle dug his knees into the bed, looking for any leverage he could get as Jamie jacked him off with a skill that had him begging within minutes.
“Please, sir,” Kyle gasped out, shoulders curving toward the other man, head tipped downward so he could watch Jamie work at getting him off. “Please.”
“Look at me,” Jamie murmured, voice low and commanding, and there was no chance of Kyle ever disobeying when he sounded like that.
Kyle lifted his head, meeting Jamie’s searing gaze as his body moved to Jamie’s rhythm, chasing the rising heat in his body.
“You’re everything I want, no matter what people will say, do you understand?”
Kyle didn’t want to believe the words, because he knew where he had started, where he came from, and it was nothing like the throwaway richness of this house and the glittering world Jamie was born into.
“I want you, and that’s the truth under everything we’re gonna do. Because I’m not letting you go, Kyle.”
The knot of anger from earlier he hadn’t quite let go of unfurled in his chest, leaving him feeling lighter than he thought he had the right to be as everything became too much.
“Say it, Kyle. I want to hear you say it.”
“Yours,” Kyle moaned, his voice breaking as he came. “I’m yours.”
His entire body shook and shook through his orgasm, mouth falling open on a sob as Jamie stroked him through it, milking every last drop of cum out of his cock until nothing was left.
They stayed like that for several minutes, just breathing, their pants undone and clothes a mess. Kyle was sitting sprawled in Jamie’s lap on the edge of the bed as they held each other, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. Eventually, Jamie gently pried one of Kyle’s hands off his shoulders and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the arch of Kyle’s knuckles.
“You and me,” Jamie said into the quiet between them.
Kyle brushed his mouth over Jamie’s, lips barely moving. “Okay.”
6
Recon By Fire
“So what, exactly, is your plan?” Liam asked as he twisted around in the front passenger seat of the SUV to look at Jamie. “And your suit bloody well screams rich wanker. Excellent choice. You should give me the name of your tailor.”
“He’s in New York,” Jamie said. “And the plan is we get Jansen to bite.”
Jamie wasn’t looking at Liam but out the side window, watching the streets blur by. The London megacity was different from most others in the world, and its strict building codes hadn’t lessened over the centuries. Rather than building up, London had merely spread out.
Over the years, the border of Greater London had crept outward, swallowing surrounding towns in a sprawl of urban life twice its original size, linked by new stretches of the Tube and faster maglev trains of the National Rail. The Thames had been walled off generations ago. The Thames Barrier, and the more distant seawalls and canals along the tidal zone, were rebuilt larger and stronger to handle the surge of rising sea levels. London’s many bridges still stood, a testament to British engineering in the face of climate change. Council estate towers were scattered throughout the megacity in drab clusters, the only buildings of substantial height outside of Central London’s skyscrapers.
The wealthy flocked to London as a money sink against greedy native governments, buying luxury properties and vehicles as a financial foothold in England. When they weren’t doing business, they were out to have a good time, but the local pub was never going to be good enough. London’s nightlife was rivaled by few others. It didn’t surprise Jamie that Jansen had chosen this megacity as his hunting ground.
Swanky VIP nightclubs and high-end cocktail bars lived and died on trends. Vesuvius was Jansen’s third nightclub in as many years, in as many countries. That it was the most popular so far was due to word of mouth and the power the man exerted over those he’d blackmailed into a life of crime.
“You’re as tight-lipped as ever,” Liam said when it became obvious Jamie wasn’t going to elaborate.
Jamie smiled thinly. “Trust me. We’ll get the job done.”
Preparing for the job had started hours ago with all of them getting ready for a night out on the town. Donovan and Annabelle were their drivers for the night, both of them wearing dark business suits to blend into the background. They’d stay with the vehicles after dropping the rest of them off and remain on standby until they were needed. Madison and Trevor were coming into the club as their bodyguards and were dressed in similar suits as the other two, the cut just a little classier to more easily blend into the environment.
Jamie wore a dark gray suit that wasn’t flashy in the least, but its understated elegance drew the eye anyway. He’d put on a platinum Rolex that reflected the light every time it peeked out of his suit cuff, the watch more a status symbol than anything else. Liam was dressed the same way, the tight cut of his suit jacket making it impossible to hide a gun. Not that he needed one when, as an electrokinetic, he could toss bolts of electricity from his hands with deadly accuracy. Still, they were supposed to act like they were human on this mission, and the lack of a gun was making them all a little twitchy.
Especially Kyle.
Jamie glanced at where the younger man sat beside him, staring out the other window with a bored expression on his face. Unlike himself and Liam, Kyle wasn’t wearing a suit. Jamie had picked out the clothes he wore because a man of Jamie’s status had particular tastes and liked to show them off. In this instance, that meant showing Kyle off.
Skinny black jeans from a designer label were tucked into a pair of leather boots with far too many straps and buckles wrapped around them to be functional. The dark blue button-down shirt he wore was untucked and wrinkled, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone. The scorched ends of his hair had finally been trimmed before it was styled in a way that gave the impression he’d rolled out of bed.
Jamie was reminded, rather abruptly, of the first night they’d met. The way Kyle had looked on display on that bar stool, a need in his eyes that still to this day went straight to Jamie’s cock.
“Almost there, boss,” Donovan said.
Jamie wrenched his gaze away from Kyle’s face, reorienting himself. Liam gave him a long look from the front seat before raising a single eyebrow without saying a word. Jamie did the only thing he could, which was ignore the other man in favor of the job at hand. Donovan was right. They were almost to the club.
Vesuvius laid claim to a square building situated in the middle of what passed for a block in Camden. From the outside, it was all wall, no windows, just a single door in the center manned by several bouncers whose job it was to make sure only those on the list made it inside the vaunted doors of London’s current hottest nightclub.
Their SUV and the one Annabelle drove behind them rolled to a stop at the curb right in front of the door. Donovan stayed put while Liam and Jamie opened their doors. Jamie could feel dozens of eyes on them as he got out. He turned his back on the audience and the paparazzi snapping pictures while their drone cameras hovered in the air, recording their arrival. After years of fighting in the shadows and hiding behind code names, the attention was grating. If it irritated him, Jamie knew it had to be worse for Kyle and Alexei. Those two came out of Strike Force. Special Operations For
ces didn’t fuck around when it came to keeping the identities of their operatives a secret. Yet here they all were, hiding in plain sight.
He only hoped it was worth it.
Alexei, wearing a less expensive suit without a tie because apparently he hated them, helped Katie out of their SUV. Katie had donned a slinky, sparkly, gold designer cocktail dress that looked painted on and hit at mid-thigh with a cleavage-baring neckline. She moved on her five-inch high heels like a ballet dancer, the clutch she carried for her tablet, makeup, and Beretta .380 ACP in its specialized case to hide it from scans dotted with crystals. Alexei guided her forward as Sean slipped out of the SUV behind them, letting Madison and Trevor close the doors.
Kyle climbed out of the SUV and stood next to him on the sidewalk. Jamie automatically wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him in close. “Ready?” he asked in a low voice.
“Show me what you got,” Kyle replied with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.
Jamie put a smile on his face, one as sharp as glass that cut both ways, but he knew what he looked like when he smiled like this.
He used to always smile like this.
Jamie ignored the first bouncer who tried to get in their way, moving past the man with a deft sidestep that put both him and Kyle out of reach. The second bouncer wasn’t going to be deterred though, and cut them off, one hand reaching for Kyle since he was the closer of the two.
Jamie pulled up short and said, in a deceptively mild voice, “If you touch him, I will break your fucking hand.”
The bouncer froze, his hand hovering over Kyle’s shoulder for a second longer before he snatched it back. Jamie calmly grabbed Kyle by the elbow and manhandled the shorter man in a protective manner to his other side.
“Is there a problem?” Jamie asked icily.
“There is a list and there is a line, mate,” the bouncer said as he crossed his arms over his burly chest, the data rings on one hand glinting in the light. “If you’re not on the list, you get in the line, or you go home.”
Jamie cocked his head to the side. “Do you know who I am?”
“I don’t fucking care if you’re the queen herself, you’re not getting in unless you’re on the list.”
“Well then, if that’s the case,” Liam said as he sidled up to them, knocking a friendly fist against Jamie’s shoulder that didn’t make him move an inch. “I am related to the queen. So you might want to let us through. Jamie here has been stuck in meetings all day and I promised him a piss up at the best place I knew if he didn’t murder anyone out of sheer bloody boredom.”
“If you’re not on the list—” the bouncer snapped.
“Jamie Callahan is always on the list,” Jamie cut through coldly. “Now get out of my fucking way.”
I haven’t missed the old you, Katie said into his mind, her telepathic voice a deep echo in between his ears. I’m moving the idiots before you walk all over them.
The bouncers never knew Katie entered their minds and altered their thoughts just enough to shift their actions from antagonistic to confused. Liam had promised the paperwork authorizing any mental actions she would take on British soil to ensure the safety of the British people as a whole would be legal and would come through, and it had. She was free to use her telepathy how she saw fit, so long as it helped the mission.
The men stepped back, sharing a quick, confused look. Jamie could hear several people closest to the front of the line whispering about what was going on, passing the story along for those in the back. He heard his name repeated a few times with the knowing tones of people who recognized who he was even if the bouncers didn’t.
Jamie grabbed Kyle’s hand and strode forward while Liam shouted out “Sorry, lovelies, I’m going stag tonight! Private party and all.”
Then they were all inside a black metal room where a computerized voice asked that they “Please remain still for the security scan.”
The door behind them slid shut and the lights flashed once. The scan lasted only a few seconds before the wall in front of them slid open, reveling the club within, a pounding pulse beat of bass-driven music pouring over them.
Vesuvius was three levels of wealthy indulgence, with a vast open center dominated by a dance floor whose music was overseen by an AI instead of a celebrity DJ. Two bars on opposite sides lined the wall and handled drinks for those who didn’t have the clout to make it to the VIP sections up on the second and third levels. Those areas overlooked the dance floor in balconies that jutted outward, with fashionably dressed men and women looking down on those who didn’t make the cut. The lighting in the club was low, but not dark, making it easier for their eyes to adjust.
Trevor quickly put himself between Jamie and the woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere from the crowd. The outfit she wore could barely be called a dress, the design having taken the cutout motif popular right now to the extreme. Her smile was professional though, even if her clothes were not.
“Mr. Callahan, it’s truly an honor to have you grace our establishment,” she said a little loudly to be heard over the music, one hand clenched into a fist, the data rings she wore proof she was working rather than partying. “We have a table ready for you and your guests.”
“Your security needs to be educated on their betters. If this is the kind of reception you hand out, I’ll find somewhere else to be,” Jamie said in a clipped, displeased tone.
The woman practically fell over herself to apologize. “I am truly sorry for the mistake, Mr. Callahan. Security out front will be dealt with, I assure you. Please, let us make it up to you. Your drinks will be on the house tonight, for as long as you stay.”
Liam pushed past Jamie with a smile. “That’s brilliant. We love it when the house pays the bill. Why don’t you show us up, yeah?”
The woman nodded, gesturing for them to follow her through the outskirts of the crowd. Trevor took point, with Madison claiming rearguard, the two of them keeping a sharp eye on the crowd to make sure no one tried to approach the group.
The security guards monitoring the stairs were far more accommodating this time around, making sure the cluster of people hoping to be allowed through stayed out of the way as Jamie’s group made their way up. The second level wasn’t as crowded as the first, which meant their presence was noticed by far more people as they were led to their private table. Jamie ignored them in favor of steering Kyle over to the couches that made up a comfortable alcove situated against the wall. Bottles of expensive alcohol were neatly clustered in the middle of the low table, glasses close at hand for a straight pour if one didn’t want a beer. For mixed drinks, roving bartenders tended to the tables when summoned while scantily clad women made sure empty bottles were replaced with full ones.
Bottle service like this was pricey, the water tax a heavy hit on any establishment, but especially places that served alcohol. The thin margin between going under and breaking above even could be found in the accounts of the wealthy, so long as they were willing to pay for it. Jamie’s group didn’t need to worry about that tonight.
They settled in, with Madison and Trevor taking up discreet positions beyond the alcove to keep watch while the rest of them pretended they were having a good time. Almost immediately a bartender approached, offering his services, to which Liam declined after taking one look at Jamie’s annoyed expression.
Alexei reached for the vodka bottle with one hand, flipping over six shot glasses with the other. “You make good asshole, Jamie.”
“He’s had practice,” Katie said mildly.
Jamie purposefully ignored her, settling his hand high up on Kyle’s thigh as he turned to look at Liam. “How long do you think it’ll take for word to get around that we’re here?”
Liam took the shot glass Alexei offered him with a shrug. “You keep being a proper wanker, probably not long. I give it an hour, maybe less.”
“You SAS as bet prone as the Marines?” Kyle asked, taking two shot glasses and handing one to Jamie.
“I’
d wager we’re worse.”
“Forty minutes. A hundred dollars.”
“This is Jamie we’re talking about. Thirty minutes, tops, and two hundred pounds.”
Katie pointedly raised her shot glass. “We’re here to drink, boys. To finally getting out and getting our business off the ground.”
“Davayte vyp’yem za uspekh nashego dela,” Alexei said, toasting the table before knocking back his vodka.
Jamie drank his down easily, letting Sean pour them all another round this time. None of them really needed to worry about getting drunk. As metahumans, their metabolisms ran a lot faster than humans. Jamie could probably work his way through a bottle or two on the table by himself and maybe get a buzz, if he was lucky.
Word traveled fast when real money walked through the doors of the club. Trevor and Madison stopped a dozen people from trying to reach the group, hoping to introduce themselves, all of whom were denied the privilege. Jamie paid them zero attention, intent on catching up with Liam as much as he could before the real work began.
“That didn’t take long,” Katie said under her breath barely twenty minutes later, eyeing the sleekly dressed woman talking intently with Trevor and Madison.
Jamie ignored them until Madison came forward, getting within speaking range. “Zara is Mr. Jansen’s assistant. He’s extending a personal invitation for you and your friends to join him upstairs.”
Jamie kept his eyes on Zara as he said, loud enough for her to hear, “Liam, do I care who this Jansen guy is?”
“Pretty sure he owns the club,” Liam said, pretending to be more interested in his beer than the conversation.
“How nice. He owns a club. One that doesn’t pay particularly close attention to the clientele they need to keep it open, so I can’t see how he’ll stay in business much longer.”
Even from where he sat, Jamie could see the annoyed expression forming on Zara’s face.
“If he owns the place, then he’s a businessman,” Katie said, setting down her glass and snapping her fingers at Alexei. “Let’s say hello.”
In the Ruins (Metahuman Files Book 2) Page 12