Wicked Favor

by Sawyer Bennett

Whether we're protecting a rock star on tour, rescuing a kidnap victim, gathering intelligence, or doing something so top secret we could land in jail and the government would disavow us, the money is a big reason why I created the company rather than stay in the military for my kicks. The Jameson Group has over fifty special operatives around the world and another hundred security professionals. While the professional security services for the wealthy and elite provide the bread and butter from which we survive, it's the top-secret government contracts where we really earn the big bucks. I personally haven't netted less than three million a year in my pocket after making sure everyone else is paid very, very well and all expenses covered.

  While I haven't lived frugally, I've saved most of it, and I really don't have to work another day in my life if I don't want to. But I'm not one to sit around and just play golf all the time, so I'll always be in business one way or the other.

  "I've had the business appraised," I tell Kynan as we approach the green. "It came in around twenty-two million."

  "I definitely cannot afford that," Kynan says gruffly.

  "Relax," I tell him as I set my cart and pull out a club. "That's the value over your lifetime. But I want out now and you're the only one I trust, so I'm prepared to take seven million. Put down whatever you can and I'll finance the rest by you keeping me on the payroll as a consultant."

  Kynan's eyebrows shoot upward. "That's actually a little unfair to you. And why the rush?"

  I look back to the tee we just left, not seeing the next group there yet, so we have a few minutes to chat. Kynan walks to his ball, which also hit the green but is further from the hole than mine.

  "I want out sooner rather than later," I give him the answer to his question. "And to let me get out, I'm willing to accept less than the value. I figure six months is enough time to transition you out of field ops and into the office to run the damn thing."

  "What if I don't want out of field ops?" he asks.

  "Then do them," I say with a shrug. "It will be your business to run however you want."

  "You still didn't answer my question," he says with a smirk.

  I blink at him. I thought I had.

  So he reminds me. "But why now?"

  I give another shrug, trying to act casual. I really hadn't planned on moving this fast, but I want to free up my time. Work has kept me so busy over the years that I haven't had time for things like relationships, but that's going to change. Trista has changed me. Changed what I want in life. "I just want to cut back on work. Start enjoying life, you know. I've worked my ass off doing dangerous stuff and now I want to take it easy. Is that so hard to understand?"

  "Not in general," Kynan says with another smirk. "But if you want to take it easy with a particular person, then I'm very intrigued that Mr. Screw A Different Pussy Each Night is going to give that up."

  "I already gave it up," I grumble, taking another look at the last tee. It's still empty so we aren't in a rush finish this hole.

  "For thirty days was the deal I seem to remember," Kynan says slyly. "I'm guessing you're extending that time."

  "Fine, you nosy fuck," I snarl at him. "Yes... I'm seeing Trista and I want to keep seeing her. I don't want anyone else, and I want more time to spend with her. Are you happy?"

  "Deliriously so," Kynan says dryly as he lines up to make his putt. I keep my mouth shut, giving him quiet, but I grind my teeth because I know I'm going to take a ton of ribbing from him over this.

  To my surprise, from a good twenty feet away, Kynan sinks his putt easily. Content to finish this out, Kynan doesn't say a word but waits for me to go. I'm only about three feet from the hole and can do this with my eyes closed.

  I line up, take a few short putting swings, and then step forward. I look from hole to ball and back, then give it a tiny tap. The ball veers slightly to the right, catching the rim of the cup. I watch as it shoots around and then out again.

  "Fuck," I growl, and Kynan snickers. He's totally thrown me off my game.

  My ball is only about three inches from the hole so I do nothing but reach down and pick it up. It's a "gimme".

  It's not until we put our clubs in our bags and start walking along the path to the next tee when Kynan starts in on me. "So... this is real with Trista, huh?"

  "Seems so," I say casually, although what I'm doing feels anything but casual.

  "Isn't she still under your contract period?" he quizzes.

  "Four days left, but we're past that shit," I tell him. "I'll give her the money now if she wants it to pay off that loan shark. And by the way, I've offered her a full-time job at The Jameson Group so part of the buyout will demand you keep her on board."

  "Seriously, Jerico," Kynan drawls. "Do you even know if she has the job skills for this?"

  "She'd make the perfect receptionist," I tell him as we reach the tee. "She's got plenty of experience."

  "But you already have a receptionist," Kynan points out.

  I grimace at the reminder. "Yeah... but I'm going to fire her. She's always trying to get in everyone's pants."

  "You're fucking right she does," Kynan says, and then points out for his benefit alone, "and she's gotten into mine several times."

  And mine... but only once, and I don't do repeats except in select situations with someone like Helena with her husband involved. But still, I don't really care for her and her work is mediocre. Since I fucked her one time over my desk, she seems to think it gave her the right to be perpetually late to work.

  When Kynan realizes I'm not going to give in on this, he switches tactics, and I know this is really what he's been gunning for. "I can assume then that you've given up on that ludicrous idea to show those photos and tapes to Jayce, right?"

  "Yeah," I tell him, realizing how much weight came off my shoulders when I made that decision earlier this week. "Tossed it in my shred bin."

  "I'm glad," Kynan says softly. "I know you wanted to strike out at Jayce, but that wasn't the way, man."

  I finally turn to lock eyes with him. "I didn't know that at first. Trista was nothing to me and I didn't really care. But that's changed now."

  "Got yourself a winner there, I think," Kynan says.

  I think of Trista and her great qualities. Her sass and stubbornness, her quick wit and intelligence, but most of all, her humanity. The things she's done for her niece blow me away, and she'll make an amazing mother one day.

  God, that fucking appeals to me. I'd all but given up on having children after what Michelle and Jayce did, and I know that's thinking way too far into the future with Trista, but I can see it. I believe we could have something that strong. I think we already do.

  "Yeah, I got a winner," I agree.

  His hand comes down on my shoulder, and he gives a squeeze. "I'm glad you're letting that shit go. Not just the revenge on Jayce, but on letting the betrayal go so you can open yourself up again. I'm glad you're willing to trust again."

  And that's really what it boils down to. It's been almost a month since I've met Trista, but I know without a doubt I can trust her. She is just genuinely a good human being. I'm lucky to have found her.

  The funny thing is... I'm glad I didn't open myself up before because I think I was waiting for Trista to come along. After Michelle cheated on me and then aborted our baby, I quite unfairly set her as the standard by which I measured other women, when really... Trista is the standard. She's what all women should aspire to be, and what all men should hope to have one day.

  I get that now.

  And I'm ready.

  CHAPTER 26

  Trista

  I lean back in my chair, shaking my head as I look at Jerico. "I still can't believe you can cook like that."

  He smiles and takes a sip of his wine.

  And by that, I mean he made beef wellington with steamed asparagus and a homemade hollandaise sauce, all finished with a creme brulee that was the best I've ever tasted.

  "Seriously, how did you learn to cook like that?" I ask, still in
amazement.

  Jerico leans toward the table, crossing his forearms on top of it. With a little shrug, he says, "I don't know. I guess you can say it's how I exercise my creative side."

  "Well, you should feel free to exercise it at any time with me," I tell him with a smile and then a brief glance at my watch. "And I've got to get going."

  Jerico stands up from the table with me, and I make a motion to grab my plate to take it to the kitchen. I was almost giddy when he'd sent me a text today asking if I'd come early and have dinner with him in his apartment. It was what I would consider our first real date, and to find he actually made dinner for me left me feeling warm and gooey. Things with Jerico have changed quickly and drastically, and yet tonight... sitting at his table and having enjoyable conversation as we ate seemed perfectly natural as well.

  But I do still have a job to do for at least the next three days, and while Jerico told me he'd relieve me of that obligation, I insisted on fulfilling it. I always pay my debts.

  He's amused by this, of course, but he's playing along.

  "Leave the plates," he says and when I don't immediately drop it, he rounds the table to take it from my hand. "I'll clean up."

  "But you cooked," I point out.

  Jerico sets the plate on the table and his arms go around my waist to pull me into him. I wobble for a moment on the stiletto heels I'm wearing along with my standard hostess uniform of a sexy black dress. I'm steadied though when my hands come to his shoulders as I look up at him. His smile is mischievous... his eyes sparkling.

  "You could always let me come and play with you in one of the rooms tonight," he says in a husky voice. "I'm thinking The Orgy Room. Maybe I'll even open you up and invite some others to eat your pussy."

  My sex clenches so tight I almost whimper, even as I'm stunned by his suggestions. Having other people participate, and having Kynan fuck me... that was all well and good when it was just casual sex. Even though the idea of him opening me up for others to feast on is clearly turning me way the fuck on, I'm confused by it as well.

  "You'd let other people be with me now?" I ask him curiously.

  He gets my meaning right away, his eyes softening. "If you wanted it and were up for it, yes... as long as I was there, I'd do anything to give you pleasure."

  "But... but... I don't think I could reciprocate that," I tell him softly. "I couldn't let another woman touch you."

  Jerico's eyes get even softer. "You'd be jealous."

  "Absolutely," I say without hesitation. "Wouldn't you? If other men touched me?"

  "Not as long as I knew I was the one you came home to at night," he says.

  "That doesn't make sense to me," I say in frustration as I pull away from him. "If you want to be only with me, then you should be jealous of other men."

  "Trista... baby," he cajoles as he pulls me back to him. "I own a sex club. Swinging here is a way of life, and I really don't think twice about it anymore. This is new to you though, so I'm sure it's all confusing. So why don't we just agree that for the time being, it will be just the two of us, okay? And if you feel more comfortable down the line, we can talk about it."

  "You make it sound so simple," I grumble as I look away.

  His hand comes to my face and guides it so I have to look directly in his eyes. "While I might not get jealous of someone else touching you, or giving you pleasure... I'd be jealous as fuck and out of my mind if you ever looked at another man the way you look at me when I'm fucking you. That's for me and me alone."

  And, oh wow... that was hot as hell and so damn sweet my teeth hurt. I immediately relax into his embrace, because he just validated his feelings for me. And he's right... this is a lot for me to get used to. I have to remember that sharing bodies in this environment does not mean sharing hearts. That's exactly what Jerico just said to me, I think.

  Going to tiptoe, I give him a brief, soft kiss. Smiling at him, I say, "Okay. We'll work through this, but I'm going to head out and get down to the hostess podium. Don't want anyone thinking I'm up here doing hanky-panky with the boss."

  Jerico laughs... rich, deep, and with gusto. He releases me and picks up our plates. "Go on... get to work, woman."

  "What are you going to do?" I think to ask him as I grab my purse from the kitchen island.

  He looks up and pins me with a brilliant smile. "I actually think I'm going to read a book and relax until you get off work. I'll be waiting for you, and I plan to fuck your brains out when you walk through that door."

  "Mmm," I say with a wink as I turn toward his apartment door. "I like it."

  "Oh, wait," Jerico says and I turn back to him. "Will you do me a favor? Go through my office and in my top right drawer, I have a folder Kynan's going to swing by and pick up. It's my formal offer to sell Jameson Group to him."

  "So you're moving forward with it?" I ask as I follow him into the kitchen where the walk-through door to his office is located.

  Jerico sets the plates in the sink and rolls up his shirt sleeves before he starts cleaning. "By the end of the year, if he agrees. We'll need that time to transition him into the boss's chair."

  "You sound completely peaceful with this decision," I say, and my heart is happy for him.

  "I am," he tells me, those green eyes filled with satisfaction of a good life.

  "I'm glad," I say and then blow him a kiss. "See you later tonight."

  "Bye," he murmurs as I push through the door to his office. It's dim with only a small desk lamp turned on and some accent lights in his built-ins so I turn on the overhead lights by flipping the switch at the door.

  Walking to his massive carved desk, I inhale deeply and realize it smells like Jerico in here. I didn't realize Jerico had a smell until now, but it's divine and I breathe in again.

  When I reach his desk, I open the drawer on the left but see nothing but pens, paperclips, and some chewing gum in there.

  He said left drawer, right?

  Maybe not.

  I sit down in his massive leather chair and propel it to the right, reaching out for the right-hand drawer. Laying on top is a navy-blue folder with "The Jameson Group" stamped in gold foil, and I know this is what I need to bring to the front podium for Kynan to pick up. I start to push the chair back so I can stand up, but something catches my eye under his desk.

  I see a plastic bin, not even half full of documents thrown in, but it's the brown envelope on top that made me pause.

  Because I saw the word "Jayce" and that's not an overly common name.

  I bend over and grab the edge of the bin, pulling it out so I can see a little bit better once it's out of the shadow of the desk.

  And there, laying right on top, is a thick manila envelope addressed to Jayce Barnes with his address as well as The Wicked Horse's return address on it. There's no postage though, but it's clear at some point, this was going to be mailed.

  Whatever "this" is, I take very keen note that my gut twists as if something doesn't seem right. Jerico never talks about Jayce, so I gathered they weren't close friends anymore. I don't talk about him either because he's a prick. So for the life of me, I can't figure out why Jerico would be mailing anything to him.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull the silver prongs up and peel the flap back. Without any hesitation, I reach in and pull out what I immediately recognize as photos and a few DVDs. But then my eyes hone in on the first photograph, and my stomach drops so quickly I get nauseated.

  On the top, there's a black-and-white photograph of me in The Silo.

  Sucking Jerico's dick while Kynan fucks me from behind.

  The next one is of Jerico fucking me on the deck with just my skirt hiked up.

  The photo behind it is of me sucking Jerico's dick in his office. While he sat in this chair.

  I fly up out of the chair, and it rolls back so hard it hits the wall. Bile surges up into my mouth, and I swallow it back down as I flip through the stack of photos. They're all Jerico and me having sex in the club. None in his
apartment, but of the handful of times we had sex in the club, there are several photos of each event.

  Because I almost can't believe it, I flip the manila envelope back over and just to make sure... yes, it's addressed to Jayce.

  But why in the fuck would Jerico ever be sending this to Jayce?

  Tears well up in my eyes as I realize there's something nefarious going on between Jerico and my brother, and I've apparently been a pawn in it all. I pick up a DVD, but I don't know what to do with it. I have to assume it's either more photos or Jesus--my stomach clenches--video of me having sex in the club.

  I stand there... just blankly staring now at the top photograph, feeling my entire body start to turn inward from the humiliation. I wasn't humiliated when I did those things. I had loved doing them, because I was in a safe environment.

  And all along... I was never safe at all.

  "Trista." I hear Jerico's voice and look up to see him walking toward me. His eyes flick down to the stack of photos and the envelope in my hand, and then back up to me. They're filled with wariness and unease.

  "You son of a bitch," I whisper, my throat too constricted with a million different emotions to get out much more than that.

  "It's not what it seems," he says hastily as he puts his hands out in a motion to calm me down. He's looking at me like I'm a wild animal getting ready to bolt.

  My voice is still low, barely audible but now it quakes with fury. "It looks like you were going to mail sex photos to my brother."

  "I was, but I changed my mind," Jerico says, still holding his hands out. "If you'll just let me explain--"

  "I don't want to hear a fucking thing you've got to say," I yell at him and suddenly I've found my voice. "There is nothing you could say that would justify this."

  "I know," he yells back at me, then in a softer voice as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, he says, "I know. But at least give me the chance."

  "You don't deserve it," I say as I spin from the desk and run to the office door, clutching the stack of vile photos in my arms.

  "I hate your brother," Jerico calls after me, and I falter. Then I come to a stop when he says, "So much that I thought this would be a way to hurt him. It was for revenge. That's not a justification, it's just the reason I was going to do it. It had nothing to do with you, and I never wanted you to get hurt. But I changed my mind and couldn't go through with it. Hurting Jayce wasn't worth hurting you."