the lube from behind.
He then went into his closet and found some lounge gear, royal-blue pants and matching shirt in a soft, stretchy material that was warm, but breathable.
It was the best money could buy. His loungewear. His washcloth. His apartment with the view of the Front Range. And everything in it.
He’d let loose his ambition, his greed, and he’d been extremely successful.
It had been exhilarating.
Now he would have to scale back to keep it, however Benito liked to think of it as a sort of semi-retirement.
The result would be no more whining pimps and twitchy dealers and unnecessary attorney fees and visits to Mamá Nana.
And he was fine with that too.
Very much so.
He pulled on his loungewear, his mind on the best, he started thinking about Tallulah.
He had not given up thoughts of her.
She would not be an emotional tangle.
Unafraid of him, she would be his equal. He would watch her work, give her the resources to grow their brand and it’d be his next great success.
And when, or if, she ceased being useful, he’d scrape her off.
In the meantime, they’d had that discussion about m/m for his films.
He’d been averse.
She’d said it was “hot.”
He’d give her free rein on that to see what she’d come up with.
And he decided, between the two of them, if that was something she liked, he’d order some for her, those to her liking, and let her watch.
And perhaps play with her while she did.
Finding this prospect intriguing, he moved back through the bathroom into his bedroom and stopped dead.
He did this because an enormous man with longish, light-brown hair was throwing himself on his bed.
“Could get used to digs like this,” he stated in a voice Benito liked better than either of the other two.
“Yeah. I hear that.”
Benito’s eyes moved to the man who was joining the large man on the bed, his swarthy features, thick beard and gravelly voice, Benito liked even better.
He would cancel his Monday plans with the others.
And order up these two.
And he wouldn’t even ask for them to change out of their jeans and tees so they could arrive as he required.
They clearly were rough trade and that would be an interesting change.
They also obviously had the words he’d given to the agency to get by his men at the door.
So this was another mistake Benito could forgive.
“The agency has made an error,” he said, gaining both their attention. “I’ve already been serviced.”
“Oh, we know,” the large one said, his bright blue eyes on Benito, and he tipped his head across the room.
Benito looked that way and froze to the spot.
He did not fully take in the tall, slender woman with short, brown hair, form-fitting black leather pants, a silk shell under an army-green blazer with deep, feminine lapels, a delicate platinum choker around her neck and high-heeled, strappy, platinum sandals who was leaning insouciantly against the doorjamb of his room (though obviously he did take in her clothes).
His television was on.
And on it was a video of him at the beginning of the proceedings with the men who left not fifteen minutes go.
He was on his back, his cock being sucked, his knees forced high and wide, while the tall one straddled his head, fucking his face.
The angle was perfect, to the side, you could see everything.
He did not search the room for the camera.
Because he felt the cold invade.
And he relished it.
“Might have to give you a rest, bro, watchin’ that,” one of the men on the bed said, revulsion unhidden in his tone.
“I don’t know, the guy at his mouth has got talent,” the gravel came. The dark one.
He looked to the bed only to see the big one had his gun out of his nightstand.
He was tossing the clip to the bed. He then palmed the bullet he released from the chamber and shoved the gun into the back of his jeans.
All this he did smiling irreverently at Benito.
That chill dug deep.
“Hey there,” a female voice sounded.
He cut his eyes to the woman.
She lifted up his remote.
“Should we fast forward to the good parts?” she asked.
“Dude, you gotta check the teeth,” the big man on the bed advised, and Benito forced his gaze back to him. “Felt for that fucker, you nearly ripped his dick off when you came.”
They’d watched.
“FYI, my man, some dude named Knight bought the Dusk Agency. Boys who just drilled you?” the dark one said. “They’re his.”
He had not been made aware of this.
This did not make Benito happy.
Yes,