CHAPTER 5
“Buck? What the fuck happened to you? Who did this? Are you okay?” Harry pulled me through the door to his penthouse and into his arms. He held me tight, then pulled me back to examine my face, the cut on my cheek, my swollen nose. “Do you need a doctor? Who the fuck did this to you? Please don’t tell me it’s because of my mother’s case?”
I had decided on the way to his place not to worry him about the investigation. “Nah, this was just some drunk bozos in an alley. You should have seen what I did to them.”
Between my decision to conceal the recent development with Bugsy Brown, and now this, it appeared I was the one with all the secrets.
“Jesus, they could have killed you. Did you go to the police?”
“God, no. You and me both know the cops in this town ain’t got a clue. I tell ya, I’m fine. Just a little sore is all.”
“Well, I’ve got just the cure for that.”
At the well-stocked drinks cart in his lavish living room, Harry poured both me and him a long generous gin and tonic, the booze splashing over the ice as he filled our glasses almost to the top.
I sat myself down on the couch and he slid beside me, handing me my drink and setting his on the coffee table while he had a closer look at my face. “You know you got a black eye coming up?”
“I do? I ain’t looked in a mirror yet.”
“You might not want to.”
“Hey, you sayin’ I ain’t pretty?” I joked.
Tenderly he took my chin in his fingers and placed a kiss on my lips that was softer than silk. “You’re pretty, all right. And you’re mine. Which means it’s my job to take care of you.”
Getting up from the couch he made his way over to the kitchen, opened the icebox and returned with the biggest, juiciest steak I’d ever seen, gleaming on a plate. “Put your head back.” Gently he laid that big old slab of meat over my eye, the cool, soothing ribeye melting to the contours of my face.
“Aahhh,” I sighed. “That feels good.”
“It does? It was supposed to be dinner, but lucky for you it’s not the only meat I planned on feeding you tonight.”
I pulled the steak away and eyed the mischievous look on his face. “It’s not?”
He took my drink off me, put the steak back on the plate, and set them both down on the coffee table in front of us, then guided my hand straight to the bulge in his crotch.
I didn’t need an instruction manual on what to do next.
Sliding off the couch, I quickly positioned myself on my knees between his spread legs.
Not taking my eyes off his swollen, pulsing crotch, I unbuttoned his trousers. He raised his hips off the couch for a moment, long enough for me to slide down his trousers and boxer shorts and unleash his cock, stiff and bobbing and beckoning to me.
I took the base of it in one fist, squeezing a gasp out of him before opening my mouth and taking in the slit-shiny crown.
The taste of him, sweet and salty, instantly relieved the pain in my jaw, my eye, my goddamn everywhere.
I slid his cock all the way to the back of my throat, slicking the shaft with my saliva, before pulling it out, sucking on the head, and ramming it down my throat again.
I blew him without restraint, without grace or delicacy, but rather with a passion so untamed and ravenous that his groans became ache-filled, his gasps desperate. He could have begged me to stop, but he didn’t. Why? Because he fucking loved it. He loved my wild and reckless lovemaking. He loved every chance he got to let go of Holden Hart—the suave, sophisticated son of a tycoon—and become Harry, who yearned to have me devour his cock and pound his ass and leave him wrecked and battered by my love.
“Ah, ah, ah!” he cried out as I quickened my pace, intensified my sucking. “Buck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—”
And just like that, the hot salve of his slick hard dick gushed into my mouth and slid down my throat.
I gulped hard, sucking his seed down, siphoning the strength out of him as he gasped and rasped in ecstasy.
Before he had a chance to catch his breath, I slid his still cum-oozing cock from my lips, took his hips forcefully in my hands, and turned him over on the couch so that his face landed in the cushions and his ass was all mine.
I unbuttoned my trousers, and my own cock, hungry for Harry, sprang upward, veins throbbing and precum practically spurting from my slit.
I drenched a couple of my fingers, sucking on them like I’d just sucked on Harry’s dick, then slid them into his ass, massaging his hole roughly and getting even harder at the sound of his groans.
When he was good and wet, I nuzzled the head of my cock between his ass cheeks.
I felt his muscles relax and pull me inside, all the way, till my hips met his ass. For a second he went silent, clutching his breath, then as he exhaled I pulled out before pushing inside him again… ag ain… again.
My thrusts quickened.
My heart hammered against the wall of my chest as my cock hammered his ass.
Before I knew it, I had his blond hair in my fist. I was pulling his head back, forcing him to arch his back as I pumped his ass in a frenzy of passion until soon I cried out, “Ah fuck! Fuck!”
My cum erupted inside him, the flood of heat shooting into his body.
I cried out again. “Fuck!” And he groaned with bliss and exhaustion.
Panting, I slowed my thrusts.
I let his sweaty blond hair slip from my fingers.
And huffing with spent pleasure, I lowered my body against him, my chest hot and heaving against his back.
My voice breathy, I whispered next to his ear, “I love you, Harry.”
He angled his head toward me and I kissed his neck. “I love you too, Buck,” he said. “I love you too.”
Later that night as we lay in his bed, my arms wrapped tightly around him, I felt Harry take a nervous breath as though he was unsure whether or not to say what he was about to say. Eventually he uttered, “Buck, did you read the papers today?”
I thought about the newspaper that Skip handed me earlier, the one I hadn’t read. I’d gone to the kid for a different kinda scoop, not the ink on some news sheet. “No,” I answered. “Why?”
“There’s a big unveiling tomorrow morning at Grand Central Station. My father is showing off his rocket-train ahead of this Saturday’s launch. It’s little more than a photo opportunity, a chance for my father to brag about his business now that he’s added rail transportation to his portfolio of conquests. All the press will be there, along with the city’s bigwigs and my father’s investment partners.”
“And Mrs. Hart?”
“Of course. She’s always been the trophy wife on his arm.” He paused. “I’m just wondering…” His words trailed away.
“You think your mother’s lover will be there.”
“He’s their chauffeur. He’ll be the one to drive them to the station, there’s no doubt he’ll be there. What I’m wondering is, will you attend? With me? As my guest?”
“Harry, you’ve hired me to investigate whether your mother is having an affair. If anything, I should be lying low. Besides, I’ve always had the distinct impression your father would never approve of me, despite the fact he’s never met me. I think I’m better off hiding in the shadows.”
“But don’t you see? If you attend as my guest, it’ll give you the opportunity to hide in plain sight. You can do all the investigating you need, right under everyone’s noses, and nobody will know any better. To them, you’re just another invited guest.”
I hesitated. The idea seemed dangerous, and yet it made perfect sense. “All right,” I reluctantly agreed. “But if anything goes pear-shaped, you know I’m gonna have to pull out of the case… for everyone’s safety.”
“I just want to get to the bottom of this as fast as possible.”
I felt his body tense once more. I didn’t wanna make any promises, but given the encounter with the one-eyed German at the Cheshire and the pin Stella and I had found, I was pretty certain this case went deeper than Harry first suspected. If that was so, there was no way I was going to pull out, whether things went pear-shaped or not.
I had Harry to protect…
I had a mystery to solve…
And a chauffeur to track down.