“That’s it, darling. Fuck him the way you like to be fucked. You’re so hot like this. So beautiful. Mine. Both mine.”
The strap-on now rubbed continuously against her engorged clit, while Josh stimulated her cunt with his thrusts. She couldn’t think, could only feel, react on instinct and impulse. When Josh cupped her breast and pinched her nipple, Beth let her own hand drift low to grab Oliver’s cock. Pre-come had slicked his shaft, making it easy for her to pump him, pull him closer to blissful release.
One moment she was focused on the sound of Oliver’s breathing and Josh’s fingers, and the next her orgasm blasted through her. Beth had been so caught off guard she momentarily forgot herself and thrust hard and fast into Oliver, needing to increase the pressure against her clit. Josh kept pace, slamming into her.
Oliver’s cock pulsed in her hand moments before he let loose a strangled groan of his own, and come spurted over her fingers. She wished she had a real cock then, wanting to know what it would feel like to have his muscles contract around her shaft. The sensations that would rip through her as Oliver came hard. The thought of it had her clenching her pussy around Josh, trying to keep him trapped inside her.
Josh pushed her forward, holding her flush against Oliver. “Close.”
Supported by Oliver, Beth opened herself as much as she could and let Josh take what he needed from her. It didn’t take long before he squeezed her hips hard and came into her one final time with a shout.
Perfect.
They dropped to the blanket, a giant tangled, sticky mess. Beth needed to stay connected, to keep touching them. She was falling in love with these men, both of them. But she didn’t know if that was enough to keep them with her. If she would ever be enough for one of them, let alone both.
Did people even have relationships like this? It was one thing to fool around for the purposes of sex; it was another to stay together in a relationship. As far as she knew, Josh wasn’t even interested in something like that. God, he was still planning on moving to Montreal the first chance he could.
“Sleepy,” Oliver muttered. “You broke me.”
Josh hummed his agreement.
“My bed’s not huge, but we should all fit.” She kept her uncertainty from her voice. There’d be time to examine her doubts later.
“Sounds good. I’ll let you know when I can move.” Josh rolled onto his side facing them. “You were fantastic.”
“Thanks.” Her throat tightened and for a moment, Beth thought she might lose it.
“Stop talking,” Oliver said into the floor. “Sleep.”
“Bossy.” Josh slapped his ass.
“My only chance. Take it where I can around you two.”
The banter died down as sleep threatened to overtake them. Beth was overthinking things again. She needed to talk to them about this, where it was going and what they wanted. Really, they should have done that weeks ago, before things got this serious. Because now, if they told her they wanted something different than what she thought, Beth didn’t think she’d be able to walk away.
She couldn’t lose them. Not now.
Chapter Fourteen
They’d stumbled to bed at some point. Josh didn’t speak, instead letting Beth continue to direct them, placing the three of them in her too-small bed. Cramped didn’t begin to describe it, but then he had an excuse to hold them both tight in his arms.
For once he slept soundly.
Instead of the round of morning sex Josh had fantasized about, the trio was wakened by the incessant ringing of a cell phone—his. Beth grumbled and Oliver moaned as Josh carefully extracted himself from their mess of limbs.
“Sleep. I’ll be back.”
Neither woke enough to follow him. His body was pleasantly relaxed as he yanked the phone from his jeans and skirted out of the bedroom.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Scott? This is Toronto One Security.”
Fuck. “The alarm went off at the club?”
“It did. I’m sorry, sir, but we need you to go down to turn off the alarm and meet the police.”
His stomach soured. “No problem. Thanks for the call. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He debated waking the sleeping couple to let them know what was going on, but he hoped to be back long before they got up. No sense in contributing to their exhaustion if it wasn’t for more pleasurable pursuits. He settled for jotting down a quick note and propping it up against the coffeemaker where they’d be sure to find it.
The early morning traffic was thankfully light as he made his way to Mavericks. He hoped this was nothing more than a false alarm. Josh started compiling a quick grocery list, thinking of what he could make them for breakfast when he got everything straightened away and returned to Beth’s apartment. He’d gotten up to flour, apples and cinnamon for the pancakes when he turned the corner and was greeted by the sight of multiple police cruisers in front of the club.
Without bothering to park in the lot, he pulled the Audi behind the cruiser and hopped out. “Hi, there, I got a call from the security company. What’s going on?”
“Mr. Scott?”
Josh walked past the officer to the front door of the club, which was standing open. What the hell? He’d locked that before leaving last night. Words failed him as he moved up the few steps and into the foyer to deactivate the alarm.
“We got here and took a quick look around.” The officer was a young man in his mid-twenties, clearly new and unsure of what he should be doing. Nervous, or at least not looking forward to delivering the bad news to Josh.
“How bad is it?”
“You can go in. Try not to touch anything, though. We still need to get prints, for what little it’s worth.”
Josh nodded, but his attention was drawn to the mess inside. The smell of wet paint grew stronger with every step he took. Someone had taken at least two cans—oil-based paint, if the fumes were any indication—and covered both the St. Andrew’s Cross and half the bar in fluorescent pink. Glass littered the floor from smashed beer mugs and alcohol bottles. The stench of the liquor mixed with the paint made him sick.
“Fucker,” he muttered, careful to step over a trail of pink still rolling slowly across the uneven wood. “How did he get in? This place is always locked up.”
The officer, who’d been trailing him, thumbed at the direction of one of the second floor windows. More glass covered the staircase, and the remaining jagged edges in the window glinted in the early morning sun.
“From what we can tell, someone moved the dumpster to get to the fire escape ladder. They clearly have been in the club before and knew which window to break.”
“They?” The idea of more than one person doing this to his place had his stomach rolling.
“We’re assuming more than one at this stage. Given the other damage, that is. If there was only one, he or she would have known there would be a slow response from your security company or you, to give them more time.”
“What other damage?”
The officer sighed. “Be careful of the glass.”
Dread filled Josh as he followed the officer up the stairs. Before he even got to the top, the clumsily painted words were visible on the wall by his office.
Whore Josh.
Those two words reduced him to feeling like a piece of shit.
He wanted to punch something. Scream. Call his dad and cry like a kid.
Instead he straightened his shoulders and let out a shaky breath.
“Why don’t you come outside, Mr. Scott? We’ll let the lab guys do what they need to, and I can get a statement from you. Is there anyone you need to call? Insurance agent? Friend?”
Immediately he thought of Beth and Oliver curled up in her bed, resting peacefully. They should be here, and not only because they were
his assistant manager and head bartender. He needed someone he could trust to help him through this. Hell, he needed someone to keep him from losing his mind.
But the idea of pulling them into this shit, into someone’s sick and twisted view of something he considered beautiful…no, he couldn’t do that to them. Not yet, at least.
Really, he should call Paul. He was the logical choice, not only because he was Josh’s best friend, but Paul was on the board of directors as well. He would be here in matter of minutes, dragging Sadie behind him to help. They’d hug and support him, helping wherever they could.
As quickly as the thought flitted through his mind, he dismissed it. Paul didn’t need this aggravation either. Paul had been there the first time Josh’s life had come crashing down. He’d given so much to help Josh over the years, taking nothing for himself. Right now Paul was likely in bed wrapped around his wife, warm and content. Josh didn’t want to drag him into this mess any more than he wanted to dump it on Oliver and Beth.
Whore Josh.
But he did need help. Josh also had a more immediate need—to make sure his computer files were secure and his client information wasn’t in any danger.
“Yeah, I need to call a few people.”
The officer waved him to the side once they got back out onto the street. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Josh pulled his BlackBerry from his pocket and, quickly scrolling through his contacts, stopped at the person he knew would be able to help, and pressed the call button.
“Jeff, sorry to bug you so early.” Josh closed his eyes. “Someone broke into the club and trashed the place. Think you might be able to come down and check the computer system? I want to make sure they didn’t get into the client database or financial information.”
Paul’s soon-to-be brother-in-law Jeff ran an information security company and had taken great care to set up security measures for the club. “Is everyone okay? No one got hurt, right?”
“The place was empty.”
“Do you want Ian to let Paul and Sadie know? I can wake him—”
“No, don’t.” Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone will find out soon enough. For now, let’s keep the insanity at bay and deal with the necessities first.”
“I’m just at Ian’s. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
With support on the way, Josh turned his attention to the police. He quickly gave them a statement and was ushered to the side. Forced to wait while the officers finished their walk-through of the building, he tried to go through the list of people who knew the club well and potentially wanted to stir up shit.
This was a personal attack. It might have started out as random vandalism, but whoever this was had shifted their attention to Josh and his people. They’d regret their choice if Josh ever got his hands on them.
The names of a few potential suspects floated to the surface, but no one really stood out as being particularly violent. Word hadn’t spread about him wanting to open a second club either, so there shouldn’t be any issues there. Beth would have a better idea if she went through the roster. She was always tuned in to the club and how people were feeling.
Right now he could be back at her apartment, stretched out beside her and Oliver. He could be pushing his cock into Beth while he leaned over and sucked Oliver’s morning erection. They’d be panting and moaning for him to let them come. To fuck them. To hold them.
Maybe he should call and let them know what was going on.
“Josh!”
Jeff was striding down the street with a tray of coffees and doing his best to stifle a yawn. Josh hadn’t wanted to drag any of his friends into this mess, but he trusted Jeff and his experience with security to know what best to do.
“Thanks for coming. Sorry to wake you so early.”
Jeff grinned even as he plucked a coffee from the container and handed it to him. “It’s good to shake up the morning routine. How bad is it?”
“Bad. Vandals did a number on my place. After you’ve had a chance to check the system, maybe you could offer a couple of suggestions on how to proceed.”
Jeff knew more than a few of the officers from the station. Several called out to him as they waited. “How about I pop over and see if there’s anything else I can find out? You been inside yet?”
Whores. He winced. “Yeah. I need to get it cleaned up before any of the clients or staff see it. We’ll probably have to close the club for a week or two.”
“That bad?” Jeff knew how much the club meant to him, and he appreciated the other man’s concern.
“Yeah. I’m not sure when they’ll let me inside for cleanup.”
Josh thumbed over the BlackBerry in his pocket and debated calling Beth and Oliver. He was probably being stupid for not letting them know. No doubt he’d get an earful from Beth when she found out.
“Why don’t you call whoever it is and get it over with? Like a Band-Aid.”
Josh looked up, not realizing he’d pulled the phone out until he was distracted from the screen by Jeff’s words. “I’d rather wait for a bit. I want to get a start on the cleanup before they see.”
Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “Not Paul and Sadie, I take it.”
“No.” Josh frowned. “Why would you say that?”
“Apparently I’m perceptive.”
Josh snorted.
“I’ve worked in all types of security long enough to learn how to read people.” Jeff motioned toward the phone. “You’re trying to protect someone. You should know that doesn’t work. Do them the courtesy of calling them and telling them what’s going on. Let them be here for you when you obviously need it.”
Josh stared long and hard at Jeff. It was obvious not much got past Blue Eyes.
He scrolled down to Beth’s contact information and pressed dial. “Hey, sorry to wake you. Can you and Oliver come down to the club? Someone’s broken in.”
* * *
The police finished taking his statement and gave him permission to go back into the club. Jeff suggested they take extra pictures for the insurance company, then made a quick call to let them know what had happened.
Once Josh had called Beth and Oliver, something clicked in his brain. There wasn’t time to feel sorry for himself or rage against the unfairness of it all. Fuck that. While whoever did this had tried to make things personal, Josh couldn’t let it go that way. He ran a successful business, and he needed to act every inch the savvy businessman. If he didn’t, if he let himself slip into a mire of self-pity and doubt, he might as well put a for sale sign out front now.
He needed a plan to ensure things wouldn’t spiral out of control. This attack was not only going to cost him a significant amount of money on repairs, forcing him to dip into his savings for the new club, but it would taint the perceptions of any future investors. This invisible bastard had done a lot more harm than simply smash windows and throw some paint around.
How could he even think of opening a second club when he couldn’t keep Mavericks safe? Not now. Not until he knew things were under control. He’d need to postpone Montreal for the time being, no matter how badly he wanted it. Postponing meant another list of things to do today. Fine, pile it on and he’d deal with it too. For now the critical thing he wanted dealt with was that word erased from his wall as quickly as possible. Its very presence was a literal and figurative stain on everything he’d built at Mavericks, and he wouldn’t tolerate it a second longer than necessary.
“Oh, my God.” Beth’s voice echoed in the club. “What the hell happened? Josh?”
Shit. “I’m upstairs.”
He wasn’t ready for this. He’d underestimated how quickly Beth and Oliver would make it from her place. He’d figured they would have needed a few minutes to wake up. Maybe eat. Something to delay the inevitable viewing of the hate etched
on the wall.
Hell, he’d barely gotten himself under control, staring at the words Whore Josh on the wall. The cops told him he shouldn’t clean anything up until the insurance company finished their preliminary investigation. He’d had to fight with them to let him stay while they reviewed the security footage, the officer concerned that Josh would get emotional or try and take things into his own hands. It took effort to keep calm and not prove the cop right as he watched some man in a mask paint the slur on the wall before continuing to trash the establishment.
He didn’t want Beth and Oliver to see this.
Didn’t want them to see him as he was forced to watch his dream be smashed to bits around his feet. Because they’d recognize his attempt to put on a mask and hide how much the damage to the club hurt. He’d be forced to tell them about having to put a hold on the expansion and would have to suffer through their looks of pity and concern. Beth in particular would try and find a way to make things better, and it would be too much. Josh would push her away.
She’d come to resent him. Oliver would back her up and Josh would be left alone.
Again.
“Holy shit,” Oliver said as he reached the top of the stairs. “Careful, Beth, there’s more glass up here.”
Beth didn’t say a word as the couple stopped a few feet away. Their mutual gazes shifted from the word to Josh and back. Tears filled Beth’s eyes and, before he knew it, she was pressed to his chest.
“Tell me they caught the fucker responsible.” Oliver stepped close and squeezed her shoulder. “I mean, what the hell? Who would do something like this?”
“Not yet, but they’re looking.” Josh kissed the top of Beth’s head. “I’m sorry I had to wake you up for this. I wasn’t going to, but—”
“What do you mean you weren’t going to, boss-man?” It was rare for Oliver to lose his cool, but Josh could see the anger simmering beneath his surface. “We should have been the first ones you called.”
Calling the Shots Page 14
