Chapter 4

“Nice!” Paul said as it began to pour. He sighed contentedly as he turned on the wipers and reclined in his seat. He was waiting for a convoy of semis to show up at a barn in the middle of rural Pennsylvania. It wasn’t expected for another three hours but Paul liked napping in the car, especially when it rained, so he left for the site early. His phone rattled in the cupholder and he bit his lip as his nerves fizzed at the blank screen. He accepted the call then put the phone to his ear. “Is there anything better than a rainy fall afternoon in Pennsylvania?” He asked as he used his shoulder to hold the phone.

“A rainy day in Paris and a breathtaking view of the Sienne and the Eiffel Tower,” he replied drowsily and Paul shook his head as he tapped a few pieces from a box of Good & Plenty into the palm of his hand.

“I’d still take Pennsylvania. It’s silent and the leaves are changing. And I love the smell of rain in the countryside,” he added and there was a loud yawn.

“And I thought this was boring before the rain started and made it impossible to see into the car,” he complained and Paul grinned as he popped the candy in his mouth then chuckled as he chewed. “How can you eat those? They’re vile,” he said and Paul shrugged.

“Your mom’s vile,” he joked.

“She is but I think I’d rather eat her than licorice,” he replied and Paul hissed.

“Sorry, it was sort of a wild stab but it’s not that funny, now that I think about it,” he admitted.

“Eh. She is what she is. I didn’t get like this on my own.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Paul asked hesitantly.

“Not even a little. If you aren’t murdered by a man in a hockey mask, you might check on Hal Roth,” he said and Paul frowned as he shook the box quietly.

“The Financier?” He scoffed and there was a hum and Paul’s brows jumped. “He’s been in hiding for years, trying to outrun the FBI so he doesn’t have to testify,” he said.

“I think you’ll find him in Miami.”

“What’s he doing in Miami?” Paul asked.

“At the moment? He appears to be floating face down in Sam Gicante’s swimming pool,” he said and Paul sat up.

“Seriously. Do you know what happened?” He asked and there was a longer hum.

“I wasn’t invited to that particular party but I’m going to guess from the rather large hole in his chest and all the blood surrounding him that it was a gunshot,” he stated and Paul whistled.

“I’ll get someone else down here to supervise this then get my ass to Miami,” he decided as he began swiping at his screen so he could message the director. There was an email in his inbox and his phone buzzed at an incoming text message.

“There. You’ve got your message trail for your reliable tip,” he said and Paul’s teeth scraped over his bottom lip.

“I’m still not sure why I trust you.”

“I haven’t steered you wrong yet and I would never burn you,” he said sweetly and Paul rolled his eyes.

“And why is that?” He asked and had to shift in his seat as he purred silkily.

“You’d stop answering my calls and I’d miss you,” he said and Paul groaned as his cock became hard.

“I’d miss this,” he said as he rubbed his shaft through his pants. The things his voice did to his body…

“I miss seeing it,” he muttered. “But I do love listening. You make the sexiest sounds,” he added and Paul’s nose scrunched. He doubted it but if it worked for him.

“You could see and hear it all in person whenever you want,” Paul offered.

“I wish I could, I’m working on something very serious and it’s got me quite busy at the moment,” he replied and Paul pulled a face.

“Something serious in Paris?” He asked and there was a soft laugh. It was low and warm and made Paul feel a little drunk.

“This isn’t the serious thing but my employer is becoming quite a name in the fashion industry,” he said and Paul sneered. “Jeremy Holderson” made his skin crawl and his stomach twist every time he thought about him. Lane West made it clear he wasn’t going to help and he would become even more secretive when Paul mentioned Holderson.

“It’s strange how he’s not at all attached to his label yet everyone answers to him. How is he opening a flagship store in London but there’s no history? He doesn’t exist prior to designing his first collection three years ago but he’s being quoted in Vogue and GQ,” he pointed out.

“People do love an aura of mystery. He’s capitalized on that brilliantly,” he replied then made an impatient sound. “I hate to give away my secrets but if you took your laptop into the bathroom with you, I could watch,” he said and Paul’s head pulled back as he became tense.

“Watch me do what?” He asked and there was a loud laugh.

“Nothing too niche,” he said and Paul relaxed. “I’d abuse the shit out of myself if you let me watch you in the shower,” he confessed and Paul’s cheeks puffed out as his face became hot.

“I don’t know…” He said and there was a whimper.

“Take it out,” he begged and Paul swore as heat spread up the back of his neck and pooled in his groin.

“Somebody could see me,” he argued.

“I can’t see you! It’s going to take another agent at least an hour to get there and you’re in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere and it’s pissing out. Who’s going to see you?” He urged then made another demanding groan. Paul muttered curses under his breath as he turned in his seat and checked the windows. The barn was the only thing for miles and there wouldn’t be another soul around for at least an hour.

“You owe me,” he grumbled as he quickly pulled his belt loose then opened the fly of his trousers.

“I’m recording myself right now,” he whispered and it was slightly giddy and Paul felt a gnawing tingle in his ass.

“What are you doing?” He asked and there was a tremor in his voice as he tightened his hand around his cock and squeezed. He was so painfully hard.

“Just a moment…” He said and Paul’s phone buzzed. He put it on speaker then opened the message and his sack tightened as his thumb tapped the picture.

“Motherfucker! I hate you!” He cried as his head fell back. He beat it against the headrest several times then looked at his phone again. It was foggy and drizzling in Paris and he was sprawled out on his back on a hotel bed. His robe was open and spread around him and he was hard and large. A thread of pre-cum stretched from the head of his erection and two fingers were pushed deep into his ass. His hole was tight around his fingers and Paul’s body ached as his skin burned. “God, I need those fingers in my mouth,” he ground out as he stroked his length. There was a sucking sound and Paul’s eyes watered. How can he be this cruel?

“Mmmmm… That’s so good,” he said and Paul was in agony as his sack pulled tighter and intense pressure pushed into the base of his cock.

“I’m going to use your cum as lube then lick your hole clean when I’m done,” he panted as he reached for a Starbucks napkin. He shook it out hastily and realized he was going to need about twenty more.

“Do you ever think about boxing but fucking while you’re doing it?” He asked and Paul dropped the phone. It bounced off the center console and onto the passenger seat as the pressure burst from his groin and sparks of heat and pleasure rushed down his legs and up his spine.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” He gasped as his eyes rolled and cum pushed up the length of his shaft. He caught it with his hand as air hissed in and out of his teeth and he arched and jerked wildly.

“Mother of God!” He moaned loudly then laughed. It came out as a high pitched wheeze and Paul nodded drunkenly then exhaled loudly as he stared down at his hands. He winced as he tried to collect it all with the napkin then wadded it up and stuffed it in a bag.

“That was no help,” Paul muttered. He shrugged then raised his palm to his lips and licked it clean. He sucked the cum off his fingers and he sighed. It sounded forlorn and Paul grinned.

“If you’re this good in person, I will have your babies,” he said dreamily. Paul chuckled as he fixed his pants.

“Thanks for waiting until after I got off to put that into my head.”