Page 7 of Jordan

2. Every fitting will be done in my studio.

3. Half of the payment will be made up front before the designs are tailored to Mr. Altair’s needs. The balance will be paid upon completion.

4. I do not wish to be stressed. I will lay out the timetable to handle his request and ensure it’s done in a timely manner. Organization is key.

5. I’m only agreeing to one suit to start. Afterward, we can reevaluate to ensure we’d both like to move forward with more.

6. If at any point I feel threatened or in danger, I have the right to cancel with no refund for the time I’ve already put in.

The amount of respect I had for the man increased when I read them. Now that I’d met him face-to-face, I appreciated him even more.

My cock stirred behind my fly at hearing the little huff of indignation Hartley let out. It would be a pleasure to put him on his knees with my cock between his lips.

Men and women alike had been wrapped around my cock since losing Malik. He and I never went there, but that didn’t mean I didn’t think of him when I was with others while he was still alive. No one held a candle to him then. Now, I found my body was brought to life easily. Getting off was simple. Feeling more was something I’d tried to avoid since the bullet left the chamber of my gun. I didn’t want to fall in love again. The fact Hartley stirred feelings in me had to be put under lock and key.

Luckily, Reghan returned before I put a measurable step between Hartley and me. Hartley would have noticed, and I didn’t want to get on his bad side yet.

“All clear. I’ll be outside.”

Hartley didn’t let out the breath he was holding until Reghan was outside and Raiden had taken up his spot by the door.

“Very well,” Hartley said. “If you’ll follow me.”

The interior of the building didn’t match the outside. Inside, with the walls freshly painted a soft shade of beige, there was a warmth to it, even though the furniture was sparse. A few pictures hung on the walls, giving it a personal touch.

We went down a short hallway until we got to the back of the building, where a room opened up. At one time, this must have been a home, then was converted into a workspace. A long table laid out before us with different swatches of fabric on it in various shades and textures.

“Excuse the appearance,” Hartley said. “My studio was previously located in a nicer building but there were… circumstances beyond my control, and I had to downgrade to a more affordable rent.” The urge to ask him what happened was strong, but I bit my tongue and nodded along.

My team had already run a background check on him when I said I’d meet with him, more than a year ago. He’d explained to Tristan he had family matters to attend to that took precedence. A man who looked after his blood ranked high in my book. I gave him leniency for that and told Tristan it was fine if our meeting didn’t take place until Hartley was more settled.

What I didn’t want was for Hartley to work on a new suit for me, only to have the plans stall for months on end. I liked my clothes to be perfectly tailored to my body. My weight didn’t fluctuate much, though if it did, I wanted it handled immediately. Meeting with Hartley now allowed me to get the best fitting suit I could.

“No worries,” I told him. “From what I’ve seen, your work is excellent.”

A blush crept over his cheeks. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and focused on the table in front of us. “Tristan sent me a list of colors and fabrics. While I know that is what you usually stick to, he also said it was acceptable to add in pops of color. Here’s what I have for you in terms of the suit itself. I’d also like you to consider some vibrancy with either your collared shirt or an accessory like pocket squares. I’m not suggesting anything overly bold, more of a statement piece. You’re a powerful man who should command attention wherever you go.” The way the words powerful man rolled off his tongue had me wondering if he meant it or was simply buttering me up, so I’d commission more from him after the initial suit was finished. We agreed on one previously, as per Hartley’s terms.

“I’m open to color within reason. I have no desire to wear neon or anything else that would draw unnecessary attention. While I want to command a room, I don’t want to become a flashy target for those who’d rather see my blood decorating the walls and floor instead of remaining in my veins where it belongs.”

He blinked at me a few times before saying, “I can see your point. Very well.” He removed the brightest colors from the pile and left me with swatches of others to look through. I usually kept my suits on the darker side, preferring black and deeper shades of gray and navy. Some combinations Hartley was suggesting I wouldn’t mind trying out.

“May I?” I motioned to the table.

“By all means. I want you to pick what you like, so I know how to move forward.”

3

HARTLEY

I didn’t get flustered often. I’d learned early on that size didn’t make a man. At five foot eight, I made up for my shorter frame with confidence. Under the assessing hazel gaze of Jordan Altair Sr., I wasn’t sure if I should cower or pant.

Of course, I’d seen photos of him and searched his name online. Jordan was well-known for a multitude of reasons. And here he was, standing in my studio with his perfectly combed silver hair and his trimmed silver beard, easily six inches taller than me. In photos, I’d seen him have his beard longer. I liked the length it was now, perfect to tickle my skin or cause a bit of a burn.

“Mr. Weathers?” His voice coasted over my skin like a physical touch.

“Please, call me Hartley.”

“Very well. What do you think of the selections I’ve made?”

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