Page 22 of Pursuing the Egoist
“Wait…” Pink spread over her face; a deeper color of embarrassment touched her nose and ears, but her jaw flexed in determination. “Do you know how I ‘earned’ these?” She gestured to her stomach. Kuon didn’t reply, so she continued, “Yesterday, I was late for dinner because some asshole blocked my car. Sergen thinks I’m having an affair.”
“Are you?” Yugo barely heard Leiris say.
“I hadn’t yesterday, but I might today.” Leiris opened his mouth to say something, but she lifted to her toes and kissed him. “Stay with me tonight. I’m scared, Kuon. Please… Only one night. I really need it.”
Yugo smirked, watching Leiris hesitate for a heartbeat before dropping the jacket to the floor. Greg turned off the audio and glanced back, seeking approval.
Yugo nodded, “Good job. Now, get everything ready.”
“What about her?”
“Her?” Yugo slipped off the windowsill and strolled across the room toward the bar. Grabbing a glass, he filled it with ice and added a splash of whiskey. “Don’t touch her until the delivery or Sergen will freak out. Make sure she can’t leave the city. Is she religious?”
“I don’t know.”
“I wonder if she is superstitious… Arrange some bad luck on her way to the station, so she won’t think about leaving. If it doesn’t work, rob her. If she comes home after being missing for a night, she will have enough problems with Sergen.”
“Got it.” Getting up, Greg grabbed his smartphone and hurried out of the room.
THE WIND BLASTED INTO THE OFFICE,and a few snowflakes landed on Yugo’s nape. He cringed as the cold wetness abraded his skin and nerves. Outside, the snow flurry grew violent, and keeping the window open didn’t seem like an option anymore.
Unwillingly, he got up from the leather couch and slammed the window closed, causing the glass to rattle from the impact. He’d been hoping that the cold air would lull him, but the instantly warmed room, ruined the expectation. For a moment, he thought that going back to the accounting reports would make him sleepy, but he shrugged off the idea as unproductive. In his current state of mind, where his disjointed thoughts kept scattering around, sex would be a better option. He thought about Mio and his message, then considered calling Rudolph to arrange a rent boy, but a low rustle drifting from the outside interrupted his thoughts.
Turning the lights off, Yugo glanced out of the window. Greg’s black Audi A8 slowly rolled toward the gates, headlights off.
“A lover, huh?” Yugo never liked unknown variables in his games. Having Leiris on his hands was annoying enough. Now, Greg acting absentmindedly, made him question his diligence. The impulse to send a tail after Greg died as he realized his burning curiosity could have serious consequences. Greg had never given him grounds for questioning his loyalty. Sending a car after Greg wouldn’t only be a direct intrusion into his personal life; it would be an insult.
For a long minute, he watched the car drive out of the gates and turn right. The headlights flared in the distance, and the vehicle disappeared from view.
Turning away from the window, Yugo lit up a smoke and took a first, nerve-numbing drag. His thought jumped from Greg to Lena Vogel but didn’t stay on her for long, slipping further to Leiris. “So, they weren’t lovers, after all.”
‘People talk about a huge batch coming from Iran. Pure like Jesus’ tears.’Leiris’ voice resounded in his head.
Though the information was limited to a narrow circle of people, there hadn’t been a delivery for three months. Anyone, from street dealers to ingrained junkies, could speculate about it, knowing a new shipment should hit Vienna any moment. Yet, Yugo wished he knew whose tongue he should shorten.Weird anxiety drove him to his desk. He took a seat and reran the footage.
Pausing now and then, he dissected Leiris’ body language, looking for any tells and deviations in his behavior, but nothing, in particular, caught his attention. The man seemed genuinely interested in the woman and eager to help. The conversation stopped with the kiss, and Leiris carried her to the bedroom. Yugo switched the camera. The screen blinked, showing a king-size bed covered with a red bedspread from two angles: from the side and from behind.
Yugo didn’t need to watch it, as Greg had already checked the footage and said that nothing worthy of his attention happened after the conversation, yet a worm of doubt crawled into his chest, urging him to recheck every piece of information received.
Carefully placing the woman on the bed, Leiris pulled off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest and powerful arms.
Yugo crushed his smoldered cigarette in the crystal ashtray, noticing the perfection of Leiris’ skin. No tattoos, no piercings, marred it. A part of him expected to see dark hair covering Leiris’ chest or back, but the man’s torso was smooth.
Absentmindedly, Yugo grabbed a lighter and spun it around his restless fingers, watching the kiss deepening on the screen. Leiris, delicately, gently, undressed the woman, caressing her skin with a featherlike touch. The powerful shoulder blades shifted with every move.
Yugo put the lighter down, as the man on the screen wrestled out of his jeans and trunks. Even if the detective wasn’t Yugo’s type, now, on all fours, with his ass facing the camera, Yugo found him gorgeous. The easy sways of his hips, the tightening balls that exposed his building arousal, and the crack of his ass—all bore a titillating promise. Yugo wondered if anyone had ever touched that tight opening. If anyone had ever seen it?
For no reason, his mood lifted.
Folding his arms behind his head, Yugo watched the tight, round globes of Kuon’s ass move with every lap of his tongue. Trying to ignore the female body, Yugo switched his attention to Kuon’s feet, ankles, and calves, then to the tight, drawn up balls. Kuon certainly wasn’t Yugo’s type, yet he found him pleasant to look at.
When Leiris put a condom on and thrust forward, his foot struggled to find balance against the crumpled sheet. Veins swelled on his arms as he placed his elbows at either side of the woman’s head.
Yugo tugged at his tie, freeing his throat from the tight leash he wore all day. His face warmed, making him want to open the window again, but the storm roared, curtaining his window from the outside with a white shroud of snow.
Kuon’s back glimmered. His hair clung to his forehead, and a gentle pink painted his shoulders.
Tongue dry and harsh against his palate, Yugo picked up his glass without looking away from the screen but stopped his hand before it reached his mouth; instead of whiskey on the rocks, only melted water splashed at the bottom. Cheek jerking, he put the glass aside. He could have paused and gotten himself another drink, yet he couldn’t stop watching. There was something off in the picture, something he craved to put a finger on.
