Page 16 of Deadly Legacy
Green eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, defiant even in submission. The sight of his partner on his knees, mouth stretched wide around him, sent heat pooling low in his belly. Those same brilliant eyes that dismantled financial schemes and outsmarted poker opponents were now dark with hunger for him.
“Fucking perfect.”
When heat began coiling at the base of his balls, Nikon gently pulled Reuben up by his hair. “My turn.” He pushed Reuben back onto the seat and made quick work of his belt and zipper.
“Been waiting for your mouth all day.” Reuben’s head fell back against the seat, throat working as he swallowed. “Fuck yes.”
Nikon took him deep in one motion. The weight of Reuben hit the back of his throat, salty pre-cum sharp on his tongue. Reuben’s hands scrambled for purchase, one gripping the seat, the other finding Nikon’s shoulder.
“Nikon... shit... I’m going to come too quickly if you keep that up.” His hips jerked upward, the expensive leather seat creaking beneath them.
Nikon pulled off with a wet sound. “Not yet.” He straightened up and grabbed both their cocks in one large hand, stroking them together. The slide of hot flesh against flesh pulled groans from both men, the sound seeming to bounce off the tinted windows surrounding them.
“Look at us.” His voice scraped from his throat, gravel-rough. “If this is how hot outrunning Dmitrii’s men gets you, then maybe we should get into tight spots more often.”
Reuben’s laugh transformed into a moan as Nikon twisted his wrist on the upstroke.
“Tighter.” His hips thrust up into Nikon’s grip.
Nikon obliged, increasing pressure and speed. He leaned in to bite at Reuben’s neck, just below where his collar would hide the mark. The salt of skin burst on his tongue.
“I want to feel you come all over my cock.” His lips brushed against Reuben’s ear. “Now.”
That command pushed Reuben over the edge. His body went rigid, back arching off the seat as he came with a bitten-off cry. Hot pulses coated Nikon’s hand and cock. The sight of Reuben surrendering, combined with the slick heat between them, triggered Nikon’s own release moments later.
They sat panting together, the air in the car heavy with the scent of sex. Nikon reached for the tissues kept in the door compartment. He cleaned them both with quick, deliberate movements, his hands steady despite the aftershocks still rippling through him.
“Still thinking about that board meeting tomorrow?” His voice remained rough around the edges.
Reuben tucked himself back into his pants, fingers fumbling slightly with his zipper. His lips quirked up at the corners. “What board meeting?”
Nikon’s phone buzzed against the leather seat. He glanced at the screen, the blue light, then grinned.
“Anton’s getting a little impatient.”
They straightened their clothes. Reuben smoothed Nikon’s collar while Nikon tucked in Reuben’s shirt, his knuckles grazing warm skin.
“Missed a button.” Nikon’s fingers worked at Reuben’s shirt front, lingering longer than necessary.
Reuben caught his wrist, fingertips pressing into Nikon’s pulse point. He leaned in and bit Nikon’s bottom lip.
“When we get home, I want you to finish what you started.”
“And how do you want it?” Nikon’s thumb hovered over the intercom button.
Reuben’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Hard enough that I’ll feel you tomorrow during that board meeting.” His breath ghosted against Nikon’s ear, sending a fresh shiver down his spine.
Nikon pressed the button. “Yes, Anton. We’re ready.”
Chapter 5
The Quantize Guard surveillance demo played across the conference room’s multiple screens, showing a test subject being tracked through a crowded mall despite multiple clothing changes. Reuben’s team watched with focused attention as the software tracked distinctive movement patterns, maintaining a 98% accuracy rate in identifying the subject.
“This is what Wallace Hoyt’s group is after,” Reuben said, pausing the demonstration with a tap of his finger. The conference room’s bright lighting highlighted the tense faces of his team of financial and technology specialists. “It will boil down to innovation versus legacy,” Reuben said, standing at the head of the conference table in Matthew Capital’s main meeting room. “That’s how we’ll position this competition against my father’s firm.”
The word “father” caught in his throat almost imperceptibly, a small hitch that he covered by tapping the screen to advance to the next slide. Through the glass walls, Reuben noticed the increased security presence Nikon had arranged—professionals positioned strategically throughout the floor, their vigilance disguised as corporate routine.
“Wallace Hoyt’s investment group has the advantage of a twenty-year track record,” he continued, turning back to face his team. “But we have something more valuable.” His finger moved across the screen, pulling up his father’s company’s financial data. “We have relevance.”
