Page 6 of A Mistake of Identity
Ellis stubbornly held his gaze. “I am not a bird. And I don’t want to ‘take flight,’ as you put it.” Ellis’ hand slid onto Gabriel’s thigh, and try as the escort might to keep his touch steady, Gabriel could feel the slight trembling.
“Are you nervous, petit oiseau? After you so boldly approached me in the lobby?” Gabriel watched as Ellis’ mouth pinched in annoyance briefly before that fake smile spread across his handsome features once more.
“I just wasn’t expecting a man of your caliber to be summoning the likes of me.”
Gabriel hummed in response, content to let Ellis continue believing whatever he wanted. He didn’t want to give up his game just yet. He opened his mouth to reply when Ellis’ phone rang. Ellis went to answer it, but Gabriel caught the name ‘Donovan’ lighting up across the screen, the same name as the proprietor on that cheap calling card his escort had handed him in the Lumière.
Gabriel snatched the phone from Ellis, powering it down before tucking it into his breast pocket.
“Hey! That was my boss!” Ellis made a futile attempt to reach for the phone, but Gabriel slammed him down into the seat. Looming over him, he pressed his thigh against the man’s groin, grinding down with deliberate pressure.
Ellis let out a delicious hiss.
“Don’t you think it rude to be accepting calls while on the job?”
“It was my boss,” Ellis repeated, as if that somehow changed things.
Gabriel shifted the hand that had been cradling Ellis’ face a moment ago to his throat.
And squeezed.
It was not enough to cut off his air completely; it was just enough pressure to remind Ellis exactly who was in charge.
“Your boss can wait. Now, where is the dossier you received on me?” Gabriel asked, not releasing the pressure on Ellis’ throat.
“Phone.” The man wheezed out.
Gabriel hummed, trying to imagine that squat man’s sweaty hands pawing at what was now his. Just the thought of that cheap suit against Ellis’ fair skin, of those stubby fingers leaving marks that weren’t Gabriel’s own, made his jaw clench. No doubt the man would have bent Ellis over some tacky hotel bed, rutting into him like the common beast he was, treating this fascinating creature like just another Fourth Cat whore.
No. The phone would stay off. Let Donovan and his pathetic client wonder. Gabriel had found something far too interesting to share, especially with someone who wouldn’t properly appreciate it. He tightened his grip on Ellis’ throat, savoring how perfectly it fit in his hand.
No, Gabriel had Ellis now, and he planned to keep him.
“What did it say?” Gabriel asked, releasing the pressure slightly so Ellis could speak easier. The man’s hands had wrapped around his wrist, his eyes wide with fear and arousal.
Ellis sucked in air, shifting slightly beneath Gabriel, bringing their hard cocks into alignment accidentally. Ellis let out another hiss.
Gabriel squeezed the escort’s throat again.
Ellis took that as the warning it was. “That you wanted to be in control. Needed it. And a list of preferences…”
“Preferences?” Gabriel asked, amused. Curious about what the squat man’s sexual preferences were.
Ellis tried to nod, but Gabriel’s hand at his throat prevented it. He swallowed hard. The feel of the escort’s Adam’s Apple beneath his hand had Gabriel’s cock hardening further. He ground it into the handsome man beneath him.
“List them, little bird.”
“Is that all?” Gabriel asked, running his thumb up Ellis’ neck, stroking the man’s pulse point. Lingerie. Now that was interesting. He’d never particularly cared for such things before, finding them too contrived on the delicate boys Henri favored. But the thought of what Ellis might be wearing beneath those carefully chosen clothes—what he’d put on expecting to please that worthless man in the lobby—had Gabriel’s fingers itching to explore. To discover and claim whatever secrets his little bird had prepared for another.
Ellis’ eyes darted to the driver and the man in the passenger seat, a flicker of unease crossing his face. Gabriel smirked. His petit oiseau shouldn’t worry about Alain Beaumont and Lucas Moreau. They had been by his side since they were fourteen, handpicked by his father, Maximilien Rohan, from families just wealthy enough to attend the same prestigious academy as the Rohans, but not quite wealthy enough to maintain their social standing. The arrangement had benefited everyone—their families gained connections and status, while Gabriel gained two shadows who would grow into his most trusted confidants.
Twenty years later, they were more than just a bodyguard and an assistant. They had weathered everything together: the brutal expectations of the Rohan name, Gabriel’s rise to CEO,countless boardroom battles and bedroom conquests. They’d watched him break hearts and spirits with the same clinical efficiency he used to destroy business rivals. Their loyalty wasn’t merely bought—it was forged, tempered by time and trust. They wouldn’t blink at their boss’s current entertainment. They never did.
Just as he never questioned theirs.
“I don’t remember. If you gave me my phone…”
“No. You will get it back when our time together is over. Do you understand?”
