Page 8 of Surrender

“But, Daddy, please,” Fox says, and he adds a moan. “You hurt me so good.” Then he smiles. “Or whatever floats your boat. I’m just saying, it’s a waste to collar me if you aren’t even going to fuck me. We’d both be blue-balled for no fucking reason at all.”

“So let me get this straight,” I say, my voice dry. “Instead of using the shock collar to punish you, I’m going to have to use it to reward you for good behavior?”

“I mean, I’d rather no collar at all.” Fox tries to reach his cock with his manacled hands, but the chains don’t extend that far. “And I don’t think the shocks will help me heal. But that wasn’t too bad. I’ve dealt with worse.”

I shouldn’t be amused.

I shouldn’t be aroused.

“I can turn it up,” I say, barely resisting the urge to adjust my cock in my pants as the idea of hurting him even more plays through my mind. I just want to hear the sound of his moans, to hear him beg… to hear him call me Daddy.

Fox makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a hiss. “Put it around my neck, then. I’d rather not burn off the skin of my cock. Fuck, that did hurt.”

“Good to know,” I say as I unwind the collar from around his limp cock. It’s a pity it’s limp, because there are other things I’d have liked to do with it otherwise. “Lift your head up so I can get this around your throat, pretty fox.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Fox slurs, stretching out his neck. “Hey, while you’re at it, can you stroke me a bit? Since I can’t reach.”

“Who says you deserve that?” I ask, slapping his cock instead of stroking it.

He bites his lip and stifles a groan. “What, you need me to… to buy you dinner first?”

“I’m a proper gentleman. Normally, I’d be the one buying you dinner,” I tell him, and this time I do give his cock a stroke—just one, before I withdraw and wrap the collar around his throat. “This looks good on you.”

For a split second, Fox sneers. I’m taken aback by the expression, after all the goading and bantering. But he catches himself and forces a smile.

“Yeah? Well, I’m either an expensive or a cheap date, depending on whether you’re taking me out or just throwing me over a toilet seat. So which is it?” Fox lifts his hips a bit and licks his lips. “My ass? My mouth? Or are you going to unshackle me so we can go out for dinner like civilized people?”

“But I don’t think you’re civilized,” I say, closing the little lock around the latch with a soft click so it stays in place. I don’t think for one second that he wouldn’t just remove it the second he could, and even the lock may not be much of a deterrent. “Your back could probably use a break, though, so I’ll extend the manacles so you can sit up.” I move to do just that, extending his reach so he can sit up more easily. I probably should’ve put him on his stomach to begin with, but that would’ve invited all sorts of thoughts I don’t need to be having about my would-be killer.

Fox sits up and shakes out his arms a bit, wincing openly. “That is a bit better.” He keeps his eyes fixed on me, and I don’t think it’s sexual interest. He’s still wary, but I can’t say I blame him. I’m just as wary about him. “Since we both decided neither of us had anything to do with… all of this, where do you think we should start investigating? Like we’re buddy cops or something.”

“I need to know more about who sent you to kill me,” I say bluntly. “Yes, yes, assassin code, etc., etc., but how many people actually knew you were going to try to kill me, let alone where you might’ve been in the building?”

Fox reaches up to test the collar, but he doesn’t attempt to actually remove it. “Nobody knew. I take jobs on my own. And no, I don’t actually know who paid me. I got the deposit; they used the right codes. That’s all I needed.”

“So someone’s had eyes on you, then,” I say slowly. “You didn’t notice someone trailing you? Stalking you?” I guess I should have as well. My pride hurts a little that I didn’t notice the set-up sooner, but it has to be twice the blow for someone like Fox.

“No stalkers. I’d have noticed that.” Fox makes a disgusted expression. “…They suggested the venue, though. I scoped it out before I committed, of course, but the warehouse was a good spot—well protected, too far for anybody to notice.” Then he meets my gaze. “What about you? Your weapons deal was a bust too. Did you know the person you were supposed to meet?”

“No,” I say, my voice clipped. “But the location… That’s mine. I own that warehouse, and I sink a lot of money into making sure it stays a good spot for trade-offs. It’s supposed to stay in my favor. I suppose we got complacent.”

We both sit silently for a while. I’m trying to figure out who could have betrayed me. One of my men, maybe? I guess it’s a good thing Fox ended up killing half of the ones who attended yesterday. Of course, if they’d rigged the building to blow, they wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the warehouse.

Maybe I need to look into anyone who wasn’t there yesterday…

Fuck.

It’s a mess.

“Who did you piss off, anyway?” Fox asks. “Most people don’t get hired hitmen sent after them. Not even most arms dealers.”

“If I knew, I’d be having this conversation with them and not you,” I point out. I shake my head. “I don’t go out of my way to piss people off. I’m not a saint, but most people don’t want to kill me after meeting me.”

“Did you piss off any of the other mafia families?” Fox suggests. “Like, uh… one of the Winters clan? Or maybe the Pavones.”

“The Winters have been quiet for months now,” I say, shaking my head. “And I don’t deal with the sex trade. Only time the Pavones get involved is if someone tries to fuck with their clubs.”

“Their clubs aren’t even any good,” Fox declares. “Nothing but naked women. Not a single gay sex club in sight. Fucking homophobes.”

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