He had the rest of the day to contemplate that memory and prepare for his meeting with Tack, and apparently Knight would be joining them tomorrow morning.
Not a surprise, though a nuisance, but Knight Sebring was the hero of every working girl in Denver. So after Lannigan cut a swath of vengeance using Benito’s whores to do it, some intervention from Sebring was expected.
However, Knight would be easily enough handled. It wasn’t Benito who’d murdered five prostitutes. Such a thing was bad for business in a lot of ways, and Sebring knew Benito was all about business.
Benito was pleased to note there wasn’t much to prepare for the meeting.
That morning, enjoying a leisurely late breakfast before his scheduled guests arrived, doing it giving considered thought following the foul day he’d had yesterday, Benito had come to the conclusion that, in the end, it would be just as he’d decided he wanted it to be anyway.
He’d offer the bones as immunity for past lapses in his better judgement. He’d promise to continue to stay off Chaos’s patch and explain it would soon no longer be an issue as he’d be focusing solely on his filmmaking enterprises (something that would assuage Sebring). And they would band together to find Lannigan, his other offerings allowing him bargaining power to have some time with the asshole before Chaos did whatever they were going to do with him if Chaos found him first.
And perhaps them allowing him to watch whatever they were going to do with him.
With Knight in the mix, someone would find Lannigan.
He hadn’t even really needed to go to Mamá Nana, though he wanted at that motherfucker first.
Not to mention, months of looking, both him and Chaos, it would have been advantageous if he’d been the one to find Lannigan, one-upping the Club. It would also go a long way not only with relations with the Club, but also to repair some of the chinks in his reputation that Camilla and Lannigan had left after they’d played him.
But after visiting Mamá Nana and the feelings he felt through that he didn’t like much, he’d reassessed the situation and reminded himself he was already flirting with the idea of streamlining his operations.
Recent events just solidified that.
Whores refusing to go out.
Angry pimps invading his space.
Sitting down with police to explain he had no understanding of what was happening as he ran no stable of prostitutes, so he could not imagine why they were wasting his time. And further, he had utterly no idea who might murder five poor wayward women or who Arthur Lannigan was. He hadn’t even heard of the man.
That police interview alone had cost him fifteen hundred dollars in attorney fees.
He couldn’t continue to bleed this kind of money on attorneys and doctors and informants and securing the loyalty of his own men.
In normal times, he wouldn’t think of it.
Whores refusing to go out, and because of what Lannigan was doing, even dealers getting fidgety, if his earnings continued to take a hit, and he kept having massive expenditures, his resources would begin to run precariously low.
It went without saying, he’d worked too hard to earn them. He absolutely was not going to allow the likes of Arthur Lannigan to destroy all he’d built.
Absolutely not.
Yesterday had not been a good day.
The last several months had not been good months.
Today was much better.
What a difference a good sleep, a good think and a good fuck made.
Yes, he should have considered men long before this. They got off, they left and got off with someone else. Those two men wouldn’t think of him again until tomorrow night. No scheming and conniving and emotional tangles. He paid them for their services, gave them a healthy gratuity, the end.
Benito was fine with that.
With a smile, he moved from the bed and went to the bathroom.
He disposed of the condom and grabbed a plush, deep-blue washcloth to clean his cock and wipe the lube from behind.
He then went into his closet and found some lounge gear, royal-blue pants and matching shirt in a soft, stretchy material that was warm, but breathable.
It was the best money could buy. His loungewear. His washcloth. His apartment with the view of the Front Range. And everything in it.
He’d let loose his ambition, his greed, and he’d been extremely successful.
It had been exhilarating.
Now he would have to scale back to keep it, however Benito liked to think of it as a sort of semi-retirement.
The result would be no more whining pimps and twitchy dealers and unnecessary attorney fees and visits to Mamá Nana.
And he was fine with that too.
Very much so.
He pulled on his loungewear, his mind on the best, he started thinking about Tallulah.
He had not given up thoughts of her.
She would not be an emotional tangle.
Unafraid of him, she would be his equal. He would watch her work, give her the resources to grow their brand and it’d be his next great success.
And when, or if, she ceased being useful, he’d scrape her off.
In the meantime, they’d had that discussion about m/m for his films.
He’d been averse.
She’d said it was “hot.”
He’d give her free rein on that to see what she’d come up with.
And he decided, between the two of them, if that was something she liked, he’d order some for her, those to her liking, and let her watch.
And perhaps play with her while she did.
Finding this prospect intriguing, he moved back through the bathroom into his bedroom and stopped dead.
He did this because an enormous man with longish, light-brown hair was throwing himself on his bed.
“Could get used to digs like this,” he stated in a voice Benito liked better than either of the other two.
“Yeah. I hear that.”
Benito’s eyes moved to the man who was joining the large man on the bed, his swarthy features, thick beard and gravelly voice, Benito liked even better.
He would cancel his Monday plans with the others.
And order up these two.
And he wouldn’t even ask for them to change out of their jeans and tees so they could arrive as he required.
They clearly were rough trade and that would be an interesting change.
They also obviously had the words he’d given to the agency to get by his men at the door.
So this was another mistake Benito could forgive.
“The agency has made an error,” he said, gaining both their attention. “I’ve already been serviced.”
“Oh, we know,” the large one said, his bright blue eyes on Benito, and he tipped his head across the room.
Benito looked that way and froze to the spot.
He did not fully take in the tall, slender woman with short, brown hair, form-fitting black leather pants, a silk shell under an army-green blazer with deep, feminine lapels, a delicate platinum choker around her neck and high-heeled, strappy, platinum sandals who was leaning insouciantly against the doorjamb of his room (though obviously he did take in her clothes).
His television was on.
And on it was a video of him at the beginning of the proceedings with the men who left not fifteen minutes go.
He was on his back, his cock being sucked, his knees forced high and wide, while the tall one straddled his head, fucking his face.
The angle was perfect, to the side, you could see everything.
He did not search the room for the camera.
Because he felt the cold invade.
And he relished it.
“Might have to give you a rest, bro, watchin’ that,” one of the men on the bed said, revulsion unhidden in his tone.
“I don’t know, the guy at his mouth has got talent,” the gravel came. The dark one.
He looked to the bed only to see the big one had his gun out of his nightstand.
He was tossing the clip to the bed. He then palmed the bullet he released from the chamber and shoved the gun into the back of his jeans.
All this he did smiling irreverently at Benito.
That chill dug deep.
“Hey there,” a female voice sounded.
He cut his eyes to the woman.
She lifted up his remote.
“Should we fast forward to the good parts?” she asked.
“Dude, you gotta check the teeth,” the big man on the bed advised, and Benito forced his gaze back to him. “Felt for that fucker, you nearly ripped his dick off when you came.”
They’d watched.
“FYI, my man, some dude named Knight bought the Dusk Agency. Boys who just drilled you?” the dark one said. “They’re his.”
He had not been made aware of this.
This did not make Benito happy.
Yes, it was time to streamline. It felt like everything was falling apart.
“Can you explain to me how I can help you three?” he asked coolly.
“Well . . .”
The brunette oozed into the room with a sensuality that even in the current situation Benito had to take a moment to appreciate.
She slithered onto the bed and tangled herself with the two men in a way that Benito immediately made the decision to order that ménage film from Tallulah. She’d have to revise her schedule. But it was going to be their next film.
“We’ll start with ten million dollars,” the brunette finished.
He stopped thinking about Tallulah and ménages and narrowed his eyes on the woman, his insides pure ice.