Capture & Surrender_Market Garden by L.A. Witt & Aleksandr Voinov

Author:L.A. Witt & Aleksandr Voinov [Witt, L.A. & Voinov, Aleksandr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2013-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

A couple days later, Frank arrived in the club around ten in the evening. Raoul gave him a quick briefing, and at ten-thirty, Brandon walked in. His Stefan mask was well in place, but Frank could see he was tired, an uncharacteristic sluggishness in his movements. He turned to Raoul. “What’s up there?”

“Had a very early client.” Raoul wiped the bar vigorously, playing up his muscles in the extremely tight, white wifebeater he was wearing today.

“Three hours early?”

Raoul nodded.

Wow. Although Brandon did well in short bursts of energy, three hours had to be wearying as hell, and keeping a man under control and anticipating and then wearing him out? That sounded like a lot of effort. Frank admired Doms for that level of sustained energy they needed if they wanted to last in the business. Nick had had the same ability to pace himself and give everything without actually giving his all.

Frank pushed away from the bar and walked over to Brandon, who had taken a seat on a bar stool.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Brandon nodded at him, then smiled. “Doing well, boss. How are you? Had a good evening?”

“Bizarre, somewhat.” Frank grinned. “Customer tried to pick me up. I wasn’t sure whether to punch him or laugh at him.”

Brandon laughed. “Either way, he has good taste.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

Brandon gave him a down-up leer, and then winked, but didn’t say anything.

“You seem tired.” Frank pushed up against the bar. “You going to be okay to work tonight?”

Brandon sat up a little straighter, as if he was ready to tell Frank that hell yeah he was okay to work tonight, but then he leaned over the bar. “Just need to wake up a bit. Hey, Raoul.”

The bartender approached. “Hmm?”

“Red Bull, please. In fact, make it two.”

“Can or glass?”

“Can, unless you’ve got an IV you can hook me to.”

Raoul laughed and produced two cans of Red Bull from beneath the bar. Then he disappeared, leaving Frank and Brandon alone.

Brandon popped one of the tabs. “Give me half an hour or so, and I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you pushing yourself that hard,” Frank said. “You need to be—”

“I need to have my A game, I know.” Brandon took a few swallows from the energy drink. “I’m good. Don’t worry.”

“Clients want more than someone running on fumes.” And I don’t want you out there with a john if you’re not alert and vigilant.

“So what do you want me to do?” Brandon finished the first can and eyed the second. “Take the night off? I need the money, Frank.”

“I do want you to take the night off. You’ve been here almost every night this week, and I know damn well you’re raking in plenty.” He arched an eyebrow. “You’re not in debt to the Mob or something, are you?”

Brandon laughed. “No, it’s nothing like that. But unless you want to become my civil partner so I don’t get shipped back stateside, I need all the money I can get.”

“I suppose.

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