Triple Threat (Triple Threat, Book 1) by Harner L.E. & Harner Laura

Author:Harner, L.E. & Harner, Laura [Harner, L.E.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Hot Corner Press
Published: 2013-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

An hour later, I was still chafing from Archer’s apparent decision to take Jeremiah after the party. I’d tried to shrug it off, but it had burrowed into my subconscious like a splinter and I couldn’t seem to stop picking at the wound. For his part, Jeremiah proved to be as efficient in leather and mesh as he was in his usual khakis. Although I was drinking club soda—I was working after all—my glass was never empty. With his gaze lowered and walking behind me, Jeremiah managed to anticipate my direction, my needs.

Despite the hour, a few late arrivals still trickled in, and the crowd pushed at maximum capacity as we moved toward midnight. I recognized a significant number of our guests from our club days, but I noticed many were strangers, definitely people we hadn’t invited. Good news for us.

Over the course of the evening several subs had presented themselves and requested my attention, however, none of them were Franklin, so I passed without explanation or excuse. A small commotion near the door drew my attention and I looked up in time to see two masked men talking with the doorman before they entered and moved into the crowded room. The mask actually made it easier to recognize Franklin—I wasn’t distracted by the new face or hair color, all I saw was the familiar slender frame. It was hard to disguise a backside that you’d striped with a riding crop.

The man with him was exactly who I’d expected. Good to know.

“Showtime,” I murmured.

“Found him?” Jeremiah leaned in to whisper his question, and his breath tickled against my cheek. I turned to face him and our gazes locked for a long moment.

“Put your fucking eyes down, boy.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jeremiah’s response was immediate and damn if my dick didn’t notice. Turning my back on my young assistant, I scanned the room looking for Franklin and worked at shoring up my determined indifference. I sternly reminded myself that these scenes, the smells, the public sex, were not for me tonight. For fuck’s sake…this was a cover story designed to draw in our target not an actual training session for the boy. Fuck. For Jeremiah.

Franklin stood near the bar, but pressed up against the wall, observing the crowd. There was no sign of his companion.

The next thirty minutes were the most critical part of our strategy. Would Franklin risk discovery by doing a scene with me? We‘d decided to make it nearly impossible to turn down, but I was worried about putting Jeremiah in over his head. I thought about making a last minute change—it would be simple to walk over to Franklin and with some covert prodding from my thirty-eight, convince him to leave the room with me.

I stopped short of the bar and pulled Jeremiah into my arms so that his back was against my front, my hands on his hips. As we swayed to the music, I rapidly whispered a review of our plan. Apparently Jeremiah thought it was

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