Atonement (The Protectors 6)

The second Magnus had stepped into the office, he’d immediately said, “No” in that no-nonsense tone of his that grated on my nerves. I had no idea if he’d been given a heads-up about Ronan’s desire to have him shadowed for whatever trial he was testifying in, but after sparing me the briefest of condescending looks, he’d pinned his cold blue eyes on Ronan and Memphis, repeated the word “No” and crossed his arms, as if the discussion were over.

But that hadn’t been the disturbing part…no, I’d actually enjoyed the little scene because I’d been eager to watch Memphis and Ronan take the fucker down a notch.

Only I hadn’t gotten to see any of it.

Because said fucker had looked at me briefly before casting his eyes back at my bosses and his expression had spoken volumes. Ronan hadn’t even looked my way when he’d politely asked me to leave the room.

Fucking dismissed like I was nothing.

And by the two men I respected above all others. Two men I’d actually thought would stand up for me when push came to shove. I’d waited outside the door long enough to confirm not even a single raised voice coming from inside and then I’d done what I always did…whatever the fuck I felt like.

Not caring that I hadn’t actually been given permission to leave, I’d hunted down my sloppy mouthed Caterer Guy who’d been busy loading glasses into packing crates in the quiet kitchen. I’d grabbed him and a bottle of what I’d suspected was very high-priced whiskey from the kitchen counter and dragged him outside and around the corner of the house. It had been pitch black outside, but that hadn’t stopped me from popping the top off that bottle, downing several swallows as I’d shoved Caterer Guy to his knees in front of me to finish what he’d started. He’d protested for all of five seconds before I’d grabbed him by the chin and told him I’d get him off twice for his efforts. When I’d slid my hand over his ass and squeezed hard, he’d let out a greedy moan and then fumbled with my zipper.

It hadn’t taken him long to get me ready because my fury had already gotten me where I needed to be. I’d let him suck me down for as long as it had taken me to fish a condom and some lube out of my wallet and down another swallow of booze, all as I’d kept shoving my dick down his throat until he’d been gasping for breath. Then I’d manhandled him to his hands and knees and told him to get his pants down. His underwear had barely cleared the backs of his thighs when I’d pushed a well lubed finger into his body and nailed his prostate on the first glance. When he’d let out a startled cry of pleasure, I’d slammed my hand over his mouth, plunged a second finger into him and finger fucked him until he was ready to blow. The second my cock pressed past his tight outer muscles and slid over his sweet spot, he’d come hard. After that, I’d ridden him to my heart’s content, wrenching another orgasm out of him as I’d vented much of my initial frustrations on his tight hole before finally letting myself come. And the second the aftershocks had started to ebb, I’d pulled out of him, tossed the condom on the ground, grabbed the nearly full bottle of whiskey and left him there on the cold, wet grass, his body still quaking with pleasure as I’d strode around to the driveway to my car.

At that point I hadn’t given a shit about anything, including the one thing I had left in this fucked-up world…my work.

Because with one spiteful look, Magnus had taken that from me too.

I’d fully expected to wake up the next morning hungover and with a text telling me I was fired, considering I’d walked out of Ronan and Seth Grisham’s house despite still being on the job as Matty’s bodyguard. I’d gotten the hungover part, but the only text I’d had from Memphis had been to meet him back at the house later that morning. I’d figured that meant I’d be getting the kiss-off in person, but when I’d arrived, Memphis had merely told me that Magnus and I would be leaving for Texas on New Year’s Eve day and that while I would be following Magnus’s lead, my first and only priority was to keep the older man safe and bring him home to his grandson.

When I’d started to apologize for not being around the night before to shadow Hawke, Tate and their son, Memphis had put his hand up dismissively and explained that the other operative I was sharing the duty with, Cain Jensen, had informed them of the change in who was covering the little boy. Since there’d been no conversation with Cain about switching duties, I’d wisely kept my mouth shut because I’d highly suspected my boss also knew such a conversation hadn’t taken place and, for whatever reason, was letting me off the hook.