“Are you okay?” Wallace sat forward. Getting his fork was going to give Winnie a concussion.

  His mate rubbed his head. “We should’ve gone for burgers.”

  Wallace went back to talking with Jack but kept an eye on Winnie to make sure he didn’t accidently stab himself with his butter knife.

  By the time their meeting was over, Wallace could tell that Jack wasn’t happy with his choices. Then again, Jack made money hand over fist working for Wallace. He stood to lose his gravy train with Wallace’s retirement.

  Jack bid his farewell and walked out, his phone pressed to his ear before he made it out the door.

  “He seems angry,” Winnie whispered as he slid his finger through the sauce used on the pork chops and stuck it into his mouth.

  “He’ll get over it,” Wallace said. “He has a ton more clients to contend with.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “I take it you liked your dinner?”

  “The food was fantastic.” Winnie smiled. “What kind of desserts do they have? I feel a sweet tooth coming on.”

  Wallace wanted to clear the table and toss Winnie onto it, making his mate his personal dessert. He’d been thinking about that all through dinner. Those plump lips around his cock. Winnie on all fours, begging Wallace to fuck him harder while Wallace pulled the man’s hair. Using the table for a sixty-nine position.

  He pressed the heel of his hand into his groin. They needed to get out of there. “Are you sure you want to stay?”

  Winnie’s cheeks reddened as he looked where Wallace’s hand was. “We can get dessert later. Get the check so we can go.”

  Wallace stood. “No need.” He grabbed Winnie’s hand, the two practically racing out and to the car.

  When they got in, Wallace told Chapman to raise the privacy glass. When it was in place, Wallace pulled Winnie onto his lap. He yanked Winnie’s shirt over his head and then unsnapped his jeans. Wallace curled his fingers around his mate’s cock as Winnie hissed.

  “Are you sure Gorilla can’t see us?” Winnie unbuttoned Wallace’s dress shirt and spread the fabric, brushing his warm palms across Wallace’s pecs.

  “Positive.” Wallace spat in his hand and stroked Winnie’s cock. “You have too many clothes on.”

  Winnie threw his head back and laughed. “So do you.”

  It took them less than a minute to get naked. Wallace reached into his pants and retrieved the small packet of lube.

  “You carry that around with you?”

  “Since meeting you,” Wallace confessed. “I’ve stocked lube all over the house.”

  “Aw, how romantic.” Winnie attacked Wallace’s lips as he tweaked Wallace’s nipples. The tiny shocks had Wallace arching his back, gripping Winnie’s cock tighter.

  “Need you in me,” Winnie said against Wallace’s lips before he slid off Wallace’s lap and engulfed his cock.

  Wallace threw his head back and gritted his teeth, clamping his hands on his mate’s head. The privacy glass was in place, but Chapman was a shifter and had superior hearing. Wallace didn’t want the bodyguard knowing how Winnie sounded in the throes of passion. Their sex life was nobody’s business.

  He fucked Winnie’s mouth in short bursts, so close to his orgasm that his balls hurt. But that wasn’t how Wallace wanted to come. It would’ve been amazing, but he wanted inside Winnie’s tight ass.

  “Get up here.” He eased Winnie’s head away from his lap. His mate licked his lips, gazing up at him from under his thick lashes.

  Fuck, he was a pornographic sight. Wallace wished he could take a picture to remember this exact moment.

  “Don’t you like what I’m doing?” Winnie squeezed Wallace’s thighs, lurching forward to try and recapture Wallace’s spit-slicked cock.

  Wallace was tempted to let him have it.

  “Didn’t you need me in you?” Wallace patted his lap, and Winnie came willingly, his own hard cock bobbing as he moved. It was a nice size, beautiful girth, and Wallace’s mouth watered.

  Later. He’d suck Winnie’s dick later. Right now he wanted to feel his mate’s tight heat gripping his cock.

  Wallace lubed his fingers and drove them inside Winnie’s ass. His mate cried out, gripping Wallace’s shoulders. Fuck he was beautiful.

  “Better be quiet before Gorilla hears you,” Wallace whispered.

  “Who did what when?” Winnie looked as though it took every ounce of concentration to process a thought. He was bouncing on Wallace’s fingers, his lips slightly parted, and Wallace was eating that shit up. He was the one making his mate lose his mind, and that stroked the shit out of his ego.

  After a few moments of stretching, Wallace lined his dick up, and Winnie sank onto it. The slow descent was killing Wallace. He kept his hands on his mate’s hips, forcing himself not to thrust upward and bottom out.

  This was Winnie’s rodeo, and Wallace was just the patient bull waiting for the signal to move.

  Winnie rested his head on Wallace’s shoulder. “Just taking a moment to enjoy how wide you’re stretching me. God, I love this feeling.”

  “As much as I’m enjoying it, too, I need to move before my balls shrivel up and fall off.”

  Winnie chuckled. “So dramatic. Fine, start moving.”

  That was all Wallace needed to hear. His grip was still on Winnie’s hips as he punched his upward, jacking himself off with his mate’s tight ass.

  That was what it was like for men. Jerking of the dick. It didn’t matter if lips, ass, a hand, or, for most men, a pussy was doing it. Just tugging of the skin.

  At least that was what Wallace used to think until he’d met Winnie. Now it was all about touching, kissing, the pounding of the heart, and the need to make sure his mate got off, too. The closeness. The intimacy. The tiny groans falling from Winnie’s lips.

  Wallace wanted it all.

  Winnie thrust downward as Wallace pistoned upward. Their rhythm was in sync as his climax grew closer. Wallace’s canines descended, and he bit into Winnie’s shoulder, deepening their bond as Winnie cried out.

  Even their orgasms were in sync. Wallace’s body exploded at the same time ribbons of cum shot from Winnie’s. He pulled his teeth free and licked the wound before curling his arms around his mate, who rested against Wallace’s chest, panting and sweaty.

  Now this was how to rectify their fucked-up morning.

  Chapter Nine

  Winnie tossed his bags into a corner of his room. He’d deal with them later. He was still upset about what Lenny had done, even though it hadn’t been his cousin’s fault.

  Winnie had also gotten a taste of fresh air, and he hadn’t been ready to come back to his room. If he was allowed to roam the house, that might’ve made a huge difference.

  Restless, Winnie opened his door. Fernando was in the hallway, sitting on a straight-back, cushioned chair, looking at his phone. When Winnie exited his room, Fernando looked up. “What do you need?”

  He’d said it friendly enough. He also had kind blue eyes. “Bored.”

  Winnie sat on the carpet, his back to the wall, bending his legs so he could rest his arms on them.

  “Sorry, but you have to stay in your room. Boss’s orders.” Fernando tucked his phone away. “Didn’t I see you bring some bags in? Don’t you want to put the stuff away?”

  “Do mindless chores thrill you?”

  Fernando chuckled. “Not at all. I do my own laundry, but then I live out of the basket until I need to wash them again. I hate putting them away.”

  A thought struck Winnie. “Do you play cards?”

  Fernando looked down the hallway. “I’m supposed to stay out here, and you’re supposed to stay in there. If the boss catches me in your room or you out here, he’ll remove my head.”

  “Okay. How about I keep the door open, you sit on the floor just outside my room, and I sit just inside it? You won’t be disobeying orders then.”

  Winnie had to do something to pass the time before he went nuts. He’d rather sit on Wallace’s balcony where he could enjoy the fresh air, but knew Fernando wouldn’t go for that idea.

  The bodyguard looked as though he was mulling the idea over. “Got any cards?”

  “Yes!” Winnie jumped up and dug through his trash bags. He’d thrown a deck in there and was thankful he had. He came back, box in hand. “What do you wanna play?”

  “Poker?”

  Winnie shook his head. “Never learned how to play that. How about gin rummy?”

  Fernando got off his chair and sat on the floor just outside Winnie’s door. “What’re the stakes?”

  Winnie thought about that. “How about, best ten hands? If I win, you sneak me into the backyard to see the stars tonight. If you win, I won’t talk about leaving my room again.”

  Winnie was determined to win.

  “Just for ten minutes,” Fernando said. “And if we’re caught, it was nice knowing you.”

  The guy was thick with muscles and tattooed on one arm. He had pretty green eyes and a head full of lustrous black hair. He even spoke with a slight accent. From his surname, Winnie surmised he was Spanish but was too polite to ask.

  He sat and crossed his legs before dealing the cards. “Too bad we don’t have sodas and snacks,” Winnie said.

  “Let me take care of that.” Fernando pulled out his phone and texted someone. Five minutes later, Gibson shuffled down the hall with a tray in his ancient hands.

  Winnie jumped up to help, but Gibson shook his head. “It is my duty, young sir.”

  No one could say that Winnie hadn’t tried. Fernando took the tray and set it on the floor next to them. There was one glass of soda, one bottled water, and a bunch of snacks.

  “Will there be anything else?”

  “Thanks,” Winnie said as he picked up the soda. “This will do, and it looks great.”

  With a slight nod, Gibson shuffled away.

  “How old is Gibson?” Winnie set his glass down, picked up his hand, and organized his cards.

  “I think he was around when Moses parted the Red Sea.” Fernando grabbed a handful of pretzels and popped them into his mouth. “I’ve been working for Mr. Winter for over a decade, and Gibson was here before me.”

  “Do you have your own place or live here?” Winnie picked up a card. He didn’t have any matching suits in his hand.

  “I’m in the east wing. Aside from me and Chapman, there are three other bodyguards employed, but they’re only called if needed. You might think of them as temps. Only me and Chapman live here.”

  Winnie knew the house was big, but it had its own wings? That excited him thinking about all the passageways he could explore. There had to be a ton of them. Not that he was into spying, but when a person was bored, they’d do anything to pass the time.

  They played until they were tied. One more hand would determine the winner. Winnie sweated bullets as Fernando kept racking up points.

  Even if he was stuck in his rooms, he still could sneak into the passageways. Fernando didn’t have to be the wiser. Technically the hidden corridors were an extension of his room. Sort of. That was a gray area Winnie was willing to exploit.

  “What in the hell is going on?”

  Winnie fumbled his cards, dropping them when he saw a stranger coming toward them.

  “Mr. Winter’s brother,” Fernando whispered before he got up. “Get into your room.”

  Winnie didn’t argue. He left the cards and tray in the hallway as he hopped up, but the brother was there, stopping Winnie from closing his door.

  “You must be Winnie.” His smile wasn’t pleasant. From the corner of Winnie’s eye, he saw Fernando texting.

  “And you are?”

  “Lucky.”

  Winnie wasn’t sure if that was his real name or a nickname. He kept his hand on the door, ready to close it as soon as Lucky was out of the way.

  This was the guy who’d turned into a tiger and chased Winnie down.

  Lucky leaned his arm against the doorframe. “So you’re what has Wallace taking secret meetings.”

  How had Lucky found out about that? Winnie was sure his mate hadn’t told his brother about meeting with Jack What’s-his-name.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Winnie pushed on the door a little, but Lucky didn’t move. But he did turn his head and look down the hallway.

  “Get out,” Wallace snarled. Winnie was relieved his mate arrived and gave Fernando a thankful look.

  “What the hell?” Lucky turned to face his brother. “I was just making polite conversation. You have a rule against me talking to your guests?”

  Lucky sounded genuinely offended. Winnie didn’t know the guy. It could’ve been an act. But someone in the house was a traitor, and if Winnie was a betting man, which he was, he’d say it was Lucky. The guy just had that shady look about him.

  “We’ll talk downstairs.” Wallace approached Winnie’s door. He looked at Winnie for a brief second before closing it.

  Crap. The cards. Wallace would know Fernando had been playing with him. He hoped he hadn’t just gotten the guy in trouble.

  Winnie pressed his ear to the door. When he didn’t hear anyone, he opened it and stuck his head out. Fernando was back in his seat, the tray and cards on the table next to him.

  “How bad?” Winnie asked.

  “Not good,” Fernando said. “Your mate looked as though he wanted to kill his brother.”

  Winnie frowned. “How did you know?”

  “Mr. Winter never brings anyone home, let alone gives them a room.” Fernando brought the tray back over. “Finish our game? I was kicking your ass.”

  Winnie opened the door all the way. “You’re living dangerously.”

  Fernando gave him a wolfish grin. “It’s the only way to live.”

  “I’m dealing again. I know you looked at my cards.”

  “I would never.” But Fernando had a sly smile on his handsome face.

  After sitting back down, Winnie took a long drink of his soda then got right down to losing. Fernando had beaten him by ten stinking points.

  “Double or nothing?” Winnie picked all the cards up while Fernando munched on the snacks. “I really don’t want to be stuck in my room.”

  “New bet,” Fernando said.

  That piqued Winnie’s interest. “Stakes?”

  “You win and you’ll keep your same deal, only I’ll make it three nights a week. I win, and you’ll stop sneaking into the passageway.”

  Winnie nearly dropped his drink as he stared wide-eyed at Fernando. “How?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Fernando said. “I’ve been here long enough, and I’m too damn nosey for my own good. Discovered them about three years ago.”

  “Does Wallace know that you know?”

  “I don’t think so.” Fernando popped a handful of peanuts into his mouth. “If he does, he’s never said anything to me.”

  That meant, if Fernando was the traitor, he had access to Winnie’s room when he wasn’t on duty. Easy kill and no one would be the wiser.

  Was Fernando willing to take Winnie outside because he could lead Winnie into the woods and murder him without anyone knowing?

  Winnie’s stomach soured. He pressed his hand against his belly, feeling slightly sick. Now he knew how Wallace felt, about not trusting anyone. It truly sucked when you couldn’t trust those around you.

  They finished their game, and this time, Winnie won, but he took no joy in his victory. Not when he was too damn suspicious of Fernando’s motives.

  * * * *

  Hours later, Winnie was seated in Wallace’s office. His mate looked imposing and deadly behind his desk. Winnie felt like he’d been called to the principal’s office as he fidgeted in his chair.

  “I thought I’d stressed how imperative it is that you stay in your room.”

  “I was in my room,” Winnie argued.

  Wallace narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare split hairs with me. You know exactly what I meant, and that didn’t include sitting in your doorway and playing cards with someone who may or may not be the guy who’s betraying me.”

  “Well, when you put it like that.” Winnie folded his arms, wishing he’d heard the traitor’s voice more clearly so he knew who it was. “I was bored out of my mind. There’s not much for me to do in my jail cell. The television in there doesn’t even work.”

  And Winnie’s laptop had been giving him problems, refusing to connect to the Wi-Fi. He’d finally given up, laid on the floor, his arms and legs spread, staring up at the ceiling.

  That was how Wallace had found him before he’d hauled him to his office and locked the door.

  Wallace rubbed his temples. “Don’t you understand that I’m trying to keep you safe?”

  Winnie understood that, but he was more concerned with Wallace’s headaches. He got up and went behind his mate’s chair, moving Wallace’s hands aside. Winnie massaged his temples and part of his scalp. There wasn’t another word said, except maybe a low groan.

  “Is this helping?”

  Lenny used to suffer chronic headaches when he was a teenager. Winnie used to massage his cousin’s temples all the time. He was an expert at it, though he hadn’t done it in a while.

  “Tremendously.”

  “I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate it. But you can’t keep me locked in my room. I’ll go nuts. How about I can roam the halls as long as you’re with me? That seems fair.”

  Wallace stayed silent for so long that Winnie didn’t think the guy would answer him. His hope had begun to plummet when Wallace said, “That seems fair enough.”

  Winnie wanted to do a happy dance, but he was too busy trying to relieve the tension in his mate’s head. A cramp sliced across Winnie’s stomach. He winced but kept rubbing Wallace’s head. He felt a bit lightheaded, and the room had grown too hot. His fingers slowed as he blinked several times.

  The room spun, and the next thing Winnie knew, Wallace was down on the floor kneeling over him. “Winnie, what’s wrong?”

  He felt like the worst symptoms of the flu had hit him all at once. Achy body, feverish, weak. He just wanted to lie there for the next ten years. “I…I don’t know.”