Page 87 of Zero Tolerance

“Sean.”

“Yeah, big bro?” he hollered.

I pulled a business card out of my back pocket and held it out toward him.

Drake elbowed him, and my brother sheepishly strode forward. At least he didn’t stumble or weave—so he wasn’t drunk off his ass, thank fuck.

“Merry Christmas,” I said as he took the card, and I rubbed his hair in the way that had always earned me a punch when he’d been younger.

He stared at his name in gold lettering. “No. Fucking. Way!” His voice rose with every word, and he jerked his head up, his smile wide, and blue eyes similar to my own lit the fuck up.

I turned my focus on the crowd, scanning over faces of people I would die for. Kill for. Quite a few closer to my heart than my own blood. “I’d like to make the official announcement that Elite Escorts has created a gay branch—and Sean Fox will be acting as the manager.”

He let out another whoop and actually did a little dance.

People broke out into applause, but there was more laughter than anything else.

“It’s about fucking time!” Someone yelled from a corner of the room.

“I’m hiring!” I called back to whoever was on board with my plans for expansion.

Sean threw his arms around me, squeezing me tight, and I lowered the mic to hug him one-armed. “Thanks, Micah.” It sounded as though tears clogged his throat. “I’m not going to let you down.”

“I know you won’t. This opportunity is going to give you a reason to find more in life than partying all the time, and you’re going to make us both wealthy as fuck.”

“Can I whore myself out too?” he asked, pulling away and laughing although wetness hazed his eyes.

I snorted. “As if I would expect you to sit in an office rather than bend over as part of your new job.”

“You’re the best.” He grabbed my face and planted a kiss on my lips.

“Ugh, seriously?” I wiped over my mouth as he turned toward my wife.

“Sorry!” He laughed his apology at Jasmine and headed for Drake.

Little fucker. He was going to drive me nuts. Maybe I would get him an office separate from the one attached to my home. I would definitely need another secretary to help my wife handle the workload since she’d picked up Tuesdays in the office once we’d secretly expanded.

“Bar’s open!” I spoke into the mic, my voice easily heard over the guests who’d begun to talk amongst themselves again. “Happy holidays—and get an Uber if you’ve had more than one drink!”

People lifted said drinks, and we all pretended to clink our glasses and bottles together. The guests went back to party mode.

Blake clasped my shoulder and disappeared into the crowd, murmuring something about finding his little birdie.

Jasmine met me halfway as we both strode toward one another to lessen the distance between us. “He seemed happy.”

I snorted a laugh. “You think?” I wrapped my arms around my wife’s waist and held her close. “New year is coming up soon. Any resolutions?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Just plans.”

“Such as?”

“Crossing off a few more of those deviant items on my bucket list.”

“Oh?” I asked, curious to what she wanted to try out first.

Jasmine toyed with my tie and smoothed down my starched lapels that didn’t need straightening. “Well, since we crossed off the crop and paddle—which I loved both if you remember.”

I did. Vividly enough that my dick twitched at the memory of the marks I’d left on her skin, how she’d flown into subspace even before climaxing.

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