Arlo’s heels dug into Dimitri’s ass, spurring him on, until his orgasm punched from him and he was spilling between them. He rose just enough to wrap his fist around Arlo’s flushed cock, using his cum to jerk him with little finesse, unable to tear his gaze away from Arlo’s face. He had his head thrown back, his lids at half-mast as he gazed at Dimitri, fucking up into his tightened fist until he cried out. Dimitri dropped his gaze to watch Arlo come over his fist, working him until he winced.
Dimitri raised cum-covered fingers to his lips, offering them to Arlo. His lips parted to accept Dimitri’s offering, not just tasting them but sucking them clean. Christ, that was hot.
Dimitri was half-tempted to leave Holden rotting in the trunk of his car so he could just stay there, learning all the ways he could take Arlo apart. “You’re so fucking sexy,”
Arlo flushed, smiling bashfully, before he hid his face behind his hand. “Shut up.”
Dimitri pulled his hand away. “I mean it. Sometimes, I just sit and watch you at work, wondering what you’d do if I just pulled you into the back office and fucked you on Maggie’s desk.”
Arlo flushed. “You’d have to push all her Funko Pop dolls on the floor first.”
Dimitri grinned. “I’d risk Maggie’s wrath to be inside you.”
Their boss had a weird obsession with the little plastic figurines. Dimitri took Arlo’s hands in his.
Arlo flushed. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“I can if it’s true,” Dimitri countered.
Arlo rose up on his forearms. “What time is it?”
“Late…or early, I guess, depending on how you look at it.” Dimitri took a deep breath and let it out. “Don’t freak out, but my mom called. We need to go back to the warehouse. It’s time to finish this.”
Dimitri watched Arlo’s Adam’s apple bob convulsively. But he just nodded, looking resigned.
They didn’t shower, just cleaned up in the sink. Arlo pulled his borrowed pants back on, but Dimitri insisted he put on something thicker than the cardigan he’d worn earlier, throwing one of his hoodie’s towards him, then tugging a beanie over his head, before changing into black jeans and a hoodie himself. He didn’t want to get blood on Adam’s couture.
Arlo didn’t speak the entire ride back to the garage, just held Dimitri’s hand in a death grip while he stared out a window far too obscured by ice to provide much of a view.
When they turned into the industrial park once more, Dimitri said, “If you want me to handle this, I can. You can just meet me in my car when I’m finished getting rid of him.”
Arlo shook his head, finally turning to look at Dimitri. “No. No way. The last time you tried to save me, I lost you for years. You can’t just keep cleaning up my messes.”
Dimitri frowned. “It’s our mess. You were defending me. He was trying to killme.”
Arlo gave him a suspicious look. “You probably could have defended yourself,” Arlo said. “I just panicked.”
Dimitri thought back to that moment. “Honestly, I couldn’t get any leverage. If he’d slit my throat, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. You saved me. So, nobody is cleaning up anybody else’s messes. We’re in this together. Okay?”
Arlo gave a stilted nod. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Dimitri scanned the streets, noting not even the homeless roamed at this time of the morning. As they pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse, the anemic glow of the streetlamp was the only light. The windows at the top of the bay door revealed nothing inside but inky blackness.
Dimitri squeezed Arlo’s hand one last time before he hopped out of the car and punched in the number to open the place up, jogging back to the car and hopping in while they waited for the door to crawl slowly upward.
Dimitri’s headlights revealed the interior a strip at a time. When the door was a quarter of the way open, Dimitri frowned, his heart pounding a little faster. They should have been able to see the tires of the Mercedes. Maybe he’d pulled it farther into the space than he’d thought?
He heard Arlo swallow hard beside him, then felt him grip his wrist. The entire concrete floor was visible now. There was no Mercedes.
Arlo’s gaze jerked to Dimitri in confusion. “Where is it?”
Dimitri studied the recesses of the space like it was an optical illusion, like the car had to linger behind some false wall. “I don’t know.”
Arlo’s voice shook as he asked, “Did your mom have it moved?”
Dimitri shook his head. “She would have told me if she’d done that.”
Wouldn’t she? Maybe she was trying to teach Dimitri some kind of life lesson to make sure he never chose violence again. She had no way of knowing he hadn’t chosen violence the first time.
