I was sweating despite the cool air, my balls pulling up tight. The room was too dark to make out his expression, but now and then I saw a flash of light reflected in his eyes, and I thought about his face, so beautiful, so regal, so savage—
“Angelo,” I whispered, my voice raw and hoarse.
“Shh,” he crooned, and kissed my temple. As he rolled toward me, I felt his hot, hard flesh against my side. He was as excited as I was, the slippery tip of him leaving a streak of wetness across my thigh as I moved involuntarily.
And then he kissed me, his mouth brushing against mine, his tongue tracing my lips as I let them fall open. His hand kept moving, kept up its pace.
I took a chance. I reached over clumsily, found his hip, trailed my fingers lower—but his warm hand disappeared from my dick at once, moving like a cobra to seize my wrist. He squeezed so hard I let out a hiss of protest, and he eased up, guided my hand back to my side.
And all the while, he kept kissing me, first gentle, then demanding, then gentle once more until I gave in and let him take the lead, let him kiss me however he wanted.
My cock throbbed, complaining and lonely, on my belly. He rubbed my left hip with soft fingers while his dick pressed against my right. I shuddered as I fought against my own instincts; I wanted to grab him, suck hard on his tongue, grind against him until we both came in a puddle of sweat and cum. But I forced myself still, clenched my hands into fists, and tried to slow my breath as he licked at my lower lip.
With a rumble of approval deep in his chest, Angelo’s hand took me up again, wrapping snugly around my shaft, and began to stroke me rough and fast. He’d edged me enough already that it wasalmostpainful,almosttoo much. Intense pleasure pooled in my gut then bloomed, engulfing my whole body as my orgasm poured out of me, bursts of cum striping up my belly and chest.
My back curved, bowing me up off the bed as he kept going, his kisses deep and hard, his hand wringing me dry until I couldn’t take it any longer and pushed him off, curling in on myself.
I could have sworn I heard him give a satisfied laugh.
I lay there, aftershocks spasming through me, only vaguely aware when he got up, returned, pushed me gently onto my back and wiped me down.
I let out a contented murmur of thanks, and then let myself pass out.
* * *
I woketo the same fluorescent light, wishing more than ever that there was a window in this godforsaken place. I rolled over, my nose twitching at the scent of coffee, and saw Angelo, fully dressed, undertaking his morning ritual.
“Get up,” he said. “It’s late. We have places to be.”
Not a word of what had gone down between us last night. For a moment I wondered if I had dreamed it all, and again when I showered, washing the last sticky residue off my own belly, I considered whether ithadbeen just a wet dream, the strange way the unconscious has of making sense of our needs and desires.
That was a fool’s wish, though. I’d let Angelo Messina put his hand on me—more, I hadbeggedhim to. It had happened, that much was certain.
Just as certain, Angelo intended to not discuss it at all. I did not even attempt to draw the conversation around and simply accepted the espresso he made for me, post-shower.
If I were honest with myself, which I always was, or thought I’d been, I had no desire to speak of it either. As far as I was concerned, it had been one misstep that I did not intend to take again.
“Where to today?” I asked as I sipped the coffee.
“I want to check in with some associates, and we need to consider Kowalski. If we can’t keep an eye on him, I’ll assign someone from the Family.”
I sat down my espresso harder on the table than was necessary.
“Do we really need to use your criminal networks for this?” It was a stupid question. We had no other options. Angelo did not even deign to respond.
I asked no more questions until we got into the car. “You ever gonna let me drive?”
“Not on your life,” he snorted.
* * *
His hacker associatelived in a middle-class part of Queens, the kind of area I’d grown up in. Angelo made me wait in the car while he went inside, and I wondered if this “associate” was really just some teenager in a basement.
I felt wrecked. The whole day I had not been able to really wake up. It wasn’t just the lack of sleep, it was the effort of trying to pretend last night hadn’t happened. Trying not to think about it.
About what it meant.
Angelo saw the weariness in my face as he got back into the car. “Should I drop you home so you can have a nap?”
