He laughed then, loud and with an edge of contempt. “You want to analyze the way I fuck, now?”
“That’s not what I’m—”
“Fine,” he said, and his arm snaked around my waist. He pulled me sharply close so that I let out a gasp of surprise, and his legs entwined with mine. “Fine, kid.”
I couldn’t reply, because his tongue had found its way into my mouth, and his hand ran up the back of my neck, into my hair, gentle and careful in a way that made me shiver with desire.
None of this feltright, not entirely. He kissed with passion, but almost too much. His hands were careful and demanding in turns as they ran over me, almost as though he couldn’t make up his mind about how to act. Perhaps that was it—it seemed to me that he was acting, pretending.
But he was no less seductive for it.
He rolled me over beneath him, teeth tugging at my lower lip. “Wait,” I said, breaking away from the kiss, and he stopped immediately. I put my hand to his face, running my palm across his unshaven jaw. “If we’re doing this, don’t hold back.”
“I don’t plan to, kid,” he muttered, and ground against me so I could feel his excitement.
“Not that,” I said, but I chuckled. “I mean, yes, that, but also…”
He propped himself up on one elbow and I could feel his gaze even in the dark. “You tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
“I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel last time,” I murmured against his mouth. I ran a hand down his body, combing into his bush. “There’s no shame in that, is there?” He gave a small jerk, as though fighting his own instincts.
“I can’t argue with that,” he said almost grudgingly, breaking away to kiss down my neck. I took his cock into my hand, and he took mine into his. I felt a thrill run through me—my first orgasm with another guy had happened like this, a mutual jerk-off session, and it had been one of the most erotic moments of my life.
This moment was right up there, rocketing on through to number one as Angelo began to stroke me. I leaned in to kiss him as he started jacking me in earnest, with a slow but firm pace that made my toes curl, and all the while his tongue was exploring my mouth.
I followed his lead and gripped his dick as tight as I would my own, began to tug at him. I knew I’d found the right rhythm when he gave a soft sigh of approval. He wrapped his leg around my waist, allowing my hand more freedom, and we played with each other like that, our slick wet kissing noises getting faster and more urgent as our hands sped up. I rocked hard into his fist, felt the prickling build through my cock, felt the muscles clench tight in my ass, my feet, my shoulders. I could tell it was going to be a hell of an orgasm, but I wanted to make sure his was just as good.
I sucked his tongue the same way he’d been doing to mine and moaned into his mouth. I felt his cock swelling, growing even harder in my tight fingers, and I whispered encouragement to him,Come on, come for me, get me all wet— He let out a long, choking groan and did just that, shooting his load between us, hot and slippery.
Feeling it, smelling it on the hot humid air between us, spurred me on. I fucked into his fingers, almost begging for relief, until it hit me hard as it ever had before. My orgasm dragged itself up from deep in my balls, surged through my cock and drenched him, left me gasping around his tongue.
He even stayed there cuddling with me for a little while after, which I appreciated. I liked cuddling after sex.
“This is nice,” I murmured after a while.
“You think?”
“Don’t you?” I countered. “Whatever. I like it, anyway. And that was incredible, you can’t deny that. I think we’re pretty damn good at jacking each other off. Maybe we should do it more often.”
“I know three little words that will make you rethink that.”
My eyes went wide, and I was relieved then that he couldn’t see my face. “Three words?”
“FBI Special Agent.”
He was right. Three little words that struck like a stiletto into my heart, sliced right through me. What the hell was I doing, lying there with a mobster, covered in his spunk?
I got up without replying and headed to the bathroom, where I wiped myself down and washed my hands. I decided I should at least be as courteous as he had been the night before, so I brought back another towel for him when I returned to bed. He took it without thanks, and when he was done cleaning my mess off him, he threw it on the floor, lay down, and turned his back to me.
After a second, I got back into the bed. No point being uncomfortable on the couch.
“Angelo,” I said before I fell asleep.
I thought he wouldn’t reply, but at last he did. “What is it?”
“It’s one of the Clemenza guys, Donnie Greco. He fits the profile for the killer.” Greco was an experienced Enforcer with a Clemenza crew, the silent-and-violent type who was more inclined to use a gun than words when someone stepped out of line. The kind of man who might come to trust his own judgment over that of his superiors, take matters into his own hands. “We could stake him out. He lives in Brooklyn. I know you wanted to watch Kowalski, but…”
Angelo was quiet. I could have explained all my reasoning to him, gone through my intuitive leaps one by one and given specific evidence for how I’d made them, but in the end he just turned over in the bed. “I’ll set it up tomorrow,” he said.
