“I said,” he snickered breathlessly, “you told me you wanted to blow the Boss-Man, but what I ended up with was an assful of cum leaking all over my goddamn desk.”
“Yeah? Well, enjoy it.” I was almost glad of the excuse to withdraw, hissing as I pulled out, over-sensitive and tender. I pulled up my pants. Whatever we’d just done, it hadn’tjustbeen the sexy interlude I’d meant it to be.
I was too raw, somewhere within me. Too anxious.
Finch pouted at me, first playful, then with an edge of annoyance. “No fucking way,” he puffed. “You get me all worked up and now, what, you’re just gonna zip your fucking Armani over your dirty cock and—”
I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and gave him one long, twisting stroke, rubbing my thumb into the V of his cockhead. Finch arched up into it, mouth open, eyes fluttering closed.
I leaned over him, “You really think I’d leave you high and dry—or, should I say, hard and dripping?” I said into his ear. “You should know me better by now, husband.” I reached behind me with my other hand to pull up his leather chair. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch me sit on the edge of the seat, and then his head fell back and he groaned as I took his cock back into my mouth.
He wrapped his legs around my neck, pulling me closer, fucking into my mouth, and I let him take his pleasure like that, the thrust of his hips becoming more and more erratic the closer he got. I looked up at him, watched him watching me for just a few seconds before he collapsed back down on the desk, gripped the edge of it tight, and let go. My mouth filled up in long, delicious spurts, Finch’s hips jerking again as I milked him through it and then sucked his softening cock down again until he begged for mercy.
In our dual post-orgasmic haze I felt alittlebad for using sex to distract Finch. And a little concerned about my own reaction during our love games. But the point was, it worked. He didn’t bring up the bodyguard issue again that night, nor for some time after.
And I got to keep watching over him as closely as I wanted to.
As Ineededto.
Chapter Six
FINCH
Now
“Iwonder—perhaps we could get a better mattress for the camp bed?” Aidan is murmuring outside the door, but it’s cracked open enough that I can hear him still.
“I’ll speak to them about it,” a female voice replies, as hushed as he is. It’s Darla, I think. It would make sense if it were her. She’s always had a soft spot for me, since back when Connie was in this same room, and we started making huge donations to the hospital.
Now it’s Luca lying there in the bed like Connie was for so long. In a coma, just like Connie was for so long.
Before she died.
Luca still hasn’t woken up. After more scans and tests, I’ve been told, yet again, that it’s a waiting game, that he’ll wake up on his own when he’s ready.
I wish he’d hurry the fuck up.
I pull up the arm of his hospital gown and trace my fingers over his finch tattoo, over the jagged, raised, white scar tissue that the bird stands on, remembering that night I stitched him up myself. Thefirstnight. I gave him that scar with my shitty sewing skills, but he’s always laughed about it. Cherished it. Made it into a symbol of our love.
He’ll have more scars now, all over his body. And I feel like all of those new scars are my fault, too.
I stand up to stretch, my back cracking as I arch it and give a sigh of mingled pain and relief. Aidan slides back into the room, his eyes straying to Luca on the bed before coming back to me. “Do you want to take a shower, maybe get some food? I’ll stay with him.”
I want to tell Aidan no, but if I tell him no, there will just be more suggestions designed to get me out of the room, which means more conversation, and I want that even less than I want to step out of the room a minute. Besides, I do need to stretch my legs. “I’ll go get a coffee, then I’ll come back. You want anything?”
Every so often I make these concessions, just to beat back the feeling I have that if I ever leave his side, Luca won’t be waiting for me when I get back. That he’ll slip away from me while I’m out of the room.
But thinking like that won’t help anything, and so every three or four times Aidan suggests it, I leave him there with Luca, and I pretend that I can still function like a human being.
Outside the room, two members of Nick Fontana’s old crew are standing around; they must be Luca’s guards for the day. They each give me a nod. “No change,” I tell them, because although they’d never ask, they still want to know, are anxious for any information, even the status quo.
Gio Carlucci is there as well, but he’s waiting forme. Not to talk—just to shadow me. I give him a nod, and he follows me at a slight distance as I set off down the hallway. He’s further back than he usually would be, but he seems to know I need my space.
There’s a coffee machine in a corridor just off the ward, but it only serves asswater. I take the time to go all the way downstairs to the café instead, and order a trayful of options. On my way back, I’ll hand them out to the ward staff, and to the guards watching over Luca like dark angels, keeping everyone sweet—not to mention caffeinated and alert.
Another attack is coming. I can feel it in my guts, a twisting certainty.
Nick’s tried to pretend to our enemies that everything is just fine, but it’s hard to keep something like this quiet. Luca has never been more vulnerable than he is now, and there are plenty of people all over town who would love to take advantage of that fact.
