And then I had to leave town.
Taking Miller with me was out of the question. I was too dangerous to be around, a walking, talking, ticking time bomb. I’d eliminate the threat against him, ensure his safety. And then I’d lead the trail away from him, let the Castellanis come after me. I’d nail the old boards back over my heart, let it slip back into hibernation. My real mistake had been letting that heart wake up in the first place.
Not withmyjob.
Not withmypast.
Miller’s hair tickled my nose and I breathed him in, determined to remember each moment with him.
“You should be asleep by now,” he said.
“So should you.”
“Then let’s relax.”
I let him climb on top of me and kiss me, nestle his cock against mine and grind down on me until I was hard. I reached down between us, stroking us together in one hand, rubbing my thumb around the curve of Miller’s silky tip, letting our combined slickness smooth the way. I worked him until he was panting. Begging.
“Come on then, sweetheart,” I told him. “Make a mess on me.”
He arched above me, fucking into my hand with sudden urgency, and I felt the warm flood when it came, used his cum to coat my cock as I kept stroking myself. And then, in maybe the most erotic moment of my life so far, he burrowed down under those cheap motel sheets to lick it all off and give me a luxurious, extended sucking. When I came, I felt like all my problems were draining out of me as well, dissipating across his tongue, swallowed into nothingness.
I was quiet in the aftermath, a reverent hush as I let the feelings wash over me, the feelings I’d been trying to keep at bay since the first moment I’d laid eyes on Miller Beaumont.
“You happy, Boyfriend?” he yawned, fighting his way up from under the sheets to flop next to me again, pull my arms around him.
“Ecstatic,” I told him.
And I really was.
I loved him. God damn it all to hell, Ilovedhim.
We Jacopos only ever got one shot at love, my father had once told me. You won’t give a damn about anyone until suddenly you do, and that’ll be it. Forever. Even if they leave, even if they die. You’ll still love them, and you can try with someone else, even make it work for a while, but it won’t be the same.
One shot at love, Johnny. It’s just the way things are for us Jacopos.
He’d been three-fifths deep in a bottle of tequila. He’d never talked much about my mother, except to tell me she was a showgirl, and that he’d loved her from the moment he saw her.
She was on stage in a show that he was attending for work, and the second he saw her…
Dead shot, straight to the heart.
One minute he was scanning the room for his mark, and the next he couldn’t take his eyes off my mother, dancing in the chorus line.
Out of respect for her, he waited until after the show to take care of business. A week later, unable to get her out of his mind, he’d waited at the stage door to ask her to dinner.
That story had terrified me. I’d sworn then and there that I’d never lose my heart, not like my silly old dad. I wassureit would never be like that for me. The closest I’d come was letting sentimentality get in the way when Sonny Vegas had wanted some lowly showgirl removed. Out of respect for the mother I’d never known, and some crazy nostalgia for my father’s adoration of her, I’d tipped off the showgirl instead of taking her out.
A mistake born from my father’s nonsense, I thought at the time.
Only now I knew itwasn’tnonsense. He’d been right, my old man. It had happened to me just like he’d said it would.
Miller Beaumont wasit. He wasthe one. He was the only thing I wanted,wouldwant, for the rest of my time.
My throat got tight thinking about it, and I squeezed him a little hard, woke him from a light doze.
“Are you really okay?” he murmured.
“Perfect,” I told him quickly, kissing him again. “I’m perfect, sweetheart.”
