As soon as he sags, I drop the knife to the floor. My fingers, still wet from his saliva, run through the smear of blood before I reach for my cock, tugging myself frantically until I’m tensing up and spraying cum over his chest. My cock is still dripping as I swipe up the cum to mix with the blood and shove that back into his mouth, watching him suck the mixture eagerly from my fingers before he goes back to softly panting.
For half a second, I feel truly, genuinely relaxed. But then something close to panic sets in, and I extricate myself from this position as quickly as possible, before I can get any more drunk off his stupid dick.
I run to the shower to rinse off, walk back in to get my clothes and toss a damp towel to my lover so he can clean himself up.
If I took the time to make sure it was nice warm water, not cold, no one needs to know.
“What time is it?” Colm asks, like his awareness of the world has come back to him for the first time since I woke him up. He grabs the towel and starts cleaning up, moving slowly in the dim light.
I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand.
“A little after three. Why? Are you angry that I interrupted your beauty sleep?”
Colm shakes his head and huffs a little bit but doesn’t snark back. Instead, he focuses on heaving himself out of bed with great effort and fishing around for his underwear. The wet towel gets thrown somewhere to the side.
“You couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
I shrug, even though he’s very carefully not looking at me.
“How am I supposed to sleep when there’s a four-course meal sprawled out on the other side of the room?”
Colm pauses, his head tilted as he probably searches for a hidden insult in the sentence. But there’s none there. I didn’t mean it to come out like that, but I didmeanit.
I think I’m looking convincingly smug, keeping all this unease and discontent from my face, but when his expression tenses, I realize I might have failed.
“Are you okay?”
It’s simple. I can give him a simple answer, and he won’t push back. But the fact that he asked, let alone noticed that I might not be okay, is surprising in and of itself.
I can’t quite bring myself to lie. But I don’t know what I would say, otherwise.
I settle on a nod, holding his gaze.
“You really are sweet, you know. It’s disappointing.”
It’s impossible not to smile a little as I say it, but I’m rewarded by nothing less than Colm—big hunky mafia Colm—fucking blushing.
Delicious.
“Don’t say shit like that around the guys, okay? It’s not like they respect me much to begin with.”
The fact that he’s not even really denying it just proves he’s too sweet for this job. He’s even giving me a little half smile that matches my own. I want to wipe the expression off my face, but I can’t seem to.
Everything else in the world seems far away right now. No mafia, no murder, just Colm and I staring at each other like two dumb, love-struck puppies in the moonlight.
Disgusting. Absolutely not something I can allow to continue.
I open my mouth to tell him… something. Something to that effect. But before any sound comes out, I hear a noise outside the window. What the fuck is that?
Colm’s smile falls as he frowns at me.
“What?” he mouths, suddenly on high alert.
“Get down!”
I barely have time to drop to the ground before the window explodes next to me, and the room is filled with bullets and broken glass.
Chapter Eleven
