“Rome, huh? I suppose we’ll get hired on as security for the Vatican? Maybe the Pope’s personal guard?”
“I thought I’d work for a hospital. I think I’d make a decent EMT.”
From taking lives to saving them … Quite the career shift. “You don’t speak a word of Italian.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matt sporting an impish grin.
“Buongiorno! Fettucine Alfredo. Grazie. Prego.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Well, two or three of those words might be useful as an EMT.”
He turns that smiling face to me. “I can use the other two to order you a fancy dinner somewhere. Someplace nice, quiet, with a corner booth, so we can ignore the rest of the world.”
“While simultaneously watching the room for Syndicate assassins?”
He shoves my shoulder, which starts an impromptu wrestling match. By the end of it, we’re tangled in the sheets, and I’ve pinned Matt down. I gaze at him, lost in those sapphire eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, Matt. I’m with you no matter what you do.” I release one of his arms to gently stroke his cheek. “I just want to be sure this is what you really want. Once we leave the Syndicate—if we even survive leaving—there’s no coming back.”
He turns his head to kiss my palm. “Good.”
“When did you want to retire? Tomorrow? Next week?” I sit back on my heels, straddling his hips. “Should I start packing a bag?”
His smile fades. “You know we can’t take anything with us.”
“True. Anything purchased with Syndicate coin will have to stay.”
Matt yanks my arm and bucks his hips. A moment later, our positions are reversed.
“Tito paid you with Syndicate coin,” he says as he kisses the side of my neck. “I paid you with Syndicate coin.” He kisses the other side. “Does that mean I can’t take you with me when I leave?”
His face hovers over mine, just out of reach. Rather than try to stretch to meet his lips, I pull back the arm he’s holding, forcing him down.
The kiss leaves me trembling with need. My cock presses into his stomach, and his pokes me from his position between my legs. It would be the perfect vantage point if not for the fact that we’re both wearing sweats.
It could be less convenient. If we’d watched the attacks from our office, we’d be in full suits. Since we had to move to the bedroom, we opted for more comfortable attire.
Matt snakes his hand between us and grabs my shaft. “Syndicate coin fed this cock for decades. Are you saying I can’t take it with me?”
“My cock will follow you anywhere.”
“Mm …”
The next kiss ignites something deeper, more passionate. Within seconds, we’re scrambling to remove as much clothing as possible.
As soon as he yanks my pants off, Matt crawls forward, spreading and bending my legs, positioning me for his entry. He grabs the lube almost as an afterthought in his haste, smearing it on with a few rushed pumps of his hand. My cock throbs at the sight of him feverishly rubbing his veined shaft.
If this is our last night alive—and it may well be—it’s going to be amazing.
Matt sighs contentedly as he eases his cock into my ass. Each slow, sensual thrust shoves him farther inside, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through me. I cry out, arching my back and clenching around him.
“Fuck, Aron! Your ass is so fucking tight …”
I’d have a witty response, but he twists his hips as he bottoms out inside me, and I forget all language. All I have left are grunts and groans and sighs as he pumps in an easy rhythm.
Despite his haste to begin, Matt seems content to fuck me slowly, gently, exploring with his mouth and hands all the while. It’s almost too much stimulation, almost too perfect. He savors my nipples, my neck, my earlobes, teasing while he moves closer to my mouth.
Unable to wait any longer, I grab a handful of Matt’s thick, dark hair and pull his mouth to mine.
