“So defensive,” Marco continues with the teasing.
“I’ve learned that what seems abhorrent at first can gradually becomepalatableas the world shifts around.” Seb is looking straight at Marco.
Yeah, I remember when Marco couldn’t stand Fly. And look at him now—hook, line, and sinker. Wait, is Seb hinting at me being in the same situation? Because that would be way fucking off. I dump the cigar into the tall ashtray and cross my arms in front of my chest, rejecting the inane thought first with my body, then with my words.
“I hate Enzino, all of them. That will never change.”
I’ve always been looking backward more than forward. My memories force me to relive the past. And it’s that past that shaped my present. I can’t move forward without closure, and the only way to have it is to kill all the people responsible for my parents’ deaths. But after seeing how Fly is attached to that Enzino, I can’t just off him. So what else can I do? To vent my fury, to make him suffer, to destroy him?
“Hate,” Seb repeats. “Interesting feeling.” He doesn’t add anything else. As cryptic as always.
“Art is certainly more annoying than most people,” Marco says. “He has Fly’s interest at heart, at least he did until tonight. Havefunwith him.”
Like I’d need his fucking blessing to fuck someone up.
“I still want him alive. You should, too. The bait idea you suggested the other day sounds concrete to me. Mario is back in New York, is he not? If Jack Enzino is hiding him, he has to answer for that. Two birds for you.” Seb gives me a knowing gaze before he walks to the club’s door. Akira and River are waiting for us at the table.
“Ten minutes after they arrive,” he reminds us before slipping inside.
Marco nods, checking the tracker app on his phone for the umpteenth time. “You could off both Jack and Mario at the same fucking time if the fucker is hiding him.”
I feel a rush of excitement at the thought.
“Unless you change your mind after dicking Art’s ass.” He smirks. I feel a wave of red anger coming down on me. His arrogant face needs some work done.
I take a menacing step toward him. My patience has run out, and now I want to see blood. A dustup will do—Marco is always good for it. I’m about to take off my jacket when he lets me know that Fly and Enzino are in the club.
Ten minutes starting now.
Spending them hearing Marco mutter sex-related punishments is out of the question—Fly has his hands full with this one. So I deliver a surprise right hook to his stomach—wham—enjoying the way he bends over and grunts, and then make my way inside the club—ignoring Marco’s coughing laugh. Asshole.
The music is a little loud, but catchy, and the club is upscale but surprisingly laid-back at the same time. Enzino knows how to lure people in. A woman starts rubbing against me, all sultry smiles and tempting moves as I walk through the groups of people on the dance floor, but my focus is on getting my hands on a certain twink. And as if I summoned him, I look up, and there he is, sitting at a table in the VIP area near Fly. Why do I feel such relief at seeing him? So fucking irritating. He’s drinking from his flute and laughing away…at me? I want to hold his neck and squeeze.
Six minutes.
I keep the woman against me to blend in with the other people dancing. She seems happy to shake her ass against my dick while I watch Enzino patting his dog. He matched one of my fucking button-up shirts with the shortest jean skirt I’ve ever seen. Why the fuck does he insist on using my clothes when I gave him his? On his slim frame, they look huge, sliding off his shoulder, showing that pale skin. Seeing him in them is an exercise in torture. He’s a hurricane, relentless, uncaring of anything but himself, and tonight I’m going to punish him—hard.
He suddenly stands up and leaves the table, alone. He descends the long stairs out of the VIP area, showing his high heels and fishnet stockings. My half-hard cock jerks against my thigh as my eyes continue to follow him. If I said it was because of the woman plastered against me, I’d be lying. Although I’m enjoying having her tits pressed against my side, it’s Enzino’s sweet ass swaying in front of me as he walks away that is turning me on. Is this a new fetish of mine, fantasizing about dominating men wearing my clothes?
I leave the woman on the dance floor to follow him. He’s looking around…for someone? Did he arrange a meeting? Is he trying to slip away? Too bad for him, I’m here now. When his eyes find mine, though, he doesn’t look afraid or nervous—quite the opposite. At first, they widen in surprise, but then he smirks at me and moves toward adoor. He types a code on the keypad on the wall and turns around to check I’m following him, before disappearing behind it. I get there just in time to stop it from closing and follow the sounds of his high heels down the corridor and to a silver staircase. I get a glimpse of his tight butt entering a room at the end of it.
Hand on my gun, I follow, anger and anticipation whirling inside me. I feel like a predator about to savor its prey. The door at the top is ajar. The sign on it saysOffice. I slowly push it open and take a step inside.
A sofa, bookshelves, a large desk, and Enzino in the middle of the room, facing me alone. The office smells like him, like juicy apples I want to bite into under the sun. How the fuck is he making me picture this?
He is nibbling his lower lip with an eager twinkle in his eyes.
“Shouldn’t the sign on the door readfuck room?” I taunt him, glancing around the office. My men already checked all his clubs and didn’t find anything of use.
He puckers his lips, pretending to think about it. “I do enjoy being manhandled and ridden…hard, but I don’t mix business and pleasure.” The tip of his tongue comes out between his teeth.
Jesus, he’s a fucking minx.
“This is actually my office, and I have to ask you to leave,”he boldly adds.
Truth or lie, I have no reason to be bothered since I’ll be the first one to destroy him in here. His lithe body succumbing to me is going to be my fucking prize. Fuck, I like that.
“That desk looks sturdy enough for a scratch-an-itch,” I say, dismissing his last statement. I take two steps forward.
