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Left panting and spent, he swallowed hard and watched Vitari rising from his knees, wiping his mouth. “Sin has never tasted so good,” Vitari said.
They made love again later, on the deck outside in the warm Caribbean air, under the stars, slower, with Vitari reeling off strings of beautiful Italian as he worshipped every inch of Francis’s body. Later, they came together again, on their knees, the lines between them blurred, lost and found. They made love in the shower, washing off cum and sticky champagne, and fell into bed, tangled as one, cocks hard, bodies ready but exhausted and sore.
Francis lay awake as the sun rose, Vitari’s hand on his cock, gently stroking, bringing that part of him to life again, even if he was too exhausted to act on it.
“How did you find me?” Vitari asked, his voice rough from lack of sleep, or from swallowing Francis’s deep.
The events of the previous day, when he’d woken to find Vitari gone, seemed like a lifetime ago. He told Vitari about Mia’s help, then meeting the formidable Miguel character in the jungle.
On hearing Miguel’s name, Vitari jolted onto an elbow, eyes wide. “Miguel Sanchez?”
Francis nodded. “Big man, had a scar at the corner of his mouth?—”
“That’s him. Miguel helped you?”
Francis studied Vitari’s face. “After I pointed your gun at him.”
Vitari blinked, perhaps even paled a little. “You did what?” He swallowed. “Francis, you have no idea who he was, do you?”
“Not really. He knew you though.”
Vitari grinned. “Miguel Sanchez is—was the king of the Colombian drug trade, you know, as big and brutal as Escobar.”
“Escobar?”
Vitari snorted. “Fuck, you’re adorable. You really threatened him?”
It seemed as though this Miguel Sanchez was more dangerous than he’d appeared to be, and he hadn’t exactly been all sweetness and light during their meeting either. “It was a stressful situation. I had the gun, and nobody was listening to me.”
“Funny isn’t it, how people start listening when you point a gun at them.” Vitari rolled onto his back, absolutely naked, hard, and unashamedly on display. “He could easily have killed you.”
“But he didn’t.” Francis shrugged. “He was… reasonable.”
“The fucker’s probably bored. Old blood don’t retire. Natural selection, you know? Most get killed off. I bet he’s going out of his mind hidden away in a shack like that. He wasn’t expecting you. Padre Blanco.” Vitari chuckled, but then his face turned pensive. “You got lucky.”
Francis wasn’t sure it was luck. He’d threatened a drug lord. And he’d have pulled the trigger to save Vitari. He dropped his head back and blinked at the cabin’s ceiling. “What is old blood?”
“Like my father. That generation, when shit was done differently. Half the business now is balancing spreadsheets and doctoring shipping manifests. Giancarlo, Little Toni, half the capos, they’re a dying breed. Sasha got that right…” Vitari said softly, as though to himself.
Since he’d brought up his father, now might be a good time to mention how Francis had been in touch with Giancarlo, and how not everything was as lost as Vitari believed it to be. He’d been putting it off, because when it came to his father, Vitari was volatile, but after he got angry, he’d see the good behind Francis’s intentions. He just needed to know not all the Mafia were out to get him. Maybe.
Francis rolled onto his side and laid his arm over Vitari’s chest, then teased around a nipple and watched goose bumps scatter across Vitari’s skin. He propped his chin on his chest. “Don’t get mad…”
Vitari looked down and arched an eyebrow. “Why am I not getting mad?”
“I did something… a while ago now, and it probably doesn’t change much.”
“Fuck. What is it?”
“It’s not… bad.” He’d begun to explain, so now he had to finish. It was time anyway. It hadn’t felt right, not telling Vitari. “When we first arrived in Panama, after leaving England, there was a lot going on, remember?”
Vitari scooted back and sat up against the headboard, making Francis sit up. “Just say it.”
“I called Giancarlo.”
Vitari’s smile twitched. “You what?”
“It was real quick, just a few minutes. There wasn’t much time, my phone battery died?—”
