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Stepping closer, I moved in until only a few centimeters separated us. Our chests were almost touching, and I could feel the heat coming off his big frame. I pitched my voice low and soft. “You’re wrong, Alessio. It very much mattered to me that night. I wanted it to be you. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”
I heard his quick intake of breath. I kept talking, curious to see how far this would go. “When you waited to swallow my come? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He licked his lips, but said nothing.
My pulse pounded in every part of my body. He was so close I could count his eyelashes. I cataloged each whisker he’d yet to shave off and dragged my gaze over the jagged edges of his scar. The air between us turned heavy with expectation, like we were both waiting for the other to do something.
Silence stretched. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, so I decided to push him even further.
“Would you like to suck my cock again, Alessio?”
The words were less a question and more an invitation. There was no way he missed it, either. I could see the indecision, the tension inside him, as he contemplated it. Pupils blown with lust, he curled his hands into fists at his side.
Finally, he pressed his lips together and shook his head once.
Satisfaction flooded me. I didn’t bother suppressing my smile as I eased past him. “Liar.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alessio
The cold wind slapped my face as I headed down the mountain. It felt deserved, like nature was punishing me for my stupidity.
“Would you like to suck my cock again, Alessio?”
Worse than being attracted to my target? Having him recognize it and use it against me.
Failure sank in my belly, mixing with the anger to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I was an idiot. I never should have let Giulio see me in Málaga. He and his whole family were bad luck for me.
This time I didn’t try to keep up with him as we ran. Hopefully, he would disappear to the farmhouse and I could get my head on straight.
Two days. The ferry returned the day after tomorrow, by which time Giulio needed to be dead. I had to sort this out quickly. Then I could leave Scotland and keep busy with other jobs.
When I reached the bottom, there was no one around. Only rolling hills and craggy rocks. As I started for town, I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed.
“Is it done?” Sasha asked instead of a greeting.
“It will be. I’ll be on the next ferry in two days.”
“Thank fucking God,” she said in her heavy Russian accent. “I am so bored.”
“I apologize for not providing you with enough entertainment.”
“Has been almost three months. Is a long time for you.” She paused. “Should I update D’Agostino? I have not talked to his people since Málaga.”
“No.” The less contact with D’Agostino, the better. “You can update him when it’s done and get the rest of the payment.”
I disconnected and kept walking. I rolled my shoulders and tried to shake off the portentous feeling clinging to my skin.
By the time I reached Mrs. Campbell’s pub I was calmer. Tomorrow, I’d finish what I came here to do and disappear. All of this would be a terrible memory.
The pub sat empty. Not surprising at this early hour. I reached behind the bar for a glass, then poured myself a lager from the tap. Mrs. Campbell could add it to my bill. I sat down on one of the stools and took a long drink.
Mrs. Campbell appeared from the storage room in the back. She had a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other. “Och, it’s just you.”
I lifted my chin in greeting. She went behind the bar and set her things down. Then she eyed my glass. “Bit early in the day, isn’t it?”
“It’s breakfast.”
