Page 9 of Point of Contact

Laughing and chattering in a mixture of Italian and English, the group made their way toward the center of Vicenza. Farmers’ market by day, at night the town square rang with the sounds of buskers and conversation. A couple of people made a liquor run to a nearby bar, and soon the alcohol was free-flowing again.

Jesse moved around the fringes of the group, talking, drinking, until he found himself not far from the man, who was dressed in a black shirt unbuttoned halfway to show a smooth chest with nice pecs. His hair was long, brushing his collar, and it looked silky to the touch. A dark stubble shadowed his square jaw, his lips sexy and full. In short, he was hot as hell, and Jesse couldn’t wait to get his hands on him.

The man sidled closer, until they were both standing at one of the small bistro tables dotting the square. Everyone had split off into casual little groups by now. Riley was leaning against a wrought-iron railing nearby with his girl plastered against him, his hands roaming over her hips and ass as they gave each other lazy kisses and talked with the people around them.

“My sister, she likes him,” the man murmured, nodding toward the couple. “They will have a good time tonight, yes?”

Jesse snorted. “I used to share a room with that dude, and I can tell you that girls definitely had a screaming good time with him.” He winced. Brain-to-mouth filter not engaged, idiot! Not the most diplomatic thing to say to someone’s brother, that your sister was one of many visitors to a man’s bed.

But the dark-eyed man laughed. “Good. That’s all Carlotta is looking for tonight, a ‘screaming good time,’” he said. “She’s mad at her lover, and wants to get back at him. Your friend, he make her scream tonight, and forget her troubles, she’ll be happy.”

Jesse shook his head in amusement. “No worries on that score.”

They fell silent and sipped their drinks, and the man took half a step closer. “My name is Pietro.”

Jesse swallowed hard. “You can call me Jess,” he rasped, shifting from foot to foot as arousal burned through him and his cock swelled in his jeans.

Pietro hummed. “If you want, I know a place we can go—to get some more wine.”

Jesse appreciated the guy’s discretion with all the potential listening ears around. “Good. I’m running low, gonna need it soon.”

Pietro’s eyes held some serious heat. “What kind do you think you’ll want?”

A busker wandered by, his saxophone soulful and loud, and Jesse took advantage of the distraction and noise cover, leaning toward Pietro, his elbows on the table. “You on your knees,” he growled. “Making me come. Hard and fast.”

Pietro licked his lips, and Jesse stared at them, at the plumpness, the pink velvet of Pietro’s tongue, wanting to feel them both wrapped around his aching cock.

“Yes,” Pietro hissed, stepping back away as the musician moved off. Jesse glanced at Pietro’s crotch, noticing a thick bulge there before Pietro gave himself a casual adjustment and moved closer to the table to hide it.

It was agony for Jesse to have to wait, to act like he was just here to drink with his buddies. He laughed too loud, and made drunk, obnoxious catcalls every now and then to women who walked by, even as he hated himself for it. A blonde American girl out with a group of friends stopped to talk and flirt with Jesse, and after a while his arm was around her waist and her full breasts were pressed against him. He traded increasingly suggestive comments with her, all the while aware of Pietro’s slim body and amused dark eyes from across the table.

“I’ve got to go, handsome.” The girl ran her hands over Jesse’s chest and shoulders. “I have an early class. But call me?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he lied as the girl coyly produced a pen from her little bag and made a big show of writing her number on Jesse’s palm. When she was done, he tilted her chin up and gave her a light, lingering kiss, tasting strawberry lip gloss. As she walked away, she trailed her fingers down his arm.

“Don’t forget,” she said, her voice playful, and Jesse promised he wouldn’t, elation burning through him. Firm cover in place, thanks to this sweet little blonde. Nobody would ever question him now. He and the girl called goodbyes to each other, Jesse letting his eyes wander over her as she walked backward toward the street and her friends. Smitty, strolling by just then, clapped Jesse hard on the back.

“Nice,” he said with approval. “Get some, man.”

“I intend to.” He turned to Pietro.

“Wanna go make another liquor run with me?” Jesse asked loudly. “I’m sure you know where the best deals are, because in case you’re wondering, I ain’t rich.”

“Si,” Pietro replied, pushing away from the table. “I know a place a few avenues over, not far.”

Nobody paid them the least bit of attention as they strolled away, hands in their pockets. Jesse followed Pietro along the dark, crowded streets, and soon they left the throng behind as they made their way deeper into the labyrinth of the city.

Pietro walked with purposeful strides, leading Jesse into a quiet alleyway, making a couple of turns until they were in the small courtyard of what looked like an abandoned church.

Along one wall there was a small alcove with an old bench in it, as well as the remains of some candles. A praying bench? Jesse hesitated, then shrugged; beggars couldn’t be choosers, and he was damn close to begging. When Pietro entered the alcove and turned to say something to him, Jesse grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled Pietro against him, slamming his mouth down over his.

Their kiss was rough, carnal, wet...teeth clashing, tongues dueling. Jesse moaned at the arousing feel of Pietro’s stubble rasping against his cheeks. God, how stupid could he be? He shoved Pietro away, scrubbing the back of his hand over his mouth. “Shit.”

“What is it, bellissimo?” Pietro tried to insinuate himself back in Jesse’s arms. “I want more of your kisses.”

“Whisker burn.” Jesse pulled Pietro to him again but avoided his seeking mouth. “Can’t go back around the guys with swollen lips and whisker burn. How would I ever fucking explain that?”

Pietro stopped trying to kiss him and nodded, and Jesse, using his grip on the front of Pietro’s shirt, shoved him to his knees. “Besides, I have a better use for this sweet mouth.” With one hand he ripped the buttons of his jeans open, reaching inside to pull out his cock. Pietro’s eyes darkened even more, and he licked those damned lips again before peeking up at Jesse though long, thick eyelashes.