Page 98 of Fallen Rook

I understood where she was coming from. Money was the poor man’s substitution for love, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I stared at my phone, feeling helpless and on edge. After a while, I heard the trunk pop open and the rustling of paper bags. Tom reemerged, smelling like winter.

We drove to his friend’s place in silence.

Chapter Thirty

Tom

Something was wrong with Enzo, and I didn’t know what it was.

He tried to hide it, forever the happy-go-lucky guy, but I could see it in the way his eyes dimmed, and how he absentmindedly chewed on his inner cheek. He was scratching at his arm, too. The same scarred spot he picked at often, like it was the edge of an envelope.

Zeke’s lakefront house was perfect, for all intents and purposes. It was framed by thick woods, miles away from civilization. It had three bedrooms, a gourmet outdoor kitchen, a Jacuzzi, and a fuckload of rustic charm. But as Enzo took all of it in, I could already sense him slipping away from me.

“You all right, kid?” I led us to the largest guest room, unzipping my duffel on the bed.

“Yup. Fine.” He grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging. “Everything’s peachy.”

I stopped what I was doing and gave him a flat stare.

“Sorry, I’m just…”

I watched him, waiting.

“It just sucks that I—we—will always have to do this.” He gestured toward the house. “Hide. Like little rabbits.”

“You mean mice. Rabbits are known for something else. Hopefully we’ll do that frequently, too.”

His ears pinked, and he gave me an embarrassed shove.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I think we did enough talking for today.”

With two purposeful strides, he cornered me to the wall using the sheer size of his magnificent body, his lips latching on to mine. Our tongues met, battling for ground and dominance. He pressed his hips to mine. I impulsively ran my fingers down his biceps, toward his forearms, tracing every veiny, muscular inch of flesh. I’d been with men before. Been with some seriously fit ones, too. I’d never had someone quite as perfect as Enzo, though.

After a slow descent down his corded arms, this time I didn’t stop when I reached his wrists. I touched the jagged, scarred flesh. He whimpered into my mouth, the sound animalistic and pained, but didn’t jerk away. He was twitching, shaking, but not withdrawing.

Progress.

I’d tired of asking him about something he didn’t want to talk about, instead giving him space, and hopefully a safe environment to talk about it when he was ready.

Unhurriedly, I threaded our fingers together, pulling his hands to my crotch. “You know what to do, Butterfly.”

“Hmmph,” he half whimpered, half moaned, working my belt off in record time and sliding my pants down. He was on his knees before I registered the kiss was over, stroking my dick with his big, callused palm before taking me down his throat. Some words left my mouth, though I doubted they were in English. When I staggered across the wall and knocked down a nightstand, Enzo chuckled around my dick. He withdrew a few inches and grabbed my root, spat on my crown, and covered my dick with saliva. Then he was back at it.

Not wanting to climax in his mouth before the main event, I tugged him back up and started peeling off our clothes until we were both naked, standing by the bed. Our mouths fused together again, hands exploring each nook and cranny of each other’s body.

“What can I do—” he mumbled into my mouth, sounding drunk and so far away. Maybe I was drunk, too, with the prospect of having him all to myself for a weekend.

“Anything, Enzo,” I growled. “You can do fucking anything you want to me.”

He circled my rim with the tip of his finger teasingly, and I let it happen for an unfathomable reason. I flicked my tongue against his, an official warning he was about to cross an invisible line.

It did feel good, though. Everything he did with his hands felt divine.

“I know what I want for my birthday.” His lips moved over mine. His birthday was three weeks ago, but we hadn’t celebrated together. I was careful not to mention it, not to scare him off.