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"W-well," he stammered, trying to keep his composure, "that depends on how intimate you're thinking."
I could suffer through another private dance,he thought.They're mortifying, but I could do it.
But the look in Enzo's eye told Joey that it wasn't a dance he was after.
"Let me make it simple for you," Enzo said smoothly, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a thick wallet. "I'm in town for one night, Joey. These days, I'm too busy for the hunt."
His thumb riffled the edge of the bills—lots of them. "I want what any man wants. It's yours if you're willing to indulge me."
Joey stared at the wallet, his heart pounding in his chest. You didn't have to be a math genius to calculate that what Enzo could offer was more than he'd made in a long time, and it could put a significant dent in his debt.
"You're a beautiful young man," Enzo said simply, his hand settling on Joey's thigh. "Let's get something from each other."
Joey hesitated. He couldn't deny that he needed the money. And worse…
He couldn't deny the loneliness and sexual frustration that had been eating at him for so long. Every day he worked in a hotbed of sexuality, stuck as an external observer to the depths of human lust, but no-one ever touched him.
Well, that wasn't quite true. The ghostly memory of Marco's fingertips on his cheek rose up inside him, rough and yet gentle…
He glanced around the club, his eyes downcast as his mind raced. "Enzo…" he began, his voice barely audible over the pounding bass of the music. "I… um, I don't know."
Enzo was clearly experienced. "Take a moment to think it over, gorgeous," he replied, leaning back in his chair and sipping from his glass. He watched the show on the stage with detached amusement. "Think about it."
Joey's mind was in turmoil as conflicting thoughts and desires battled within him. The proposition on the table offered a way to alleviate his financial burdens, a temporary escape from the harsh reality that held him captive. The longing for intimacy and connection tugged at his heartstrings, whispering temptations of a fleeting moment of physical pleasure.
He'd never had a real hookup. When he was at the coffee shop, it had been easy enough to ignore that side of him and just focus on slinging lattes. But ever since he'd been dropped into the sleazy depths of Sinsation, that side of him was getting harder and harder to ignore.
The older man exuded confidence and experience. Joey liked that—a lot. Enzo's words wove a web of possibilities in Joey's mind. A momentary escape from the burdens that weighed him down seemed tantalizingly within reach.
What would it be like, to feel someone's hands on his body? Desiring him, claiming him—needinghim?
Saying that one littleyeswould be so easy…
But just as doubt began to crumble away, his eyes caught a glimpse of Marco entering the club. A surge of emotions washed over Joey, and his heart responded with an undeniable flutter. The sight of Marco ignited a flicker of hope within him, reminding him of the untamed desires that had sparked between them before.
Marco spotted Joey. He stood, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, the fabric of his tailored suit straining to contain him. For a moment, their eyes locked, sending a shiver down Joey's spine.
And then he looked over at Joey's present company—and at Enzo's hand on Joey's thigh.
Marco's gray eyes narrowed. The usually cocky mafia member looked visibly jealous and possessive, his jaw clenched tight.
A wicked thrill shot through Joey at the sight of Marco's jealousy. It was strangely satisfying to see the powerful man so affected by him.
In that instant, Joey felt wanted.
He'd never felt that before.
Marco marched over to them, his eyes blazing with possessiveness. His hand shot out, grabbing Joey by the arm—not hard or painful, but firm.
"Hey!" Joey protested, trying to wriggle out of Marco's grip. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Let him go," Enzo said.
"Back off," Marco growled at Enzo, his threatening glare sending a shiver down the wealthy patron's spine.
The promise of violence was palpable in the air, and even a man as confident as Enzo hesitated, clearly weighing the risks and rewards of continuing to push his luck.
"Fine," Enzo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Keep your little plaything, then."
