AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Maybeit wasn’t, maybe he’s just lying through his teeth to fuck with us.” Dante ran his hands through his hair. “There just seems to be so much going on, and the fucker who shot me tonight called me apig whore.”
“Okaay, so that’s creative and also excessive.”
“I admit, it’s something I haven’t heard in a while. He used English, but it’s more common in Italian—porca puttana, pig whore.It was Lu’s favorite thing to call me when we were kids. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if the two at the house tonight were sent by my loving older brother.”
“Woods is not an Italian name. And while pig whore is creative, anyone could use it.”
“Meh, Woods’s family name doesn’t matter these days, which I’m sure you know. I’m curious to see who shows up to represent him. I think then we’ll have a better idea of who hired him.”
“I’m pissed the other guy got away,” André said as he got up, rinsed out his cup, and set it in the sink. “He was fast and seemed to know where he was headed. The exploding sedan didn’t faze him.”
Dante finished his drink and brought the cup over to André. Suddenly, he was exhausted. The stove clock claimed it was almost two in the morning.
“Let’s go lay down for a while,” he said, running his hand down André’s strong back and letting it rest at the top of his ass.
A little grin twitched Dante’s lips as André turned off the water and turned to him.
“Are we shutting our eyes? It’s been a long-ass day, and we don’t know who’s out there.”
“I think we’ll be fine for a few hours, but I don’t plan on resting.” Whoever was after them had their work cut out for them.
Dante slipped a finger into the belt loops of André’s slacks, tugging him close enough that their foreheads touched.
“I want to take you to bed. I need to feel you against me—selfish, I know.”
André’s hand lifted to rest against Dante’s cheek. His fingers were warm, and he drew them around and underneath Dante’s chin, holding him still.
“I think we can manage that,” André whispered, closing the last inch and pressing his lips against Dante’s.
SEVENTEEN
André
The wind howled, rattling the window and doors in their frames, and the pounding rain hadn’t let up, but André had Dante in his bed. The storm couldn’t reach them, not for a few hours anyway. Between the two of them and Luna, they would keep Daniella safe. He should’ve headed back to the station, but he couldn’t make himself. He had a visceral need to make sure Dante and Dani were safe.
He needed this. They both needed this.
Dante had almost died—would have died if he hadn’t been wearing the vest—and André’s lonely life had flashed before his eyes. The worst had almost happened. They had dangerous jobs and there was always a chance of one of them not coming home. But it was a risk André was willing to take.
“I want to tell you something about my past.”
They’d stripped without turning on the bedside lamp. But that only meant that the diffuse glow from the streetlight limned Dante’s form, accentuating his natural muscle, his deep chest, the strong lines of his shoulders. André was planning on mapping out every dip and curve of him.
Before they got busy, André retrieved the lube from the bedside table. He ignored the box of condoms.
“Now?” Dante traced a finger around André’s bare nipple before heading downward toward his bobbing erection.
“Tonight. Or before we get up again, anyway.”
“Okay,” Dante agreed, gently nudging him toward the bed.
Smiling, André crawled onto the mattress and positioned himself on his back. Over the course of their time together, they’d switched things up. But if he was being honest, he generally preferred it when Dante took charge.
“Fuck me.” Not a question.
“Damn fucking straight,” Dante declared. “Or not.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t supreme gentleness. Dante slipped under the covers next to André, tucking himself in close. In the warm dark, they began to run their hands down, across, and over each other’s bodies as if relearning each other.
