“Can I…” Domenico lifted a hand as if he were about to reach for Sergei, but then pulled it back, hesitating like someone afraid of a potentially dangerous dog. “I’m…”
Sergei took his wrist and guided his hand to him. “You say you’ve rarely had a chance to be with a man.” He brought Domenico’s hand down on his waist, letting it rest just above his hip. “Does that mean you’re a virgin?”
“No.” Domenico stared at him for a moment, as if drinking in the sight of him for the very first time. “Definitely… definitely not a virgin. It’s just been a while.” He took a breath. “I’ve seen you naked once already, but it’s different this time.” He met Sergei’s eyes. “I can touch you all I want.” He tensed a little. “Right?”
Please do. Sergei licked his lips. “Yes.”
Most men would have gone straight for Sergei’s cock, or done some clumsy groping. Domenico was apparently not most men—the first thing he did was run the backs of his fingers down the center of Sergei’s chest. Creases formed between his eyebrows as he watched his hand drift down Sergei’s abs, and when the vaguely ticklish touch made Sergei’s muscles contract, Domenico pushed out a ragged breath.
He turned his hand over as he brought it back up, and this time, went all the way to the back of Sergei’s neck. For a split second, Sergei’s defenses surged up—that strong hand was too close to his throat—but Domenico changed direction and traced the length of his arm instead.
Sergei swallowed. “You said it’s been a while.”
Domenico nodded.
“How long is a while?”
“Too long.” Domenico met his gaze. “We both know what I am. Men like me aren’t gay. Not if they want to survive.”
Sergei nodded. “So I’ve heard. But… you are.”
Domenico nodded, his gaze drifting to Sergei’s erection. “Very.”
“That makes two of us.” Sergei stepped closer and ran his hand over the very prominent bulge in Domenico’s trousers, making the man gasp and squeeze his eyes shut. Sergei grinned. “But now you’ve seen me naked twice, and you still haven’t shown me anything, Domenico.”
Domenico flinched. He opened his eyes. “Just call me Dom.”
“Okay. Dom.” Sergei swept his tongue across his lips. “You haven’t shown me anything.” He lifted his hand away, and Domenico—Dom—tensed as if Sergei had smacked him. Speaking softly, Sergei said, “Let me see what you’re hiding under your suit.”
Dom hesitated. His Adam’s apple bobbed above his collar. Then he unbuttoned the collar. The next button. The one below that.
Sergei stepped back. He closed his fingers around his own cock and started stroking.
Dom’s lips parted. He fumbled with the next button, gaze fixed on Sergei’s dick while his motor skills seemed deteriorate a little more every time Sergei’s hand crested the head of his cock. Maybe it was the sight of a naked, aroused man, or maybe the realization that he was going to be able to do more than just look—whatever the case, Dom couldn’t have faked that level of distraction if he’d tried.
And that turned Sergei on something fierce. Reducing a client to a blubbering mess was part of his job. He was paid to tease them until they couldn’t see straight.
This was a man who knew he was going to have sex with Sergei tonight, and he was so nervous, turned on, excited that he couldn’t even work the buttons of a shirt he’d likely worn a million times.
“Am I distracting you?” Sergei asked.
“Just a little.” Dom cleared his throat and looked down, focusing on undoing the buttons instead of staring at Sergei’s cock. Once the buttons were undone, he took off one cufflink, then the other. Watching that fucked with Sergei’s head almost as much as his strokes had fucked with Dom’s—well-dressed men turned him on, and the little details made him dizzy. Cufflinks especially.
Dom took off his shirt and undershirt.
Sergei gulped. Holy fuck. There were men in this town who were just good racks for expensive suits. The suits made them irresistible, but as soon as they were off, Sergei’s erection was gone and so was he.
Dom was not one of those guys. He wore his Sicilian genes as well as he wore Armani, and a body like that would’ve been just as hot in a skintight wife beater. Tan skin. Muscles that didn’t quit. Enough dark hair to make sure Sergei hadn’t forgotten Dom was every bit a man.
And as Dom stripped out of his trousers and slipped off his boxers… yeah, Sergei could see why he’d picked up some Magnum condoms. Apparently small dicks weren’t mandatory for Maisanos after all.
Dom put the last of his clothes aside, and faced Sergei. With a note of nervous laughter in his voice, he held out his arms. “Well? Like what you see?”
Sergei laughed. He stepped closer and ran his hands up Dom’s bare chest, sliding his fingers through the thin hair. “I do like what I see.”
“Good.” Dom wrapped his arms around Sergei, his warm skin making Sergei’s pulse jump. “I hope you’re planning on doing more than just seeing it.”
“You’re damn right I’m—”