Sergei nodded. Nerves, he guessed. Not sure what to say after a tryst like that, so he was making small talk.
The attempt at conversation didn’t get off the ground, though, and the silence set in again.
After a while, Dom turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Listen, you already know what I am.” His eyebrow rose slightly. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that discretion is… a priority.”
The dangerous undercurrent in his voice sent a chill through Sergei—either he trusted the promise to keep things quiet, or he’d already decided Sergei wouldn’t have the opportunity to let his secret out. The presence of that .357 tingled on the ends of the hairs standing on the back of Sergei’s neck.
Sergei wasn’t afraid of him, just… alert. If Dom tried anything, he’d be expecting a terrified stripper to fight back. Surprise, motherfucker…
But he hadn’t tried anything yet, so Sergei played it cool and didn’t let on that he was mentally calculating a few escape strategies as he said, “I dance all over men who could lose their jobs and wives if anyone caught them. Discretion may as well be my stage name.”
Dom laughed softly. “Discretion the Dancer. It’s catchy. I like it.” The upward curve of the corner of his mouth leveled out, and he watched himself trail the backs of his fingers down Sergei’s arm. “To be serious, I need to be sure no one knows about this but us.” His eyes flicked up and met Sergei’s. “Especially if there’s any possibility of continuing this… arrangement.” The slightest lift of his eyebrow put the ball in Sergei’s court.
“Continuing?”
Dom nodded. “I want to see you again.”
Every instinct told him to run like hell, but they’d told him that at the club too. And at the door. Lying here now, body aching from sex with Dom, he was hard-pressed to convince himself this was a bad idea.
“Continue, how?” he asked. “Sleeping together?”
Dom nodded. “That’s probably all I can offer or ask for.”
“So I’d be… your concubine?” Sergei meant it playfully, but the words came out with slightly more venom than he’d intended. I’m not a hooker, he wanted to tersely remind him.
“If you think about it,” Dom said quietly, “I’d be yours too.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s only good if we’re both getting something out of it.” Dom smoothed Sergei’s hair. “But it can’t go any farther than sex. And it’s not forever. There’s going to come a time when I have to get married. I’m not the slightest bit interested in women, but marrying one is part of the life I live, and once I do…” He shook his head, and his voice softened a bit as he ran his fingers down Sergei’s arm again. “Once I do, there won’t be any more of… this.”
Sergei studied him. “So what you’re telling me is that you want us to fuck on the down-low so you can get gay sex out of your system before you get married?”
Dom hesitated. “I’m not sure I’d put it quite that crudely, but… yeah. I guess.”
If it had been any other man, Sergei would’ve told him where to shove that arrangement, but this time… he didn’t. He liked the sex they’d had so far. He liked that this was discreet with no strings attached.
But that wasn’t what made the decision for him. Regardless of their arrangement, Dom was the first man in a long time who’d touched him like a lover and not an object. Sergei had to admit, Mafioso or not, that was addictive.
“All right.” He sat up. “Total discretion. Just sex.”
Dom grinned. “You’re in?”
Sergei licked his lips. “I’m in.”
Chapter 10
Orgasm still tingling along his spine and curling his toes, Dom collapsed. Sergei dropped to the bed beside him. This was the… fourth night they’d met up? Fifth? He was losing track. The days and nights were starting to blur, especially since the two of them always met at eye-wateringly late hours, but he didn’t care. As long as they kept burning up the sheets like this, he didn’t care what day it was or how much he paid for it the next day.
Sergei kissed his temple, then got up to get rid of the condom. Eventually, they’d no doubt move to the bathroom for a shower, but for the moment, Dom didn’t dare stand up. Not with his head still spinning and his knees still shaking.
His uncle would’ve had his head if he knew where Dom was spending the wee hours of most nights.
Let him find out. Dom wiped a hand over his sweaty face. Don’t fucking care. Feel too fucking good.
He knew damn well this couldn’t and wouldn’t last long. Once Brigida Passantino was back from Italy, the pressure would be on again to think about getting married. As long as she was gone, though…
Sergei returned from the bathroom and climbed into bed again, his movements graceful and catlike even after he’d just finished fucking Dom for the second time tonight. He lay beside Dom and propped himself up on his elbow. “I’m curious about something.”
“Hmm?”
Sergei studied him, his blue eyes intense with scrutiny. “You said it’s been a long time since you’ve been with another man.”
Dom nodded. “Almost fifteen years, I think.”