Yes. Oh God, yes. Dom pounded out his response so fast, he thought his phone was going to burst into flames: Name the time & place.
They’d made plans. Dom had gone back to work, where he spent the day counting down until Sergei would be off work and checking his watch every time he finished even the tiniest task in the office. At home, he’d showered and shaved, texting Brigida about dinner while he made sure he had condoms for tonight, and—
Then Sergei bailed.
At a quarter past eleven, the message came:
Can’t make it—sorry.
Dom stared at the text. Seriously?
Well, shit.
He lounged back on his bed and unbuttoned his collar. Now what?
It was a bit late to see if Brigida wanted to meet sooner than later. On the other hand, maybe Brigida had a spontaneous side. If she was the type who’d drop everything and go out for midnight coffee, then maybe that would give them a little more in common. And maybe they could both compare notes on men they fantasized about.
He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. This was going to be a fucking nightmare. A great political move, but a marital disaster.
No, he wouldn’t bother Brigida tonight.
He did, however, text Biaggio. Could use some advice—free for lunch tomorrow?
Biaggio didn’t answer immediately. That wasn’t surprising. Dom was pretty sure the man never slept, and he was almost always busy with something.
About twenty minutes later, though, the response came: Come by the house tomorrow. 11am.
Typical Biaggio. Yes, he was free, and they’d meet up on his terms. At least they were meeting at Biaggio’s place instead of Corrado’s—Dom needed a little breathing room for once. God help him if Corrado overheard the conversation he planned on having with Biaggio.
Eventually, Dom went downstairs and flicked on the TV. It had been a long time since he’d lounged in front of some mindless television, and that sounded like exactly what he needed tonight.
Halfway through the third or fourth episode of some ridiculous sitcom, Dom’s phone vibrated on the end table.
To his surprise, it was a text from Sergei.
Change of plans. Free after all. Still on?
Dom’s heart sped up. He quickly texted back, Definitely.
Did that smack of desperation? Probably. But he was desperate at this point. In a week’s time, he’d most likely be engaged to the woman of his uncle’s organization’s dreams, so he planned to take advantage of every possible opportunity to get Sergei—men—out of his system. Once he and Brigida sealed the deal, that was it. He didn’t foresee himself being a particularly passionate husband, but he would be a faithful one. Which meant… no Sergei.
Tonight, though, he was all Sergei’s. He went upstairs, grabbed the condoms and lube, and got the hell out of there.
*
The drive from his neighborhood to the shady district with all the no-tell motels seemed to get longer every time. Anticipation made every mile drag out until Dom was climbing the walls, gripping the wheel and willing his heart to slow down.
Tonight was no exception. And thank God, Sergei already had a room—Dom was a few blocks away when Sergei texted him with a room number.
No waiting. No checkin. Just park. Walk. Knock.
And there he was.
As soon as the door was closed, they were wrapped up in each other’s arms.
“Sorry for bailing,” Sergei whispered between kisses. “Something came up, and then—”
“It’s okay.” Dom cradled his face and kissed him lightly. “You’re here now. I don’t care about anything else.”
Sergei’s whole body seemed to relax, and he melted against Dom.
“Are you feeling better tonight?” Dom asked between kisses. “After—”
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Sergei claimed another hard, demanding kiss. “You brought lube, right?”
“Absolutely. Are you in any hurry? To get anywhere?”
“Not anymore, no.” Sergei ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his lip. “Are you?”
“I was. But now that I’m here…”
Sergei grinned.
Dom combed his fingers through Sergei’s short hair. “God, this is insane. What we’re doing.” He paused. “But I think it’s the only sane part of my life right now.”
Sergei laughed, his devilish eyes sending a shiver through Dom. “I think this is the first time someone’s considered me a sane part of anything.”
“Their loss,” Dom whispered, and pulled him closer.
Sergei lifted his chin, and when their lips met, he wrapped his arms around Dom. As the kiss went on, as it deepened, they gathered handfuls of each other’s shirts but made no move to peel off any layers quite yet.
He had no idea who was leading or if their bodies were simply moving, but they inched toward the bed. And then they were on it—lying across the mattress, Sergei straddling Dom—and Dom finally managed to push Sergei’s shirt up and off. Christ, they were still mostly dressed and he was already lightheaded.