If The Seas Catch Fire(55)

Oh, it isn’t.

He was much too raw to talk about what he did in the club, but it was better than thinking about what else he did. Sergei shifted a bit, lifting himself up on his elbow so he could see Dom’s face. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with stripping. Do you?”

“I—well…” Dom stammered, his cheeks turning pink. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I guess I just…” He touched Sergei’s face. “I guess I was just curious. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Sergei hooked his leg over Dom’s, slipping his bare foot under Dom’s other calf. “And it isn’t like I’m going to strip forever.” He laughed quietly. “There’s… a point of forced retirement, you know?”

“I suppose there is.” Dom combed his hand through Sergei’s hair, fingertips grazing Sergei’s scalp and sending goose bumps prickling down his spine. “What will you do after that? I mean, ten, fifteen years from now—what do you think you’ll be doing?”

Sergei swallowed.

It doesn’t matter to you. You’ll probably be in prison. Or dead. And I’ll be in another hemisphere, moving on from this life.

Sergei cupped Dom’s cheek, the stubbled skin warm beneath his palm. “I guess I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

Dom gave a subtle nod, as if that was enough of an answer. No judgment, no approval or lack thereof—simply an acknowledgment that the question was answered.

“What about you?” Sergei asked.

“What about me?”

“In ten or fifteen years, do you think you’ll still be…”

Dom sighed. “If I’m still alive, I’ll still be in Cape Swan, still a part of my family’s organization.” He drew a soft arc along Sergei’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “If I saw an alternative that didn’t involve a bullet, I wouldn’t be part of it in fifteen minutes, never mind fifteen years.”

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

“Every day of my life.” Dom’s voice sounded hollow. Haunted, even.

“But you can’t? Ever?”

Shaking his head, Dom looked in Sergei’s eyes. “If I could, I would. But other people have. And Corrado always finds them. Wherever they go, he finds them. And when he does…” The shudder finished the thought.

Sergei chewed the inside of his cheek.

Dom smoothed Sergei’s hair. “You do know it’s dangerous being with me like this, right?”

Dom, you have no idea…

Sergei just nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“But you keep coming back.”

“Yeah.” Sergei leaned in and brushed his lips across Dom’s. “I do.”

For a heartbeat, he thought Dom might question him, ask him why he kept coming back for more when the danger was so clear and present. Instead, Dom wrapped his arms around him and drew him down into a long kiss and a warm, gentle embrace.

Sergei sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Dom hadn’t asked. Because this—the way they were holding each other and kissing, bringing every one of Sergei’s erogenous nerve endings back to life—was the only answer he had. He needed this for reasons that didn’t rationally outweigh the risks. As careful and calculated as he was, as much as he avoided unnecessary risks, Sergei couldn’t make himself turn away from Dom now.

So he didn’t.

He sank into Dom’s embrace, pressed his hardening cock against Dom’s hip, and lost himself in the last man on earth he should’ve touched.





Chapter 16


Dom and Sergei went their separate ways shortly before sunrise. On autopilot, Dom drove home, undressed again, and collapsed in his own bed, but sleep didn’t come.

It was weird, Sergei needing him instead of the other way around. He’d started thinking Sergei was doing this because, hey, he knew getting together with Dom meant guaranteed sex, and sometimes an effortless sure thing was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Except last night, it was Sergei who’d asked for it, and Sergei who’d been almost shaking with a need Dom couldn’t quite put his finger on. Dom had been serious when he’d told him this shouldn’t be a one-sided arrangement, but he hadn’t been expecting that.

In the darkness, he sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. He was glad he’d been able to give Sergei what he needed. Hopefully it had been enough. And he was more than a little thankful that Sergei took care of his needs too.

Dom refused to let that give him any kind of hope that there was—or might eventually be—more to this. Though he would’ve sawed off a limb to have a real, honest to God relationship with a man, it wasn’t happening. Sergei had walls up and Dom had obligations. Sex was as far as this thing could go. It couldn’t and wouldn’t last forever.

As it was, Sergei drove him to distraction. Dangerously so. When Dom’s obligations or his need to preserve his image kept them apart, he thought of nothing except how to make time to see him again. He dodged dates with Brigida Passantino now that she was back in town. Bowed out of social engagements whenever possible. Found any and every opportunity to text Sergei with busy tonight? or I’d like to see you.

And Sergei nearly always obliged. Sometimes it was three in the morning after he’d worked a shift at the club. Sometimes it was in a shithole motel by a truck stop two hours out of town in broad daylight. Sometimes it was at one of the seedier places as soon as the sun went down. Whenever, wherever—Dom was hooked on Sergei like half of Southern California was hooked on the coke his family processed through Cape Swan.