If The Seas Catch Fire(85)

His uncle paused, then nodded. “Good point. But be careful, Domenico.”

“I will.”

Dom bowed out of the conversation and hurried out toward his car. As he did, he pulled out his phone, but hesitated. He couldn’t keep turning to Sergei every time this life pushed him to his limits. Corrado was undoubtedly still going to hold Dom to his one-week ultimatum, so the sanity Sergei offered would be gone in a matter of days anyway. And besides, the last thing Dom was in the mood for was sex.

Still, all he could think of was Sergei. Of getting into a room somewhere, getting out of their clothes, and getting into bed. What they did then—if Sergei f*cked him, or if either of them came before the sun rose—didn’t matter. He just needed to be that close to someone who was alive. It wasn’t sex he wanted, per se—though, God, with Sergei involved, there would be sex—but a feverish, breathless escape from this life that was spiraling out of control.

More than ever, he needed what Sergei offered, and he was running out of time to lose himself in that passionate distraction.

So, on his way to his car, he texted Sergei.





Chapter 23


Are you busy tonight?

Sergei stared at the message. He definitely hadn’t expected that. Really? Dom was in the mood tonight?

And, more to the point, could Sergei even handle seeing Dom tonight?

Yes. Yes, because I need to touch him and know he’s okay.

He wrote back, Tell me when/where.

After the message had sent, he put the phone aside and shifted his attention back to cleaning the disassembled rifle on the footlocker in front of him. His conscience didn’t usually bother him after a job. Today it was gnawing him from the inside out.

He’d had to take the hit. It was a major move toward igniting the war between the families. And besides, if he hadn’t taken it, or he’d botched it, then it would be his head.

The phone buzzed again. Sergei wiped gun oil off his hands with a shop towel and picked it up.

Sooner the better.

Sergei chewed his lip. Text me when you nail down a place. I’ll be there ASAP.

He sent the message and continued cleaning and reassembling the rifle. As he did, he could only imagine how shaken Dom was. Whatever his relationship with Corrado’s consigliere, they’d seemed close. Friendly, at least. Their expressions hadn’t read like two men having a business discussion.

Three times, Sergei had considered bailing. He couldn’t do it with Dom sitting right there.

But he’d already failed to complete a hit on Dom. If he didn’t shoot the consigliere this time, there was a small but not insignificant possibility that someone would see the pattern. That when Domenico Maisano was present, Sergei lost his nerve.

So he’d taken the shot.

And now Dom was texting him, eager to see him as soon as possible.

He probably needed an outlet tonight. And isn’t that what this arrangement had become? What had begun as Dom getting gay sex out of his system had become an odd lifeline for both of them. The drug of choice when life in this volatile town went haywire. Sometimes Dom needed Sergei. Sometimes Sergei needed Dom. Sometimes they both seemed like they were at the edge of madness, and the ticket back to normal involved skin and lube.

Letting Dom depend on him like this was dangerous. So was letting himself depend on Dom. But on those nights when Dom’s touch held the key to making it through until dawn without breaking down, Sergei didn’t stand a chance of talking himself out of it. And on the nights when it was Dom who needed him, something in his Italian lover’s eyes appealed to a part of Sergei he didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t the thrill of sleeping with the enemy, or corrupting a Mafioso in a way that would horrify the others. It was something more… human.

Sighing, Sergei screwed the barrel back onto the rifle. This thing he was doing with Dom didn’t fit into the world where they lived, but he didn’t know why he kept trying to talk himself out of it. He knew as well as Dom that they’d both be there tonight. Whichever crappy motel wound up being their rendezvous, they’d be there, and they’d f*ck, and maybe on some plane, it made sense.

Whether it did or not, though, it was still going to happen.

And he couldn’t wait.



*



After the gun was cleaned and hidden away and Sergei had showered, he drove across town to the motel where Dom was waiting.

On the way to the designated room, he ignored the weird apprehension tightening behind his ribs. This was the same as any other night they’d spent together, he told himself over and over. Dom needed sex, Sergei would give him sex, and they’d both walk away like they did every time.

At the door, he paused, much like he did whenever he went to visit Mama, and collected himself. Deep breath. Shoulders back. Quiet knock.

Dom let him in, but as soon as Sergei was across the threshold, Dom grabbed him and shoved him up against the door, slamming it with their combined body weight. Panic surged through him. An ambush? Fight or flight kicked in, but just before Sergei could knee him and break free, Dom kissed him. Hard.

Sergei froze. His heart went crazy even as his lips, moving of their own volition, softened beneath Dom’s.

Not an attack. Not a threat. Just… hunger.

Exhaling through his nose, Sergei wrapped his arms around him. Dom’s erection ground against his hip, and in no time at all, they were both out of breath, panting as they kissed and groped at each other.