On the subject of coincidences, what are the chances that the first night I’ve stopped into Wonderland inmonths, he just happens to be there? Not just be there, but notice me? A prickle of suspicion lodges itself in my brain. Not enough for me to rethink the plan to take Spettro home with me and let him takeme apart one rough touch at a time, but enough that I’m going to keep my guard up with him until I know what his story is.
“I didn’t think I’d run into you again,” I confess.
His fingers tighten a fraction on the back of my neck, just a light squeeze of gentle control and acknowledgment before he lets out one of those low, almost-a-laugh sounds.
“Were you hoping to, Alessio?”
Fuck, how does he make my name sound like the filthiest word anyone has ever uttered? Like he’s tongue fucking it as it rolls off his lips. My cock has been hard since the second he gripped the back of my neck at the bar, and it gives a needy throb in my silky briefs.
My first instinct is to lie, to pretend that what happened the other night hasn’t been playing on a constant loop in my mind ever since. I shouldn’t want him to know that I’m utterly fucking obsessed with him.
“Yes.” I tell the truth instead, and he makes a deep, satisfied noise in the back of his throat.
“I’m at Wonderland a lot,” he says. “It’s not so crazy that we’d bump into each other. Every horny criminal and lowlife in Wildcliff falls down the rabbit hole from time to time, don’t they?”
I chuckle. “I guess that’s fair. Except most of the people you’ve robbed wouldn’t recognize you.”
It’s a statement but it sounds more like a question, maybe because I’m fishing. I want to know if he makes a habit of breaking into apartments and putting the slutty, cock-starved residents on their knees.
“If you’re asking if I get caught and unmasked often, the answer is no. First time, actually.” He squeezes my neck again, guiding me around a corner onto a well-lit street.
Stepping from a shadowy street where half the buildings are tagged with graffiti and the other half are boarded up onto onewith glowing streetlamps and brownstones with garden boxes between each set of concrete steps is just as jarring as stepping out of the club was.
“I’m honored,” I tease, glancing over at him again.
With the brighter lights, I’m able to take in his whole face again, from his dark, haunted eyes to the stubble on his jaw that I nearly let myself reach for when he was standing close to me at Wonderland. Something about him screams that I shouldn’t touch without asking though, like a junkyard dog that isn’t exactly baring its teeth, but you can tell it won’t hesitate to bite if you’re stupid enough to get too close.
“The gloves, the backpack—you seem like a pro. I’m guessing you break into a lot of penthouses.”
He full-on chuckles this time, and the sound makes my stomach swoop with a kind of intoxicated excitement.
“Basement apartments would be a hell of a lot easier, but the people who live in them don’t tend to have Rolexes and diamond cufflinks,” he deadpans.
I’ll take that as a yes, which opens up a thousand more questions I’m dying to ask about who he is and how he ended up in my apartment to begin with. Why doesn’t he have a name? How long has he lived in Wildcliff? I don’t want to pry too much and risk him changing his mind before we even get back to my place though.
“You sell my gun?” I ask instead.
“Yup,” he says gruffly.
“Damn, that one was my favorite. It handled like a fucking dream.”
“I pawned it at Big Ray’s on twelfth. You might still be able to get it back if you head over there tomorrow,” he offers, and I feel him tense for just a second. “You’d be doing me a big favor if you didn’t mention that I stole it from you though. If Ray thought I was robbing Morettis, I doubt he’d buy anything else from me.”
“Buy my own pistol backanddon’t rat you out?” I arch an eyebrow at him before I stop to key in the passcode for the main lobby door to my building. “You’d better make it worth my while.”
His grip on my neck loosens and he drags his hand down my back, his fingers dancing along the slope of my spine until he reaches my ass and grabs it roughly. The hot puff of his breath against my ear makes my cock throb again and my stomach tighten with anticipation.
“Challenge accepted,” he purrs, then he gives me a small shove through the open door.
My building isn’t half as nice as Lorenzo’s or Elio’s, but there’s security in the lobby to keep the riff raff out… unless they climb the fire escape, apparently. I nod to the security guard, Gabriel, and he glances at Spettro, then back to me with a polite smile. Is he trying to remember the last time I brought anyone home? I could save him the trouble, the answer isnever. When I do get laid, it’s never here. I don’t need anyone knowing where I live.
We step into the elevator and the doors close behind us. Trapped in the small space with him, I can smell the leather of his gloves and jacket, along with a spicy scent that must be his cologne or bodywash. My heart thunders with the thrill of knowing I don’t have to be the one in control and the excitement of not being able to predict exactly what will happen next. Will he kiss me? Fuck me? Tie me up and breed my throat like he did last time? Will he leave right after and make me haunt Wonderland until I run into him again?
There’s a predatory glint in his eyes and he holds himself perfectly still as the elevator climbs higher and higher, doing a damn good job of making me think that Salvatore’s elevator isn’t the slowest one in the city after all. An impatient tremor works its way through my body and throbs in my cock.
“Why do you look so nervous, slut?” Spettro asks with a quirk of his lips.
“Just dying to know what you plan to do with me,” I rasp.