Guns n' Boys Book 1 Part 2 (28 page)

“Fucking pizza for all I care,” Seth hissed
and started taking out food from the fridge. Domenico grabbed the
shutter control and pressed the button, enveloping the living room
in darkness. What if there was a sniper on a roof nearby?

“I’m not giving him my food to eat,” Seth
growled and dumped a whole plastic box of lasagna in the trash.

“Stop!” Domenico grabbed his arms and turned
Seth toward him. “Calm down, okay?”

“No, he came here just to fuck with me. And
not in a good way.” Seth looked into his eyes with a sneer.

Anger boiled up in Domenico’s chest, and he
grabbed Seth’s nape in warning. “You will calm down and trust me,
okay?

“I am calm. I’m just saying that I’ll fucking
spar with him, and we’ll see who’s better at wrestling, who will
smash whose face in.”

“He’ll break your nose, or worse.” Domenico
shook him, desperate to get through to his stubborn lover. “You
will
not
wrestle. Do as I say.”

The hurt look Seth gave him was ridiculous in
these circumstances. “You don’t believe in me.”

Domenico groaned and rested his forehead on
Seth’s shoulder, breathing in his salty scent. “I do, but he’s been
training for far longer than you. You don’t stand a chance at this
point.”

“Okay. Whatever. I’m calm. Order food.” Seth
turned his back on Dom and reached for the next box in the
fridge.

“Seth, no. You made those for me,” pleaded
Dom, pulling him against his chest and burying his face in the
fragrant neck.

Seth took a deep breath that expanded his
whole chest, and pulled at Dom’s arms. “He’s gonna make fun of me
for cooking,” he said as if they were teenage boys, not potential
targets for murder.

“Tell him we bought it at a deli. Come on.”
Dom spun Seth around and gave him a quick kiss, savoring as much of
those sweet lips as he could. “Don’t let him provoke you.”

Seth reached for one of the boxes and opened
it in a rush. He pulled out the last lemon cupcake from the batch
he’d made two days ago. “But you eat this one. Quick, before he
comes back.” He pushed it against Dom’s lips, as if it were a
matter of life and death.

Domenico opened his mouth to avoid having the
frosting all over his face, and God, it was so good he wanted to
float in the air. Or eat it and have Seth suck him off at the same
time. That would have been perfect.

He moaned, brushing his thumb over Seth’s
side to calm him down. Things were moving far too quickly, and he
wished Luigi had actually told him what was going on.

Seth moved away just in time when they heard
footsteps in the corridor. Vincente came round in just a towel.

“So what did you guys order?” he asked,
walking into the kitchen.

Domenico pushed the cupcake sponge farther
into his mouth and waved at Vincente. His mouth was so full he
wasn’t sure he could utter a proper sound, but he wouldn’t spit the
cake out. It was almost as good as Seth’s dick.

“I got some leftover food from a local
Italian place,” Seth said reluctantly.

“I’m starving. And need the energy.” Vincente
wiggled his eyebrows and made a few suggestive thrusts with his
hips. Nice hips, and from what Domenico knew, there was a
decently-sized dick hidden under the towel, but he wouldn’t fuck
Vincente even if he were the last man in the world. Disgusting,
pussy-eating lowlife.

The music had no melody whatsoever. It
sounded like a bunch of unrelated items thrown together into a sack
that was being rhythmically shaken over the head of a mad whore.
And speaking of whores, there were plenty all around him in the
darkness of the shabby nightclub. If this was Vincente’s idea of
entertainment, Domenico felt sorry for the bastard’s actual
friends. With most of the lights off, the place seemed tolerable,
but Dom wouldn’t like to see it in ultraviolet, or even with
regular lights on.

Seth had in fact calmed down. If getting
drunk could be considered that. He sat slouched over a bottle next
to Vincente. A dancer walked over the counter that doubled as the
stage and smiled at the men sitting at her feet. The metal pole at
the end was where she was headed. She spun around it, ignoring any
beat the music had, but no one seemed to care. Her fake boobs
covered with a tiny golden bikini top were everything the patrons
wanted to see. Well, except her pussy. Domenico wasn’t sure what
the state law said about such displays, but he hoped the sparkly
thong would stay on, soaking in her juices. He didn’t want to even
think about it, but at least with Vincente’s attention occupied, he
was free to gradually spill his drink on the floor. The last thing
he wanted with Vincente around was to lose awareness of his
surroundings.

The dancer started swirling around the pole,
exposing her crotch, hidden by only a tiny strip of fabric, and
Domenico did whistle, he did groan and adjust his pants, like all
the other men did. He needed to blend in.

He didn’t appreciate the way Seth looked at
him every now and then. The fucker even laughed when the stripper
kneeled in front of Dom and rubbed her breasts in front of him.

“Over here, over here.” Seth laughed and
waved a ten dollar bill at her.

Domenico leaned in, holding up a note between
two fingers as he called her over with the other hand. He knew what
would happen. She’d squeeze his face between her tits, and he’d
pretend he loved it.

“You trying to outbid your friend?” She
laughed as she leaned over, and when her tits rubbed Dom’s face, he
could swear her nipples brushed against his cheeks. “I think I like
you better though.”

“Yeah, sorry babes, this one’s married!”
Vincente laughed and pointed to Seth.

Domenico ran his hand, over her ridiculously
smooth skin, and slipped the note under the waistband of her thong,
pushing it down toward her pussy. It was just for Vincente’s
viewing pleasure but still made him cringe as he leaned back.

Seth raised his bottle with a sneer and
downed it in one go. “My bad! I think her pussy’s all wet for Dom.
Maybe he should get a proper lapdance?”

“D’you like that, Dom?” Vincente laughed,
already taking out his wallet. “My treat!”

Domenico gritted his teeth behind the smile
he sent them. He leaned back in his chair, grinning at the dancer,
who approached him in cat-like moves. Her bright smile was almost
fluorescent in the darkness.

“Yeah, handsome? You wanna feel me all over?”
She wiggled her drawn-on eyebrows and held out her hand to him.
“Let’s go somewhere private.”

Seth booed and slapped the counter. “I wanna
see it!”

Domenico snorted and slipped his hand to her
round ass, squeezing her through the fishnet tights. This was like
what being taken for a vasectomy had to feel like. His balls were
already pushing up against his body like two frightened kittens,
but he would hold his head high and do whatever was necessary.
“Fuck off. Get your own lapdance,” he said, watching as Vincente
pushed the money into the woman’s hand.

She giggled and wrapped her arm around Dom’s
waist. It felt like a snake sliding behind his back and the flowery
scent of her perfume was already making him sweat. “I’m Tamara,
you?” she asked as she led him to a dark, velvet curtain.

“I’m Dom,” was all he could squeeze out as
his head spun from the various colliding ideas of how to get out of
this mess. He couldn’t just tell her he was gay. She led him
through a corridor with narrow doors. Each had a metal plaque
hanging from a hook to indicate whether a room was vacant. With the
deafening noise of the music, they could hardly talk, but when she
finally led him into a dimly lit room with a leather couch in
strategic proximity of yet another dancing pole, it became oddly
quiet and Domenico’s lips zipped up.

“So, Dom, you seem tense. Need to unwind
after a long day?” Tamara said with a smile, squinting slightly as
she put her hands on his shoulders and guided him to the couch.
When he sat down, she straightened up and pushed a button on the
wall. Sensual, slow music enveloped the tiny room, gluing him to
the seat, as the woman began circular movements of her hips as she
stroked her own barely clad body.

Domenico swallowed, leaning back as far as he
could from the pussy hidden beneath the tiny piece of fabric. He
was so not ready for this after being put on the spot. Seth would
pay for this. “I’m...” He took a deep breath. “Could you sit down
next to me?”

“You sure? I know how to make a man happy.”
Tamara tipped her body forward so fast Dom had to stop himself from
reaching for the gun, but all she did was put her hands on the wall
behind him, so her big breasts almost touched his face.

Domenico had to stop himself from pushing her
away but instead, he gave a low sigh and smiled. “I’m sure, you’re
beautiful. But... I’m really not in the mood for that tonight.”
This was probably the first time he declined sex. Ever.

“Oh? What is it, sweetie?” Tamara stroked his
cheek and slowly sat down next to him.

Domenico slumped in relief and gave her a
tight smile. “I’m sorry. I know my friends do their best to make me
feel better, but it’s just too soon for me. My wife just left with
our kid two days ago, and as lovely as you are, I really... can’t,”
he said flatly, hoping it was enough.

The way her eyes softened had him sigh in
relief. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” She grasped his hand. “You
can talk to me about it if you need to. Nobody needs to know.”

Domenico bit his lip and clasped his hands
between his thighs, staring at the floor. “I’m traveling a lot
because of my job, and it seems that she got bored with spending so
much time alone. But, you know, she never really spoke to me about
this. One day, she just left.”

Tamara nodded and looked at him with
compassion, which felt extremely uncomfortable in these
circumstances. “I understand. My ex-husband did that. Just walked
out one day, and I never saw him again. He left me with two kids
without even thinking how I will make ends meet.”

Domenico glanced at her and slowly patted her
upper back. He supposed that would be the most appropriate and
non-sexual place to touch in this situation. Now that he was away
from immediate danger, he could start being uncomfortable with the
role of a confessor. “That’s awful. What a dick.” That would keep
her away from sexual topics.

The next fifteen minutes passed on Tamara
revealing her real name, telling Domenico about her children, and a
tip of two hundred dollars. That should keep her mouth shut about
what they actually did during the private time. She gave him a red
kiss on the jaw, and he smudged it just a bit before returning to
the Villani brothers.

“You took forever!” Vincente laughed and
patted Tamara on the ass when she passed them. “She must have liked
you.”

Domenico gave them a smug smile and sat down
in his seat, slouching in the pose of a sated lion. “I gave her a
tip big enough to get whatever I wanted.”

Seth wasn’t even looking his way, just downed
his drink. Of course, why would he after sending Dom into the hell
of plump, smooth thighs?

When the music got even louder, a total of
three dancers ascended the catwalk to perform in what he supposed
was a pole dancing competition. The roars coming from the men who
gathered around the stage only confirmed his suspicions.

“Hey, Dom? As I said, my treat!” Vincente
yelled with a loud grin and passed him a credit card. “Go get us
the most expensive champagne they’ve got!”

Domenico patted Vincente’s back and made his
way toward the bar, making sure that his gait was not completely
stable. He didn’t want Vincente to know he hadn’t drunk throughout
the evening. Having passed a spill, and a half-naked waitress on
his way, he eventually reached the counter, toying with the credit
card as he watched the bartender’s ass wiggle to the beat. Dom
would do him after the horror he’d been through at this den of
debauchery.

The bartender spun around to the music and
sent him a wide smile as he reached for the card. “What can I do
for you, Mr. Tropico?” He laughed, but quickly covered his mouth.
“Sorry, no disrespect.”

Blood froze in Domenico’s veins, and he
pulled the credit card from the bartender’s hand, frantically
looking at the name on it. It was only when the name trembled in
front of his eyes that he realized his hands started shaking. It
was the name from the printed-out email he got off the Chinese who
attacked them back in Berlin, the name Angelo mentioned. The
buzzing music seemed to stream between his ears like a drill that
prevented him from thinking. Fucker wanted them dead all those
months ago and Seth was just sitting there, laughing with Vincente,
drunk like a sailor. Seth couldn’t be an easier target right now.
It looked like they had all underestimated Vincente. Not such a
dumbass after all.