Page 64 of Burn this City

“I noticed that you prefer the amateur stuff anyway.”

“How …”

“I own that site, and a few others. Compared to some other business interests, it’s good, clean fun.” Sal kept his hand on Jack’s shoulder even when the door opened, guided him along the corridor, and then opened the door to the penthouse. “Enzo and another guy are in the apartment making plans. They both know who you are.”

“You own that site? Wow.”

“I’ll tell you that story some other time, but yeah. I like this kind of stuff because it can’t be disrupted easily.” A lot of classic Cosa Nostra activities had translated pretty well—gambling, loan sharking, prostitution, and any number of frauds and scams. Of course, Sal wasn’t the only one in that space by far, but he’d moved into it the most aggressively.

Both Spadaro and Enzo looked up when Sal came back to the living room. “Guys, Jack Barsanti.”

Enzo gave a lopsided grin. “I think we should go grab that Thai you wanted, eh, Barracuda?”

Spadaro glanced quizzically at him.

Thanks for making this awkward, Enzo.“Let’s hear first what Jack has to say first. Or maybe we should do that when you come back.” Arguably torturing Jack even more was completely unnecessary at this point, but he might be less distracted after Sal was done with him.

“It’s okay, boss.” Enzo stood and grabbed his wallet and jacket. “Silvio here claims the Thai in London is better than anything we have.”

“I hope you’re taking him to the Ayutthaya?” Jack asked.

“You bet your ass I am.” Enzo sized up Spadaro, who was slowly rising from his seat. “Port Francis is small but mighty.”

“Challenge accepted,” Spadaro stated bluntly.

“Full tasting menu, then,” Jack added.

“Definitely.” Enzo nodded to Jack with a co-conspirator’s smirk, and then looked at Sal. “Two hours.”

“Noted.” Sal waited for the door to close behind the unlikely late lunch companions, then smiled at Jack, who seemed both amused and embarrassed. “Good old reliable Enzo. Bedroom?”

“He’s okay with this?”

“More than okay. Enzo and I are … not boyfriends, or partners, or even really lovers. It’s complex, but jealousy doesn’t play a part in it.”

“I want to know everything.” Jack’s tone suggested a dozen meanings. Sal all but pushed him toward the bedroom, and for some added privacy—Enzo had keys to the penthouse—locked the door behind them.

36

The large bed was unmade, and Jack imagined that Sal had risen from it naked, and that the sheets would smell of him. Whatever his relationship with Enzo was, or that hard-eyed stranger, there was only one pillow on the bed, and maybe Sal had lain there and stroked himself when he’d sent Jack those videos. The shutters were nearly closed, allowing in no more than an intimate gloom that was a whole lot less unnerving for these things than all the light in Jack’s house. Jack also noticed how the gloom softened the cast of Sal’s face, and imagined that his own bruising didn’t look so bad right now.

Sal stood close and placed a hand on Jack’s chest. “No false bravado, okay? If something doesn’t feel good, tell me. I want to do this right.”

That was the most considerate anybody had ever been to him. Jack couldn’t even remember when somebody had last cared what he liked or what he felt. Finding it with a man who posed the greatest risk to his life, and who should be an enemy was mind-twistingly bizarre. Jack touched Sal’s chest in return and felt the man’s steady breath anchoring him. He wore a light woolen sweater, cashmere most likely, and when Jack slid his hands underneath, all he encountered was warm, naked skin. He pushed higher, and Sal helped by pulling the sweater up and finally over his head, to toss it into one corner of the room without looking.

“That’s right. This happens at your pace.” Sal spoke in a low rumble that made Jack want to push him to the bed and do all the things he only knew from watching. What he’d never taken into account when it came to imagining sex was how hard his heart would be beating.

He moved closer to kiss the place between Sal’s collar bones. Sal’s hands on his waist and his smell in Jack’s nose steadied and weakened him at the same time. He kissed Sal’s throat, sandpapery with stubble, then dropped one hand to cup Sal’s groin, feeling his hard cock through the cloth. That gave him more confidence, the fact that while Sal seemed in no rush, he clearly wouldn’t mind if he did push for more.

“Same goes for you,” Jack whispered. “Is there anything you want, or don’t want?”

“I’m kind of into everything to a ridiculous degree.” Sal chuckled. “If you just want to kiss and touch, I’m game. If you want a sixty-nine, I’m game. If you’re heading straight for anal, God, yeah, game. Taking and giving. But don’t let that influence your choices.”

“What are you doing with Enzo?”

“It’s bad form to ask that.” Sal’s eyes sparkled. “But he’s into bottoming.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed.”

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