Page 29 of Third Crime's A Charm
“We both learned at a very young age how short a life can be and how important it is to use the time you have wisely. I have always tried to make the most of my time, Eli is determined to conquer it.”
The hands around Matteo’s foot stopped and Truman opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head. He went back to massaging and laughed softly. “You’re worth a hell of a lot more than that star. I wish you believed me.”
“I might if you weren’t hiding something big from me,” Matteo said with a pettysmirk. “I’m supposed to take your word for it that it’s a good cause but how many times have we seen that your definition of right and wrong are different from mine?”
“Not as different as you want to believe!” Truman said as he hugged Matteo’s foot with one arm and gestured with the other. “Do you remember when the Gardener Museum was hit in Boston?” he asked and waited for Matteo to nod. It was possibly the most infamous and costly of heists—in retail value and lives—in modern history. “That case is still unsolved becauseeverysingle suspect is dead, except for one or two alleged conspirators. They’re only alive because they refused to speak and did hard time. There’s a $10 million reward for information but they’ll never get those masterpieces back. The mafia had them and they were destroyed, for whatever reason.”
“I’m familiar with the story.” Matteo slid his right foot between Truman’s thighs and pressed it against his semi-hard cock. “What’s your point?”
“My what?” Truman struggled for a moment, then coughed softly. “Eight people are dead, half of them as a result of hits. That we’re aware of,” he added heavily. “There’s no telling how many times those pieces were moved but the heat got too high and they were eventually destroyed.”
“Right,” Matteo said weakly but shrugged it off. “That’s exactly why I won’t tell.”
Truman’s brow arched dubiously. “You say that now but what if you’re caught in the act? If the police or the FBI doesn’t get it out of you, one of the Irish or Italian gangs will, or you’ll spill in prison. I can’t risk that and your odds are better if you’re just an expert that was hired for a job.”
“What if I’m the fall guy? Your patsy?” Matteo asked and Truman shook his head.
“You’ve seen too many old movies. You don’t use a master as a patsy.”
This time, Matteo gave him a dubious look. “Flattering me again? Do you think I’m that easy to distract?” He curled his foot around Truman’s erection, tired of puzzles and sparring. “You’re almost as bad as my brothers.”
“I don’t think you are but I’ll take that as a compliment,” Truman replied, then gasped when Matteo lifted his left foot and pressed it against his face, mashing his cheek and lips.
“You shouldn’t,” Matteo said, no longer interested in talking about them.
“I’m sorry.” The seductive rumble was followed by a groan as Truman nibbled and licked the sole.
“I love that you understand the sensuality of an apology and its usefulness as foreplay,” Matteo said as he applied more pressure to Truman’s cock, making him whimper and squirm. “I should step on this for making me love anything about you.”
HefeltTruman’s response, the hard, hot throb as intense as the loud sob, muffled under Matteo’s foot. “Fuck, I’m so sorry!”
Matteo laughed and shook his head. “You’re the worst, Truman. Take it out.” He curled his toes around the waist of Truman’s running shorts.
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” Matteo nodded. “Come all over my foot and lick it clean.”
The front of Truman’s shorts was shoved down, freeing his cock. He held Matteo’s foot tight, rubbing it firmly against his shaft as he licked and sucked on Matteo’s toes. Instead of finding it strange, Matteo was enthralled at how much devotion Truman could lavish on a single foot. There was no question that Truman found him desirable but to wantallof Matteo, from his lips to his toes, was an incredible turn-on.
So was the power. Nothing snapped Truman’s control and ruined his focus faster. He would follow Matteo into a volcano if he was barefoot. Truman would also come all over Matteo’s foot like a nervous teenager and lick it off if he was told to. Truman’s breaths came faster and his gasps grew frantic, his cheeks growing pinker as he got closer to the edge.
“Do it. I dare you,” Matteo whispered and rubbed faster with his foot. He was aching, he was so hard and desperate to be touched, but he didn’t want to interrupt Truman’s performance.
“Fuck! Matteo, I’m so close!”
“Show me,” he purred, licking his lips as he watched Truman’s hand and cock. Matteo jumped when Truman jumped and cum spilled over his fist. It was hot and slick as Truman guided as much of it onto the bottom of Matteo’s foot as he could. Truman smeared the cum on his hand on the top of Matteo’s foot, then raised it.
“My pleasure.” Every trace was licked off of Matteo’s foot before it was gently lowered. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes.” Matteo nodded and shimmied out of his trunks. “Help me finish.” He barely completed the command before Trumandove off the ottoman and dropped to his knees between Matteo’s legs. Truman swallowed as much of Matteo’s shaft as he could, sucking fast and hard. “That’s it!” Matteo cried out, grabbing Truman by the hair.
The back of Matteo’s ankle hooked around Truman’s head as he bucked and writhed against his face. Part of Matteo wanted to get back at Truman for being so hard to resist, but he was lost in the wild heat and pleasure. Truman worshiped Matteo with his mouth and his hands, growling in delight and urging him on.
“Truman!” Matteo arched, his eyes crossing as heat erupted in his core. Tingling pleasure spilled up his spine as the room filled with light. Truman sucked greedily, claiming every drop of Matteo’s release. “Truman, Truman, Truman!” he whispered as his body twitched and shivered through another giddy tremor.
“Mmmm…” Truman released Matteo and raised his head, smiling. “I love hearing you cry my name.”
“Don’t. This can’t happen again.” Matteo draped an arm over his eyes, already reeling.
