Detective Gabriel Ashby has never looked twice at another man, yet the criminal across from him,
the man he’s interrogating, isn’t like any other. Gabe can’t deal with the sudden, intense need he has
for one of NYPD’s Most Wanted. Everyone close to Angelo Pagan ends up dead, with the smug gang
leader standing amid the rubble. Gabe would love nothing more than to bust Angelo’s ass and lock
him up. So why is he seeing the bastard in his dreams at night?
Angelo Pagan knows attraction to Gabe is suicide. He’s resolute to ignore the chemistry…until a
police raid goes wrong. He critically injures Gabe, changing the trajectory of both their lives. Now
the two can’t get close enough. They settle into a forbidden affair threatened by lies and betrayal,
living on different sides of the law with no way of breaching the gap between them. With the
authorities looking to make an example of Angelo, Gabe has to decide if it’s really worth it to hate the
sin but love the sinner.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Love the Sinner
ISBN 9781419939686
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Love the Sinner Copy right © 2012 Avril Ashton
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover design by Fiona Jay de
Photos: Dani Sim m onds, TEA, Tverdposhay a, KD/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication May 2012
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LOVE THE SINNER
Avril Ashton
Acknowledgments
Per our recently updated spousal contract, and to ensure my endless supply of cake is always at the
ready, I must thank Mr. A. I must.
Shout out to Grace Bradley, because she’s good for my ego. To Hales and Robin for beta-ing them
boys who like boys. Thanks, ladies!
Chapter One
“It’s about goddamn time one of you people showed up.”
Detective Gabriel Ashby closed the interrogation room door behind him and raised an eyebrow at
the man who spoke. Draped in a chair, long dark hair flowing over and past his shoulders, Angelo
Pagan scowled at him from behind dark sunglasses.
Gabe dropped into the chair opposite, laying out the crime scene photos side by side on the gray
metal table. “I didn’t realize you had someplace more important to be than here, helping us find your
sister’s killer.”
“That’s because no one asked about my itinerary.” Pagan brushed invisible lint off his black
leather jacket and leaned forward, lacing his fingers. “I’m here, without my lawyer, because I have
nothing to hide. Finding my sister’s killer is my number one priority. Sitting around shooting the
breeze with you? Not so much.”
His thick Brooklyn accent, rough and flavored with Spanish, tugged at something inside Gabe. He
frowned, fingers tightening on the edge of the folder he held.
“We haven’t been properly introduced, Mr. Pagan.” He held out a hand. “Gabriel Ashby. Lose the
sunglasses.”
Pagan’s lips, full and firm-looking, curved. “You’re new, aren’t you?” He grasped Gabe’s hand,
enveloping him in rough heat.
The dull, white walls of the room closed in on Gabe. A chill blanketed his skin even as sweat
hightailed it down his spine. He swallowed, fighting the urge to bolt like a scared kid rather than the
twelve-year veteran he was.
When had he started noticing men’s lips or the texture of their skin? Angelo Pagan cut a commanding
figure even seated. Gabe knew from his considerably thick file that the leader of Los Pescadores, one
of Brooklyn’s most notorious gangs, stood well over six feet. He wasn’t good-looking, at least not in
any traditional sense.
The man was hard. His body and face enhanced with its sharp-angled bone structure. The scruff on
his jaw made him look like the dangerous man the NYPD knew him to be but couldn’t prove. The
black sweater he wore molded to a solid chest and wide shoulders. His hair gleamed a vibrant blue-
black in the deliberately dim lighting.
And here Gabe sat, fighting not to stare at his mouth. Cataloging Pagan’s features like he would a
woman’s. Christ Almighty. When did that happen? He shook his head to clear his thoughts,
remembering Pagan’s question. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I am new.” Folding his arms over his chest,
Gabe stared at his reflection in those Ray Bans. “Would you like someone you’re more comfortable
with?” He didn’t quite hide his smirk. “Get rid of the sunglasses. I won’t ask again.”
“You’ll do for now, cop.” Pagan removed the sunglasses and winked.
That last word, delivered in a growl probably meant to denigrate, heated Gabe’s skin and hardened
his cock.
He jerked. What the fuck?
Pagan’s lips quirked as his brown eyes locked on Gabe, holding him in place. His gaze flashed fire,
sparking an answering blaze under Gabe’s skin, and he couldn’t look away. The mocking glint in
Pagan’s eyes dared him to break eye contact first. He swallowed, wetting his parched throat as he
reminded himself of his job.
And Trish waiting patiently at home.
This is nothing. This means nothing. Gabe coughed. “Where were you last night between the hours
of ten p.m. and one a.m., Mr. Pagan?”
“At a birthday party. Over one hundred people can testify to that. Do you think I killed my sister?”
He kept his tone calm, but Gabe detected the controlled anger on slow boil underneath and purposely
ignored the question. “The birthday party was thrown by you, yes? As a surprise for your sister?”
A flash of pain, deep and wrenching, crossed the man’s face before he blanked it and nodded. “Yes.
She turned twenty-five yesterday.”
Sympathy welled up for a second, but Gabe squashed it immediately. It didn’t matter that Pagan
obviously cared for his sister. The woman had been gunned down in front of his own home, in the
middle of his street.
“Catarina was executed,” Gabe pointed out. “Who wanted to hurt you that badly?”
Pagan leaned forward then, elbows on the table. “I have no idea, cop.”
Gabe inhaled slowly, catching a whiff of mint blended with something exotic and wild. The way
Pagan called him cop made his body react, made him need. He cursed his twitching dick, willing it to
behave, to remember he was all about pussy, never cock. God, he couldn’t be attracted to this…
person. Pagan was the wrong sex and a freaking criminal. If he wasn’t slowly losing his mind, he’d
laugh at the irony. His cock had been playing dead for Trish the past few weeks, but roused at a husky
word from a goldeneyed man.
A criminal.
A man.
Gabe didn’t find it funny.
“Do you think this is funny, Pagan?” He pushed the pictures of the crime scene toward Pagan. The
color photos of his sister lying dead in the middle of Fifty-Third Street with one shot to the head.
“She was executed because of your crimes.”
Pagan sat back, his jaw tight.
“Who have you pissed off lately?”
Pagan laughed, low and husky. “I’m the last person to get on anyone’s bad side, cop. I’m a charmer.”
He winked. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes, searching to find a way to wipe the smug look off his face. All that bravado,
he just knew it was a façade. What was Angelo Pagan’s true face? “Your sister found out the hard
way, didn’t she? One of your enemies wanted to send you a message and she lost her life.”
Pagan’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t speak.
“You put the people you claim to care about in jeopardy and here you are, burying your sister. How
does it feel to be the reason your sister’s dead? The reason your mother is heartbroken?”
Pagan just stared at Gabe, his lips curved, eyes mocking. Unmovable. Unreachable.
Gabe ached to punch him in the jaw, knock some sense into him. Some morals. Most of all he ached
to touch the man, test the texture of those lips, and wasn’t that the most fucked-up thing of all? Before
he stepped into this room his most pressing concern was how to react if Trish brought up marriage
again, and now this.
Lusting over a criminal. Gabe pushed back his chair and got to his feet, spinning away in an attempt to
hide the bulge in his jeans. He headed over to the door and opened it before turning to Pagan. “You
can leave, but trust me when I tell you we will find the person responsible for this.”
Pagan got up, grabbing his sunglasses. He walked past Gabe, brushing up against him, body heat
reaching out to scald him. Gabe hissed in a breath, schooling his features into a blank slate. His
fingers twitched, itching to fist in the thick luxury of Pagan’s hair.
“I’d warn you not to take justice into your own hands, but I’m hoping you’ll try.”
Pagan stopped and met his gaze with a raised eyebrow.
“I want you to try something ’cause I’ll be there watching,” Gabe growled. “And I’ll get to lock your
ass up. Take you off the streets finally.”
A slow smile spread over Pagan’s features, genuine and real, catching Gabe completely off guard. He
fisted his hands at his body’s hungry reaction, glancing away before Pagan caught any signs of his
attraction in his eyes.
“I’ll be seeing you, cop.”
Gabe turned back to him, watching as Pagan allowed his mask to slip for a second. There. Written
behind those flashing gold eyes was the same heat. The same attraction.
Then he blinked and it was gone.
Pagan sauntered off, leaving Gabe’s heart thumping and his body aching.
* * * * *
“Everyone in position?”
Focusing on the heavy door of the warehouse hiding Angelo Pagan’s newest shipment of guns, Gabe
spoke into his earpiece. “Ready.”
The other men—eight in all—situated at different positions around the building answered in the
affirmative. Seems business didn’t stop even if the gang leader’s sister died. Gabe tightened his
gloved fingers on his gun and waited for the all clear. He salivated at the thought of locking up the
bastard Pagan, maybe then he’d get some rest from the erotic thoughts running through his head in the
three days since he’d laid eyes on him. He shouldn’t be wondering about the feel of Pagan’s lips on
his or what he’d taste like.
Not that he had anything against gays. His brother was gay for Christ’s sake, but Gabe had a live-
in girlfriend who wanted a commitment. He couldn’t very well tell Trish the reason for their
nonexistent sex life was his fantasies about another man.
“All right, people,” McCabe, the task force leader, spoke into the earpiece. “We’ve got warm
bodies. Two in the bottom and one up top. Watch your asses. Go. Go. Go.”
Beside Gabe, two other officers knocked down the warehouse door with two swings of the battering
ram. They all filed in.
“NYPD, nobody move!”
The occupants of the warehouse scurried through the crates piled all over the place, floor to ceiling.
Gabe turned to his left as cops and criminals alike scattered, moving toward the sound of footsteps
with his gun at the ready. Heart thumping, he stepped carefully, one foot in front of the other as he
peeked around the corner. He caught the silhouette of a body hurrying up to the second level.
Gabe climbed the stairs, treading lightly. “NYPD, come out with your hands up.” Low voices reached
his ears. “Angelo Pagan, please show yourself.” They had no real proof of who was in the warehouse
tonight, but Gabe couldn’t imagine Pagan staying behind the scenes. When the informant told them of
the new shipment arriving tonight, everyone on the 72nd’s Gang Task Force automatically seized the
opportunity to nab Pagan and his crew.
Gabe moved swiftly once he arrived on the second-floor landing, searching the first of the two rooms
cluttered with barrels and crates. The place was empty so he moved on to the next.
A low crash reached Gabe before he entered the next room. He paused, finger on the trigger.
“Whoever’s in there come out with your hands up.”
A bullet rang out, whizzing past his head. “Fuck.” He darted behind a barrel and crouched low. Was
it Pagan shooting at him or had he ordered his people to take care of Gabe? The thought left a bitter
taste in his mouth.
The sound of gunshots died down. Running feet and shouts echoed from downstairs. He crept from
behind his hiding place, gun raised. Satisfied the area was clear, he took a step forward and froze.
Angelo Pagan and another man emerged from behind a door, assault rifles pointed at him. Gabe
ignored the other man, keeping his attention on Pagan.
“Pagan.”
Those eyes flickered. “Cop.” Something akin to regret washed over his face before he smoothed out
his features.
Gabe shook his head. “Pagan, don’t—” He didn’t hear the shot, but he felt the fiery burst of pain in his
left shoulder. His knees buckled and he went down. And out.
Six Weeks Later
“All done, mi hijo.”
Angelo tilted his head up with a smile. His mother released his hair and kissed his brow as she
stepped away.
“Gracias, Mama.”
A brief smile lit up her sad brown eyes, giving him hope. She may be coming out from under her
intense grief of losing Catarina. Their routine of his mother brushing his hair and pulling it into a
ponytail always relaxed him.
He pushed his chair away from the kitchen table and stood, grabbing his jacket. Under his mother’s
censoring stare, he shrugged on the heavy material and braced for the familiar argument.
“Angel, why do you continue like this?” Arms folded, she pronounced his name in the Spanish
version. At one point Liliana Pagan had been a gorgeous woman, but time and grief aged her rapidly.
Tiny lines bracketed her eyes and mouth, and her usually vibrant complexion was pallid and blotched.
All his doing. All a result of the pain and heartache he put her through.
Angelo walked over and took her in his arms. Her thin frame sagged in his hold.
“Mama, please.” He smoothed her salt-and-pepper hair, dropping kisses on her cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“Hijo.” She sniffed. “You dance with el diablo.”
Lips twisting, Angelo released her and stepped back. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.” But she
didn’t and he couldn’t blame her.
She jerked a nod and stood back, wringing her hands.
Angelo picked up his keys from the table, turning up the collar of his jacket as he walked out the
house.
On the motorcycle ride from his house in East New York to the gang headquarters in Sunset Park,
Angelo allowed himself the luxury of recalling stormy gray eyes and flushed cheeks.
Six weeks since they’d seen each other face-to-face, but he’d kept his eye on Detective Gabriel
Ashby from their first meeting in the 72nd’s interrogation room, to that night when it all went to hell.
He liked deluding himself into thinking the reason he kept such a close eye on the cop was because
Ashby was out to get him. No chance of that, so the real reason had to be because he couldn’t stop
thinking about the cop.
Not like the attraction that arced between the two of them would still exist after he shot Ashby.
Angelo had made himself available should the cops come to lock him up, but no one came looking.
No one came bursting through his doors.
Only one reason for that. The cop hadn’t told his people who shot him.
Through the heavy, biting winds lashing his face and neck, the heat of his attraction to the detective
infused his blood. The roar of the motorcycle between his legs vibrated against his cock and balls,
making his journey along the Belt Parkway difficult.
A cop.
He’d never fucked one, tending to stay as far away from the boys in blue as possible, but he wanted
Gabriel. He wanted that cop under him, bathed in sweat, writhing. Screaming.
Fuck. The damned cop didn’t look like a screamer, but wouldn’t it be fun to try at it?
He really didn’t need this on top of everything else on his plate. Very few people knew of his
sexuality—make that two. Catarina and his mother were the only two who knew. The only people he
trusted with his secret.
Sex was always a quick hook-up as far away from Sunset Park as possible. No way could the leader
of Los Pescadores be gay.
The forecasted freezing downpour began as he turned onto the block of the man he’d come to see.
Hidden behind a white delivery van and a red Ford Expedition, Angelo sat atop his bike and eyed the
house across the street. Rain fell like ice-tipped needles, stinging his face and eyes, soaking into his
jeans and running down his nape but he didn’t budge.
Manny Duarte lived in that house with his father and before the night was up, that bastard Manny
would be muerto. He’d signed his death warrant by killing Catarina, attempting to kill Gabe in the
warehouse raid was the fucking icing.
He swiped water from his eyes with a gloved hand. Except for the rain, the night was still. No cars
traveled down the one-way street at two in the morning.
No dogs barked, no babies cried.
He shivered under the cold, gritting his teeth. Some major warming up was in order once he finished
his business here. Gray eyes flashed in his mind.
Gabe.
Fuck. He missed the cop’s presence. All the nights Angelo had bribed the nurses on duty to give him
access to Gabe’s hospital room. All the times he drove past the man’s house out in Queens. Their
eyes met only twice, but it was a safe bet to say Angelo was obsessed with the cop and his lean body,
topped off with black, wavy hair.
He shook his head at himself. Patético.
Lights went out in the Duarte house. Angelo hopped off the Kawasaki, screwing the silencer onto his
Glock as he watched the front door. He blanked his mind, vision focused on the task at hand.
The door opened and Manny stepped out wearing an unzipped bubble jacket over a white t-shirt, dark
jeans sagging and white sneakers. As he descended the steps, Manny unlocked the black Dodge
Charger parked in front of his house with a remote starter.
Angelo took a deep breath, waiting until Manny got into his car before he ran across the street,
opened the passenger door and slid smoothly inside.
“Angel?” Manny used the Spanish version of his name, staring as Angelo pointed the Glock at him.
“Turn off the engine, Manny.”
“What are you doing, hermano?” Manny’s wide eyes jumped from the gun to Angelo’s face.
“I’m not your fucking brother, Manny,” Angelo grated. “Now turn off the engine.”
“Okay. Okay.” Manny did as told with jerky movements.
“Keep your hands on your lap.” Leaning forward, Angelo patted Manny’s waist, searching for
weapons. He found a .38 tucked in the small of his back and pulled it out.
“This is fucked, man.” Manny’s voice shook. “What are you doing?”
Angelo ignored him. “Any more guns I should know about?”
Manny pursed his lips, his jaw tightened. Angelo hit him in the mouth with the butt of the gun. A
sickening crack echoed as blood flew, dotting the driver’s side window. Manny’s head jerked back
as he groaned in pain.
“Let me make this clear, Manny.” Angelo brought their faces together. “You’re dying tonight. The
only choice you have is if it will be slow and painful, or quick and painless. You pick.”
Fear shined bright in Manny’s eyes as blood trickled down his chin. “¿Qué quieres?”
Angelo smiled. “I want to know who ordered the death of my sister.”
Manny gulped.
“Yes, I know you killed her. I’ve known since the day the cops questioned me.” Angelo lowered his
voice. “You see, I’ve been biding my time. Waiting. Planning your death.” He stuck the gun under
Manny’s quivering chin. “You should’ve known better than to think you’d ever get away with it.”
“Carlos ordered it,” Manny sobbed. “He wanted to send you a message.”
Angelo had suspected his uncle was responsible, but hearing it confirmed still shattered something
inside him he hadn’t known was still whole. His own flesh and blood. He kept his expression neutral.
“I want to believe you, Manny. I really do.”
“Es verdad. He wanted to push you over the edge then move in on the territory.” Manny swallowed.
“He hates you.”
That Angelo knew. He’d witnessed his uncle’s hatred firsthand at seventeen.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked Manny. “You could’ve come to me.” They’d grown up
together. He knew what Manny was capable of, yet he still felt betrayed.
Manny granted him an apologetic shrug. “It’s what I do, Angel. Business is business.”
“And I applaud your business acumen, but make no mistake, this right here?” Angelo motioned the gun
between them. “This is very personal. Especially when you tried to kill that cop.”
“¿Qué?”
“The cop you wanted to shoot so bad in the warehouse raid…él es mío.” He allowed his feelings for
Gabe to show in his eyes. Manny had to know all the reasons he’d die tonight.
Manny recoiled. His rapidly swelling jaw dropped as disgust filled his eyes. “Maricón.”
The gay slur was an expected reaction, one Angelo didn’t at all take personally. He moved the gun’s
muzzle from Manny’s chin and pressed it to the bastard’s forehead with a smile. “Sí.” He pulled the
trigger.
* * * * *
Gabe shivered as the frigid January air penetrated his buttoned-up coat and sank into his bones.
Flipping up his collar with one gloved hand, he tightened his grip on the six-pack of beer. One of the
coldest winters on record in New York and he had to walk to the corner store.
Fresh air, my ass. Two days since he stepped out of his house and he was in serious danger of
becoming a human popsicle. The still-healing scar on his left shoulder throbbed, exacerbated no
doubt by the cold and his stupid decision to help Trish pack.
He grunted, puffing out a cloudy breath. Took her long enough to walk away. He knew she stayed
only because of his injury, but her parting words still rang in his ears.
Afraid of intimacy.
Alcoholic.
Gabe took much affront to that last statement. Then and now.
Shoving his hand in his pocket, he hunched his shoulders and ignored the twinge of pain.
He was no alcoholic. He drank to forget. At least he tried to, but the memories wouldn’t leave him
alone. That face still invaded his dreams, still made him want.
Still made him need.
Not an option. Never will be.
He trudged up the stairs to his house and fitted the key into the lock with frozen fingers. The instant he
stepped through the door, the hairs on his nape shot up. He
blinked in the darkness, keeping the lights off as he reached inside his coat pocket and grasped the
cool butt of his SIG, his personal piece.
Standing with his back against the closed door, he waited, quieting his breathing. Nothing moved.
Had he imagined the presence of someone else? He’d been on edge since the shooting—hell, even
before that. Since I questioned him.
Damn it.
He wasn’t supposed to think about that. About him.
Gabe kept his grip on the SIG, not entirely convinced he was imagining things.
Bending over, he placed the beer at his feet carefully, flicking on the light as he straightened.
“Took you long enough.”
No. Gabe gulped in a lungful of air. Angelo Pagan leaned against the archway leading into his living
room, arms crossed, relaxed sensuality oozing from his every pore. Clad in head-to-toe black, the
man looked like the sexiest freaking burglar ever.
Gabe’s feet were moving before he realized his intentions. Grabbing Pagan by the throat, he slammed
him into the wall and pressed the gun under his chin.
“Why the fuck are you in my house?” The too-familiar musk of spice and heat hit his nose.
“Watch where you put that gun.”
Gabe’s knees weakened at the lazy drawl. The man he’d been trying so hard to forget was in his arms.
He pulled off the black wool cap covering Pagan’s head and watched in starved fascination as long
dark hair tumbled over his wide shoulders.
“Pagan.” Wincing at the hoarseness in his voice, Gabe cleared his throat. Long, curled lashes
fluttered, lifted. Those expressive brown eyes met his and he bit the inside of his cheek.
“Cop.”
One word and Gabe was back inside that interrogation room.
“Why are you here?” He ignored the needy cock twitching between his legs and kept hold of the gun
with a not-so-steady grip.
Those eyes held him captive. He couldn’t look away, he didn’t want to even as the voice in the back
of his mind demanded he run.
“Lose the SIG, amado.”
Gabe blinked. Ama-who? “No.”
Pagan smiled and Gabe had no problems breaking eye contact then. He dropped his gaze to those lips
curved just so and bit back a groan. God, the many times he’d lain awake next to Trish imagining
ways to abuse those lips, that mouth.
“Gabe.”
He jerked his gaze back to Pagan’s eyes. Shit. Shouldn’t have.
“Six weeks is way too long, amado.” Pagan rocked into him, his arousal bumping Gabe’s.
Gabe closed his eyes on a hiss. Heat crawled up his spine. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”
“Dios, cop.” Pagan touched him; warm fingers dipped under Gabe’s collar and brushed his nape.
He shivered.
“Look at me.”
His eyes flew open at the harsh command. Pagan stared him down, nostrils flared.
“You’re drinking too much.” Concern flashed across Pagan’s face before he smoothed it away. “You
can’t numb it with alcohol.”
Jesus. Gabe’s eyes stung. “Why the hell are you here? Go away.” The gun he still held trembled
violently.
Pagan’s expression grew serious. Sad. “I’m here making sure you’re all right. Making sure you’re not
in pain.” His lips twisted. “Physically.”
“And why the fuck do you care?” Gabe shot back. “You tried to freaking kill me.”
“¡Idiota!” The fingers at Gabe’s neck tightened. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be breathing
right now.” He jerked his chin toward Gabe’s wounded shoulder. “That bullet saved your life. I
saved your life.”
Gabe snorted. “Yeah. Whatever.”
“Listen to me, cop.” Pagan leaned forward, bringing their faces mere inches apart. “I need you alive. I
need you breathing.” He took in a breath then let it out in a rush. “I need you.”
Gabe wanted to run as far away as he could from those eyes reflecting his needs back at him, but
more than that he wanted to taste the man in his arms.
He wanted so bad and so fierce.
“Lose the gun, cop.”
Gabe followed the slow movement of his own hand as he lowered the gun. He tucked it into the small
of his back before meeting Pagan’s eyes. The cold air disappeared, replaced with flames licking at
his skin.
“Pagan.” He growled the name as he shuffled closer. Pagan grabbed his lapels and pulled him in even
tighter.
Gabe lifted a trembling hand and did what he’d wanted to from day one—he slid his fingers through
Pagan’s thick hair. The soft strands wrapped around his fingers like silk.
Pagan shuddered. Gabe cupped his jaw. The short hairs of his stubble pricked his palm.
“I’m not…” He licked his lips. Pagan’s eyes dilated. “I’ve never…I’m not gay.” If he hadn’t been
losing himself in those gold eyes he’d have missed their slight widening.
Pagan shifted away, out of his hold, and Gabe never felt emptier.
Alone.
“Mierda.” Pagan shoved his fingers through his hair. “I…you…” Anguish bled from his eyes and
roughened his voice. He turned away.
“Angelo.” Gabe grabbed his arm. Electricity crackled and popped at the skin-onskin contact.
“Please.”
“You don’t want this, right? So let me go, cop.” Pagan’s gaze flicked down to where Gabe held him.
“Let me go.”
Gabe swallowed. “I can’t.” He tightened his hold on the thick wrist. “I can’t.” The thought of
watching Pagan walk away, of never seeing him again, punctured something in his chest. But what
would be the result of him staying? Could he be with a man, this man?
“Qué quieres, Gabe? What do you want?”
His name on Pagan’s lips sounded so good. So right. Gabe looked at him, trying but failing to find
words.
“Damn it, Gabe.” Pagan wrenched out of his hold and grabbed his shoulders. “Tell me what you
want.”
“To kiss you.” The words tumbled from his lips, harsher than he intended. “Just once. To know what
it’s like. What you taste like.”
Pagan’s eyes darkened.
“Maybe then I’ll be able to forget you.”
Pagan arched an eyebrow and stepped forward. “You think it’s that simple?”
Gabe held his ground. “Yeah.”
“So do it.” They stood chest to chest. Pagan’s warm breath caressed Gabe’s forehead when he said
softly, “Kiss me, cop. Then try to forget me.”
Gabe grabbed him by the neck, yanking him down. Their lips clashed, hard and hot. He thrust his
tongue inside when Pagan opened. There was no describing the unique taste of man and need as Pagan
growled into his mouth. Nothing feminine about the tongue parrying with his or the fingers gripping
his ass.
Nothing repulsive either. Just right and…Angelo.
Between their bodies pressed so tightly together—when did that happen?—his cock lengthened and
wept, aching. He grunted, fingers sliding into Pagan’s hair and anchoring as he rocked into the other
man’s erection. He stroked his tongue over Pagan’s teeth and tongue, searching deep, needing more of
that taste. That indescribable taste of Angelo Pagan he was quickly getting drunk on.
Their hips rocked into each other, cocks straining, rubbing as he inserted a thigh between Pagan’s
legs. Pagan shuddered, his body arching as he moved on Gabe’s thigh, his movements fluid and
sensual.
The panic Gabe thought would set in at the other man’s touch, his kiss, never did. Six weeks he’d
dreamt of this, wondered if he was losing his mind, and nothing felt as natural as the slide of Pagan’s
tongue over his or the sensation of his fingers sinking into his ass cheeks. All the pain and betrayal of
the past six weeks faded to a dull memory in the background.
The friction of jeans and thighs against his cock felt so good. He deepened the kiss, teeth clinking,
writhing on Pagan as his balls grew heavier and the base of his spine itched.
From a kiss.
Pagan tore his mouth away. “Fuck!” His chest heaved.
“Oh my God.” Gabe didn’t recognize the words falling from his lips. They sounded wrecked,
ravaged. Like his insides. Staring at Pagan’s lips, red and glistening from his kisses, he couldn’t catch
his breath. He curled his hands into fists and rocked back on his heels with his eyes squeezed shut.
Rough fingers palmed his throat. “Can you forget that, amante?” Soft kisses brushed his forehead,
nose and eyes. “I can’t. I dare you to try.” Pagan moved away, taking his heat with him.
Gabe didn’t open his eyes until he heard his front door close.
Chapter Two
A week.
Gabe grunted and scrubbed his skin harder. Seven whole days and not a word, not a sight. He didn’t
know who he was angrier at—Pagan for getting his hopes up, or himself for wishing, praying Pagan
would show.
The warm shower soothed his aching joints after his daily session of physical therapy, but the ache in
his groin remained. Nowadays all thoughts of the gorgeous man only brought shivers and goose
bumps.
His cock jerked.
He refused to freak out, refused to feel bad for wanting Pagan. The kiss the other night felt too right,
too real. The only fly in the ointment was what Pagan was.
A criminal.
Try as he might, Gabe couldn’t ignore that fact.
He paid no heed to his semi-hard cock, finishing up his shower. His stomach growled, he needed
food, but he wanted a beer. Having restrained from imbibing for the past three days, he figured Pagan
wasn’t around to see him indulge.
It wasn’t lost on him that he’d done exactly as Pagan commanded and stayed away from the sauce. He
turned off the shower with a muttered curse.
“I need to stop thinking about him.”
His physical therapist, Desmond, had even noticed Gabe’s preoccupation and commented on his lack
of focus over the past few sessions. He should be worried about passing the firearm test to get his job
and gun reinstated, not lusting after the leader of Los Pescadores.
Gabe walked naked to his bedroom, a towel around his neck, and pulled on a pair of jeans, leaving
them unbuttoned as the water on his skin chilled. The orange-red glow of the setting sun filtered
through his window blinds, the clear sky giving the impression of a warm summer day instead of a
mid-January freeze-out.
He removed the towel from around his neck and dropped it at the foot of the bed before hesitating.
Trish hated when he did that. He bent to pick up the damp towel then thought better of it and walked
out the room with a shrug.
Trish wasn’t there anymore. He could do whatever he wanted.
His stomach growled again, louder this time, as he entered the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge door
and frowned. Beer, mustard, water and three-day-old Chinese.
Gotta get some food up in this damn place. He grabbed a beer and nudged the fridge closed with a
hip.
“What did I say about the beer?”
His heart lurched and his fingers tightened around the can of Bud. Mentally ordering his twitching
cock to calm the fuck down, he wiped the smile hovering over his lips and turned.
Angelo stood in his kitchen doorway, wearing a tan motorcycle jacket over a black sweater tucked
into dark jeans, and boots. A thick silver chain, secured by his belt loops, hung on his right side. His
blue Yankee cap was pulled low over eyes covered with dark glasses.
“Haven’t you ever heard of a door? Are you adding breaking and entering to your repertoire?”
Pagan inched closer with a smile. “Will you be turning me in?” He removed his hand from behind
his back and held up a green shopping bag. The most delicious smell emanated from within.
“What do you have there?” A loud rumble from Gabe’s stomach punctuated his question.
“Mi madre made you enchiladas.”
Holy mother of— “What?” Gabe gulped. “Your mother knows?” His mother?
“Sí.” Pagan placed the bag on the counter along with his sunglasses and crowded Gabe. Intense
golden-brown eyes focused on him. “You look scared, cop.”
Shitless. Gabe inhaled. “This isn’t a good idea.” The repercussions would be lifeshattering.
“What’s not a good idea?” Pagan touched the tip of Gabe’s nose with a finger then traced his lips
softly.
Gabe swallowed. His prick swelled.
“It’s not a good idea to want me, cop?” Pagan nuzzled his neck and Gabe’s eyes fluttered closed as he
prayed for strength.
Goose bumps blanketed his skin.
“Is it a bad idea to want to fuck me?” Pagan licked his earlobe, weakening his knees, and then slid his
tongue down to where his neck and shoulder met. “Or for me to fuck you?” Teeth sank into his skin.
Gabe growled and bucked. The can of beer in his hand sloshed over his fingers and onto his chest.
Pagan pulled away, dragging his tongue over the liquid on Gabe’s naked chest. A tiny trail of beer
slid down his stomach and Pagan chased after it.
“Fuck!” Gabe threw his head back, shuddering at the wet heat of Pagan’s kisses.
Fingers fumbled at his crotch, grazing his painful erection as Pagan unzipped him slowly. He looked
down. The cap obscured Pagan’s face, so he placed the beer on the counter behind him and snatched
the offending hat off.
Molten eyes stared up at him as sure fingers grabbed his erection and squeezed.
“Pagan.”
A dark flush covered the other man’s cheekbones. Pupils dilated, lips parted, he dropped to his knees
and tugged Gabe’s throbbing dick.
“You’re wet, cop.” Pagan’s voice was deep, gravelly. “Let me lick you dry.”
A thumb brushed over Gabe’s slit, smearing pre-cum around his crown. He locked his knees and
cupped Pagan’s jaw. Angelo Pagan, the most wanted man in Brooklyn— hell, in all of New York—
was about to suck his cock.
God. His eyes burned. “Angelo.” He whispered the name.
The man on his knees stroked him steadily while staring into his eyes. “Cop.” He licked his lips.
Gabe mimicked the gesture. “Yes.” He watched through his lashes as Pagan bent and took him to the
back of his throat with one swallow.
“God!” Gabe held on to the counter for balance.
Pagan sucked him greedily, his tongue flicking over and dipping into his slit. Gabe thrust into his
mouth, grunting at the wet slide of tongue and the tiny graze of teeth. His heavy balls ached, fire
singed his skin.
“Please. Pagan.”
Pagan stroked while he sucked, moaning around Gabe’s cock. The vibrations shook him. He held his
balance with one hand, the other he used to grab the back of Pagan’s head, moving it up and down on
him.
“Your mouth,” he babbled. “Wet. Hot.”
Cool fingers cupped his balls, fondling as Pagan’s mouth disappeared. “Cop.”
Gabe stilled his movements and stared down at him. He hadn’t realized until that moment—the word
was an endearment from Pagan to him, loaded with emotion and all things best left unsaid. His throat
tightened.
“Put your leg on my shoulder.” Pagan punctuated his command by sliding his thumb across the ridge
on the underside of Gabe’s crown.
His breath faltered. He did as he’d been ordered to and draped his left leg over Pagan’s right
shoulder. The man dove in, taking first one then the other of Gabe’s balls into his mouth, rolling his
tongue over it and sucking.
“Fucker.” Gabe panted. “You’re killing me.”
In response, his lover flicked his tongue over the area between balls and ass.
Gabe’s entire body clenched. His chest constricted. Pagan nuzzled his balls then pushed his stiffened
tongue into Gabe’s fluttering hole.
He hissed. Fingers sank into his ass cheeks and pulled them apart. He tipped his head to the heavens
and squeezed his eyes shut as Pagan worked his hole, licking, sucking until the muscle relaxed, then
thrusting inside.
His body clamped down on the intrusion as Gabe circled his cock and pumped. “Shit. Shit.” He
couldn’t think. Should he be needing this, welcoming this so much?
A finger pushed into him, sinking deep and touching something electric inside him. He cried out, body
jerking as his grip on his cock faltered.
Another finger pushed inside. Then another. Three digits sank deep, stretching, burning. The pain
brought pleasure and he welcomed it, contracting around those fingers with a guttural moan.
“Cop.” Pagan groaned. “Fuck, you’re so goddamned tight.”
Gabe looked down, holding Pagan’s heavy-lidded gaze as he tightened his grip on the counter. Then
he lifted off those fingers stretching him so wide and sank back down, treacherously slow.
A plaintive moan fell from his lips. Pagan hissed. The fingers inside him flexed. Gabe lifted off again
and slammed down this time.
“God.” His eyes watered at the burn, but he repeated the movement. This time Pagan thrust up as he
bore down, pegging that place inside him. “God.” Stars blinded him as the orgasm hit, swamping his
senses.
He writhed on Pagan’s fingers, ass clenching wildly.
“Fuck. Fuck.”
Pagan didn’t stop, he kept massaging and pressing that sweet spot as streams of cum shot from Gabe.
“Sí, amado. Give it to me.”
Gabe’s lungs burned as he rode the climax until those magic fingers slipped from him. He lowered his
stiff leg from Pagan’s shoulder. His lover remained on his knees, head bowed.
Gabe sank to the floor and hauled him into his arms. “Pagan.” Sinking his hands into Pagan’s hair,
Gabe tilted his head back. “What are we doing? What are we doing?”
“What do you think we’re doing?” Angelo sat on the floor, back against the cupboards, and pulled the
bag of food off the table. Without looking at Gabe, he reached inside and took out the foil-wrapped
enchiladas.
Gabe’s legs felt like wet noodles so he mimicked Angelo, sitting next to him, ass out. The cold tiles
shocked his skin for a quick second, but soon warmed to his body heat. He’d just gotten the best head
ever, from a man. From Angelo Pagan. He wanted more. He wanted to touch and taste and do all the
things Angelo’s lips and eyes promised.
“Here.”
Angelo handed him one of the enchiladas and he took it, ignoring the slight tremble in his hand. His
limbs felt foreign. Shit, he felt foreign. All these emotions, he didn’t know what to do with them.
They sat side by side in silence, Angelo fully clothed, Gabe’s lower half bare, eating the food Angelo
brought, taking turns sipping on his lukewarm Bud. The silence wrapped around them, light and
comforting. He was at ease. They both were.
“So, your mom, huh?” He licked his lips and glanced at Pagan sideways. A smile curved the mouth
that destroyed him with pleasure moments before.
“Yeah. Mi mama, she’s cool peeps.” Angelo met his eyes, his gold gaze smiling. Warm.
Gabe found himself smiling back, leaning forward to drown deeper in those eyes. “You told her about
me? Why?”
“There are very few things I keep from my mother.” Angelo grew serious. “You’re not someone I will
ever hide from her.”
Gabe’s heart lurched inside his chest. This man. This man was doing something to him and he didn’t
want it stopped. “Who else knows you prefer men?” He couldn’t imagine many people did, else that
would have made its way into Angelo’s file at the station. Harsh realities awaited someone like him
out there on the streets, so obviously alpha and Hispanic, if many people knew his sexual preference.
Angelo took a long drink of the beer. Gabe couldn’t tear his gaze away from the hypnotic slide of his
Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
“Two people knew. Not counting you, now only one does.” Bitterness laced those words. He referred
to his sister. “Let’s talk about you.” Pagan turned the full heat of his gaze on Gabe. “What happened to
the woman you were living with?”
“Trish?” Gabe raised an eyebrow when Angelo nodded. “Do I want to know how you know about
her?”
Angelo shrugged. “I hung around the hospital after I shot you. She was always there.”
“I drove her off.” Gabe turned away. “She didn’t deserve the shit I put her through these last few
weeks. She left a week ago, but we were over long before that.”
“Why were you over?” Warm, rough fingers gripped his chin and turned his head.
He met the open curiosity in Angelo’s eyes.
“What shit did you put her through, Gabe?”
“I-I…” Confession time. He wanted to say it out loud, put it out there. “She wanted to make plans for
our future. Kids. Marriage. The whole set.”
Angelo’s eyes flashed. “What did you want?”
“You.”
Dark lashes dipped then lifted, the same feelings imprinted in Angelo’s stare. Gabe dropped his gaze
to those lips.
“Kiss me,” he whispered. Because he was addicted. He needed and Angelo was there to supply.
Firm lips covered his, light, brushing. He grabbed Angelo’s t-shirt and pulled him in closer,
deepening the kiss with a growl. Tongues lashed around each other, curling, tasting. There among the
food and beer, he found the taste he craved. Uniquely Angelo. Sliding his hand down Angelo’s front,
he traced the hem of the t-shirt then lifted, knuckles sliding across the tight skin of his stomach.
Angelo’s breath hitched and Gabe smiled into the kiss. He couldn’t walk away from this if his life
depended on it, and it did. He’d never known a need like the one crawling through his blood existed.
He’d never experienced a heat like the inferno threatening to engulf him. He wanted to be burned. To
go up in flames.
Because Angelo would be with him.
He broke the kiss. “Take off your shirt.”
Angelo searched his gaze, lust covering his eyes, his cheeks flushed dark. “Amado, you don’t—” He
swallowed. “You don’t have to do this.”
A grin spread across Gabe’s face as he eyed the erection straining against Angelo’s jeans. “But I
want to. I need to.” He’d never seen another naked man this close and this personal, never wanted to
until now. He grabbed Angelo’s t-shirt and pulled it up. “Let me see you. I want to touch you.”
A muscle flexed in Angelo’s jaw as he sat upright and pulled the piece of clothing over his head and
threw it to the side.
Muscles. A warm toasty gold, hard and warm. Gabe stared at the wide expanse of Angelo’s chest and
gulped. His cock throbbed and stirred, awakening at the sight of all that flesh. Angelo’s flesh. He
wasn’t bulky, but muscular and hard. Tattoos in the Los P colors—green, red and blue—gang
symbols and foreign text covered both his arms from shoulder to wrist. Gabe made out the names of
Angelo’s sister and father along with dates.
His sculpted chest was smooth, his two dark nipples pierced with tiny silver rings. He was sitting,
but Gabe licked his lips, gaze sliding over Angelo’s six-pack and following the dark hairs of his
treasure trail as it disappeared down the front of his jeans.
“You’re…” What word would best describe the beauty of the man before him? “You look really
good.” Anything else would’ve made him sound like a girl, a gushing girl. The heat of a blush flashed
over his face as Angelo grinned.
“You’re quite the looker yourself, cop.” He winked.
Gabe brushed the tip of his right index over the left nipple ring. Angelo arched. Sounds rumbled in his
chest as his lashes drooped. Gabe grew bolder. Hooking his pinky in the ring, he tugged.
“Ugh, amado.” Angelo fisted his hands where they lay on his lap. He opened his eyes. “Touch me,
Gabe.”
Gabe did. He smoothed his other palm over Angelo’s chest and down his stomach, heartbeat frantic,
breathing through his mouth as Angelo moved with him, arching into each swipe of his hand, each tug
of the nipple ring. Hungry. He moved as if he’d been starved for touch.
Gabe dipped his fingers into the waistband of Angelo’s jeans. “When was the last time you had this?”
“I’ve never had this.” Angelo’s eyes were closed again.
“You’ve never been touched like this?” Gabe couldn’t hide the incredulity in his voice. “You’re
Angelo Pagan, if you want to be touched you will be.” He squeezed the bulge in his hand.
Angelo looked at him then, eyes heavy-lidded and dark with lust. “Too risky. I go far, far away and
even then I don’t lie around to be touched.” He bucked into Gabe’s palm, the hard length of him
throbbing and hot. “I fuck then I leave. I don’t get fucked or touched.”
“I’m fucking you.” The words flew out of his mouth before they finished forming in his brain and
Gabe didn’t want to take them back. A thrill shot down his spine as Angelo regarded him steadily.
“Sí, amado.” He rotated his hips, shuddering under Gabe’s hold. “Sí, you’ll be fucking me.”
God. Gabe swore he had an orgasm right then. Leaning over Angelo, he flicked his tongue over a
nipple ring then sat back on his haunches. “Good. Now we need to talk. Serious stuff. About us.”
“Is there an us, amado?” Angelo sat upright, muscles flexing, the tattoos on his arms dancing.
Gabe eyed him. “Dunno. Do you want there to be an us?” Suddenly he felt as if he were back in high
school, negotiating dating rights with the snotty high school cheerleader.
Gabe cupped his cheek. “Depends. Tell me. Tell me what you want.” He needed to hear those words.
They both had to acknowledge how shitty things could get for them. Ground rules needed to be set.
God, he was either about to make the best or stupidest decision of his life.
“Gabe.”
He met Angelo’s eyes.
“I want what you want. From that first time to now, nothing’s changed. I want you.”
There was power in those words. They made his heart soar and his chest pound. He swore he heard
his blood rushing through his veins. Was he having an out-of-body experience? He cleared his throat,
staring into those eyes that held him captive from first glance. “You have me.”
He crawled atop Angelo, his heavy cock becoming trapped between their bodies as he wrapped his
arms around Angelo’s naked shoulders. Capturing Angelo’s face in his hands, he brought their
foreheads together. “You have me. Don’t lose me.”
Angelo cupped his ass, rocking into him, and tilted his face up. Gabe took his mouth, tongue plunging
in fast, desperate, hungry. He kissed the man in his arms as if he were possessed, claiming Angelo’s
lips as his, taking as Angelo gave, giving as Angelo took. They writhed on each other as Angelo held
him tight, hips jerking.
Angelo tore his mouth away. “Gabe, I’m…I gotta…” Blunt fingers dug into his ass, holding tight as
Angelo ground up.
His climax.
“Yes, do it,” Gabe whispered the words as he reached between them and tugged a nipple ring. Hard.
“Argh!” Angelo arched. “Gabe.”
“Yes,” Gabe urged him on as he twisted both nipples. “Come for me. Let me see you do it.”
A guttural moan filled the room. Angelo’s eyes flew open and he held Gabe’s stare as his hips rocked
faster and faster. His pupils were dilated, nostrils flared.
“Come for me.”
Angelo came with a muffled shout, eyes on Gabe as hot seed soaked through Angelo’s jeans and
warmed Gabe.
He waited until Angelo’s chest quit heaving before he dropped a kiss on his parted lips and said,
“We still have more things to discuss.”
Angelo grunted, shifting on the floor. “Can’t remember the last time I came in my jeans.”
Gabe shouldn’t feel proud or smug but he did. He chuckled. “Lots of firsts, huh?”
Angelo paused in the process of fixing his cock in his jeans and nodded. “In more ways than one.”
Gabe pulled his jeans back on, easing them over his semi and zipping up. He got up from the floor and
pulled the remaining Bud from the fridge. Shrugging at Angelo’s raised eyebrows, he sat back down,
legs crossed. “Thought we could use some liquid courage.” At least he did.
“What do you want to talk about?”
He found he couldn’t look at Angelo right then. Pulling a can of beer from the pack, he held on to it,
kept his gaze on it. “Why did you shoot me?”
Silence filled the space between them. Gabe refused to look up, to meet Angelo’s eyes. He didn’t
know why he dreaded the answer to that question. What if he’d made a mistake? His heart pounded in
his ears as he waited for a response from Angelo.
“Gabe.”
He flinched. Had Angelo intended to kill him that night?
“Damn it, look at me.” Angelo grabbed his chin and forced his head up.
Their eyes met, gazes clung to each other.
“Do you think I set out to shoot you that night?” Angelo’s narrowed eyes sparked a furious golden
anger.
“I don’t know what I think.” Gabe swallowed. “I thought, even though the situation wasn’t ideal when
we met at the precinct I thought we’d connected somehow.”
Angelo nodded.
“Then you shoot me, point blank.” Gabe’s voice turned accusing, but he couldn’t help it. “What am I
supposed to think?”
Angelo released his chin and sighed. Moving close so they were facing each other, he raised serious
eyes to Gabe. “I meant what I told you before, if I wanted you dead you’d be dead. I saved your life.”
Gabe frowned. “How? Explain it to me. Make me understand.” Because right now he was
floundering, trying to grasp Angelo’s logic.
Angelo raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the dark strands sticking out at odd angles. “That
guy I was with at the warehouse—Manny—we grew up together. He’d recently come back to the
neighborhood and was hanging with me, trying to get me to let him join the gang. He’s a hothead, acts
before he thinks, but he does some wet work here and there.”
Wet work, code for killing.
“Manny wanted to prove he could be an asset to me.” Angelo kept his voice low, but Gabe detected
the anger he held tightly reined. “I wanted him to leave me there and go, but he wanted to kill a cop.”
He met Gabe’s eyes. “I’m a lot of things, but I don’t kill cops. That brings a shitload of trouble I just
don’t need. I told him no, but you followed us upstairs and he wanted to kill you. My cop.”
Naked emotion burned in Angelo’s gaze. Gabe reached out, grasped his shoulder and squeezed.
“Angelo.”
“He wanted to shoot you, would have shot you if I wasn’t there.” Angelo’s voice shook. “Do you
have any idea what that thought does to me? I wasn’t supposed to be there that night.” He fisted his
hands.
Gabe took his fists, stroking them until Angelo relaxed. “Where were you supposed to be?”
A flicker of a smile curved Angelo’s lips. “With Piper Espinoza getting my dick sucked.”
Gabe frowned at the hot lance of jealousy shooting through his insides. He didn‘t want to think about
Angelo and anybody else. “Wait, if you’re gay why are you getting head from a woman?”
“I can close my eyes and be somewhere else,” Angelo said. “With someone else. That is as far as it
goes. I don’t sleep with women and yes, I realize I’m a prick.”
Gabe couldn’t judge him. That was his cover, his way to keep his secret safe. “Why were you at the
warehouse?”
Angelo’s face shuttered. “A tip.”
Gabe shied away from asking who the tipster was. Already he felt himself wading in way-too-deep
waters. “So you were right. You saved my life.” He cupped Angelo’s jaw, marveling at how natural
all this felt. Talking with Angelo, touching him, felt right.
Good.
“I had to pull my trigger before him and trust me, he wasn’t aiming for your shoulder.” Angelo twisted
his fingers around Gabe’s. “I’m sorry for that.” He brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed
it.
“I understand,” Gabe said softly. “Thank you.”
Angelo smiled. “Now you answer something for me. Why didn’t you turn me in?”
Yes, why? “I kept replaying that look in your eyes right before you pulled the trigger.” He brushed his
thumb over Angelo’s bottom lip. “Regret. You were sorry. I saw it but didn’t know why.”
“I tried explaining it to you in the hospital but you were heavily sedated.”
“I heard your voice.” Gabe barked a laugh. “At the time, I was so angry at you. At me. I thought, even
through the fog of drugs you were still uppermost in my mind. Tormenting me even in my dreams.”
Angelo grinned. “What did you hear me say?”
Gabe sobered and licked his lips. “You needed me to open my eyes. You said you needed me awake
for all the shit you were gonna put me through.”
The smile slipped off Angelo’s face. “I meant it. This is going to be hard, amado. You and me—” He
shook his head. “I don’t know how we do it.”
“We need rules.”
A dark eyebrow shot up. “Rules, huh?”
“I’m serious, Angelo. No talking cop or gang-related stuff.” Gabe ticked items off on his fingers.
“When we’re together, wherever we are, it’s just Gabe and Angelo. No other labels, just us.”
Angelo’s eyes were somber when he asked, “You think it’s that easy?”
“Yes.” Gabe bit his lip. “And that complicated.”
Angelo opened his mouth, but a ringing cell phone stayed his words. He dug around in his jeans,
pulled a phone from his back pocket and answered with an apologetic smile at Gabe.
“¿Sí?” he barked into the phone.
Gabe sat back, attention caught by the gentle sway of Angelo’s hair as he hauled himself up off the
floor and fixed his clothes.
“What the fuck happened?” Angelo held his cell to his ear with his right shoulder as he used his free
hands to gather his hair at his nape and secure it in a ponytail. “Mierda. I’ll be there in a few and
Pablo, heads are gonna fucking roll, you got me?” He ended the call and looked down at Gabe.
“Lo siento. I’ve gotta go.”
Gabe nodded. “I heard.” This side of Angelo, the violent gangster side, he didn’t know if he would be
able to deal with it. How do I deal with it?
Angelo stuck out a hand to help Gabe up and he took it, rising to his feet. Angelo yanked him into his
arms, taking his mouth greedily. Gabe groaned and rubbed against him, opening his mouth to slide
tongue against tongue. Angelo held him tightly, thrusting deep into his mouth, teeth nipping at him.
Gabe tunneled his fingers through Angelo’s hair, rocking his erection against Angelo’s until the other
man broke them apart and stepped away.
Chests heaving, they stared each other down. Angelo’s lips glistened and Gabe licked his own, tasting
him. He wanted to launch himself back into Angelo’s arms, rub against him until they both forgot
themselves, their roles, until it was only the two of them.
He didn’t want him to leave.
From the look on Angelo’s face, he didn’t want to go either.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow,” Angelo said.
Gabe frowned. “What, like out there?” He waved a hand at the window. “In public?” Did Angelo
want to go out with him? Could they without jeopardizing themselves?
The heat in Angelo’s stare cooled instantly. “You don’t want to go out with me?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “None of that, okay? I want to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t want
to be hidden away, but we need to be smart. Where can we go?”
The blinding smile was back on Angelo’s face. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” He
grabbed Gabe’s hand and tugged him along as he made his way to the back door.
Don’t worry. Hah, easy for him to say. Gabe unlatched the back door and pushed it open. A blast of
cold air slapped him in the face. “Shit, goddamn cold.”
Angelo chuckled as he put back on his Yankee cap and sunglasses. “I’ll get you at eight tomorrow
evening, cool?”
“Cool.” Gabe nodded.
“Oh and give me your number.” Angelo pulled out a phone from his jacket pocket, different from the
one he’d answered earlier. The last one was black, this one was blue.
“Two phones?”
“One’s business.” He held up the blue phone. “This one’s personal, only my mother has this number.”
“And now me.”
“And now you.”
Gabe grabbed his phone off the kitchen countertop and they exchanged numbers. He saved Angelo’s
number under the contact name A.
“All right, I gotta go, cop. I’ll see you tomorrow. Feel free to use that number anytime. For anything.”
Gabe smiled. “Same.”
Angelo searched his gaze then kissed him again, hard and bruising and way too short before he turned,
jogged down the back stairs and disappeared.
Chapter Three
Angelo rubbed his knuckles over gritty eyes and stared through the glass at the body lying on a
slab in the sterile room.
“Do you recognize him, sir?” The elderly gentleman with world-weary eyes and a salt-and-pepper
handlebar mustache waited patiently at his elbow. Maury, his name tag said. Maury, who worked in
the morgue.
“Yes.” His voice cracked and he had to swallow and try again. “Yes, his name is Auggie, uh, August
de Souza, but everyone knows him as Auggie.” A loyal soldier who Angelo had never seen use
anything stronger than weed, but word on the street had the skinny, talkative Auggie ODing.
On what?
No drugs. No drugs in his territory, on his streets. A rule he’d never bend on, so why was this
happening? He turned away from the body, head filled with questions, and walked out the room. He
had to tell Auggie’s mother, Sonia. He was her youngest, but brought home the lion’s share of the
money in that house, Angelo knew that. Just like he knew everything about his soldiers.
What he didn’t know was how drugs made it onto his streets, but he’d find out. A clock ticked
somewhere nearby, loud in the unnatural quiet surrounding him. He glanced up and looked around.
Nine-forty-five in the morning. He hadn’t yet made it home, to his bed. Straight from the peace and
rightness of Gabe to this madness.
Cops flocking around, questioning everyone, making everybody nervous. His people wanting
answers. He had none.
He wanted sleep and food.
He wanted to be back in Gabe’s arms where shit like this couldn’t intrude. But here on the streets he
had no buffer, he was the leader, el jefe, and had to lead even when he didn’t know where the fuck
things were headed.
His business phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out as he walked out the coroner’s office and
back into the blinding sun and bitter-cold wind. “Sí.”
“Boss, you ready?”
“Yeah, I’m out front,” he told his second-in-command. Pablo was his driver today, had been since
Angelo showed up at the scene last night.
“I’m parked around the corner, in front of the nail salon. Had to move.”
“I’m coming.” Angelo ended the call, shoved the phone back into his jacket pocket and jogged around
the corner, head bowed against the wind. His gut twisted as he concentrated on his next stop,
Auggie’s mother’s house.
Bearer of bad news.
The blame lay on his shoulders because even if he hadn’t provided the drugs, he put Auggie out there
on the streets, his streets.
He reached the black Escalade and the passenger door opened from within. Angelo hopped inside,
brushing his hoodie off his head and pulling off the dark sunglasses as Pablo pulled away from the
curb.
“It was Auggie.” The three words fell from his lips like stones, dropping into the SUV.
“Son of a bitch.” Pablo pounded the steering wheel. “How? Why?”
Angelo stared out through the windshield. “They’re saying he OD’d, but they’re not sure on what.”
“What?” Pablo sputtered. “OD’d on what? There are no drugs in Los Pescadores territory.”
Angelo grunted. “Seems that’s no longer the case, amigo.” His fisted his hands. “I have to tell another
mother she’s outlived her child, Pablo. This shit cannot continue. I want to know where the fuck those
drugs, whatever they are, came from. Put everybody to work.”
As Pablo pulled to a stop in front of Auggie’s mother’s house, Angelo spoke softly, “Tell them to start
with mi tío.”
* * * * *
Angelo pushed his way through the doors of his mother’s house, dead on his feet, Auggie’s
mother’s words still ringing in his head. He couldn’t fault her for the harsh, tear-filled curses, she
was right.
He was to blame. His neighborhood, how could he not know the goings-on? He tore off his jacket,
throwing it on the couch as he walked through the living room. His mother wasn’t home in the middle
of the day, else she’d be scolding him for that act. He made his way to the living room as his stomach
growled, but he ignored it, rummaging through the cupboards until he found the prize he sought.
The bottle of Jim Beam was still new, but he’d be cracking that seal today. Downstairs in the
basement, his personal lair, he shucked his clothes and climbed onto the bed. His cock hung between
his legs, heavy and semi-hard, but he ignored that too.
Propping himself up on his pillows, he used his pocketknife to open the Jim Beam and took his first
mouthful.
The liquor blazed fire in his throat, stinging his eyes, wetting them.
He blinked away the moisture and took another sip and another. The burn was no more than he
deserved.
A self-deprecating smile formed on his lips. He was doing penance, naked on his back, liquid fire
scalding his insides.
Pablo had dropped him off after Angelo instructed him to send some of their men snooping after his
uncle, Carlos. In his gut, Angelo knew his uncle was behind the sudden appearance of drugs in the
Los Pescadores territory. Anything to create dissention and panic, to have everyone turned against
Angelo.
Then Carlos could sweep in on his high horse and save the day, clean things up as he preached his I
told you sos.
El hijo de puta wouldn’t get away with it.
Angelo had plans for his ass. For Catarina, for Auggie, for his dad, Angelo would make him pay.
He upended the bottle again, the slide of whiskey down his throat not as harsh as before. He grimaced
and screwed back on the cap.
If he couldn’t feel the burn, Jim Beam wasn’t any use to him.
Picking up the blue phone lying next to him on the bed, he checked the time. Twelve-fifteen. Where
was Gabe now? He needed to hear the other man’s voice.
Before his mind could catch up, his fingers were already hitting speed dial three.
Dialing G.
His stomach tightened and his palms turned slippery. He loved how his body reacted to just the
thought of Gabe. He’d known from the first that the cop would be special, he just didn’t know how
much he’d come to mean to him in such a short time.
“Uh, Gabriel Ashby’s phone.” The deep voice wasn’t Gabe’s.
Angelo’s hackles rose. He squeezed the phone in his hand. Hard. “I’d like to speak to Gabe.” His
tone was blunt, but he didn’t care. Who the hell was answering Gabe’s phone?
“Ah, sure. Hold on.”
Muted voices and footsteps reached Angelo’s ears. He lay back on the pillows, gaze on the ceiling as
he fought to control his temper. It could be nothing at all, but he didn’t like someone else answering
Gabe’s phone. And even as those thoughts circled his head, he realized he didn’t like the feeling
coursing through him.
Jealousy.
“Ashby.” Gabe spoke, tone brusque and all business.
Angelo’s cock throbbed. “Cop.” His voice trembled with need and a shitload of other emotions he
didn’t care to name.
Gabe inhaled sharply in his ear. “Hi.”
“Who was that answering your phone?” Angelo knew he demanded things he had no right to, but he
couldn’t help the need coursing through him. The need to stake his claim.
“Um…” Gabe cleared his throat. “I’m at physical therapy. That was Desmond, my therapist.”
“I don’t like him answering your phone.” Angelo ran shaky fingers through his hair.
Silence filled his ear then Gabe murmured, “Hold on.” Angelo heard footsteps then a door slam.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Gabe whispered into the phone. “If you’re going to give me that
crap let’s end this shit now.”
Angelo grimaced.”Mierda.” Fuck. He jerked upright and climbed off the bed. He apologized as he
paced. “Lo siento. That’s not—it won’t happen again.” Today was not his day.
“What’s wrong?” Gabe’s anger switched to concern.
Angelo paused. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
Gabe sighed. “Because you don’t sound like yourself and you’re acting fucking weird, frankly.”
“Ah, so you already know me, cop?” He smiled as he spoke, something soft unfurling in his chest.
“I know enough.” Gabe grunted. “Something is definitely wrong, so talk to me.”
Angelo sank down onto the mattress, a hand sweeping his hair out of his eyes. “Ah, cop. I wish I
could, I do…”
“But it’s a cop and gang-leader related thing,” Gabe finished his sentence.
“Sí.”
Silence, then, “Is it bad?”
Angelo snorted. “Bad enough.”
“But are you okay?”
Was he? “Physically, I am.” He slashed a hand through the air. “But enough about me. How’s your
shoulder? And how’s the PT going?”
Gabe sighed. “Way to change the subject. My shoulder is healing nicely, getting better every day. PT
is grueling, Desmond is a fucking drill sergeant, but it’s good.”
Another reminder of Angelo’s failings. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Hmm, for what?”
“That you have to go through that shit, Gabe. It’s my fault.”
“Okay, what the hell is this woe is me shit?” Gabe barked. “Snap out of it before I kick your ass. I
don’t blame you.” His voice softened. “I don’t blame you, Angelo.”
But he blamed himself.
“I gotta hit the showers,” Gabe said. “We’ll talk later. You are still coming by later, right?”
The undisguised hope in his voice brought a smile to Angelo’s face. “Sí, I’m still taking you to dinner,
cop. Don’t panic.”
Gabe laughed. “Good. My mind’s all set on the free food.”
“I see.”
“Do you? I hope you know you can talk to me and I promise to listen and not judge.”
Dios, when did he get so lucky? Angelo climbed into the bed and pulled the cover up to his waist. “I
know.”
“Good. Where are you?”
“At home, just climbing into bed.”
“What, you mean you just got home since you left me last night?”
He chuckled at the incredulity in Gabe’s voice. “Yes, literally just getting home and into bed.”
“Yeah?” Gabe turned hesitant. “What were you doing?”
Was that jealousy he detected in his cop’s voice? “Remember that thing I can’t discuss?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was dealing with that. Nothing about it was fun or enjoyable. In fact, I was knocking back a bottle
of Jim Beam before I called you.”
“That bad then?”
“Yes, but your voice helps.” Angelo slid his palm down his naked chest. “You’ve helped more than
you know.”
“I’m glad.” The truth of it rang clear in Gabe’s voice. “I’m here, whenever you need me.”
Angelo had every intention of taking him up on the offer. “I know. Go do your thing. I’ll see you
later.”
“Okay, bye.”
Angelo’s eyes slid closed. “Adiós, cop.”
* * * * *
Angelo slept fitfully until his vibrating phone woke him. Grunting, he rolled onto his back and
fumbled around for the damn thing with his eyes closed. He found it under the pillow and pulled his
eyelids open to look at the caller ID.
Pablo. He answered. “Yeah.”
“Boss, you home?”
“Yeah.” Angelo rubbed his knuckles over his eyes. “Just waking up.” “Okay, I’ll swing by in about
twenty minutes.”
Angelo sat up against the pillows. “You found out something?”
Pablo hesitated. “I think so, though we’ll have to iron a few details out.” “I’m fine with that.”
Swinging a leg over the side of the bed, he dragged his fingers
through his hair. “I’m gonna jump in the shower, Mami will let you in.” “Cool.”
They disconnected the call and he got up, staggering to the bathroom. Under the stinging spray of the
hot shower, he went over everything that happened
recently in his head. For the ten years he’d been the leader of Los Pescadores, this was only the
fifth time he’d had to notify the family of one of his own that their loved one was dead. Catarina and
Auggie were the only ones whose deaths were this close together—six weeks apart.
Catarina’s death had shredded his insides and he thought he’d found a way to move past the
crippling pain and anger, but today proved he was nowhere near that. The rage and anger were back
along with the pain and he needed somebody to pay.
Ducking his head under the water, he held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
The two latest deaths were personal, targeted to bring him to his knees, and he could think of only
one man who salivated at the mere thought of Angelo’s destruction.
Hard to believe he shared blood and DNA with Carlos, considering the way the other man hunted him
so ruthlessly. At seventeen he learned how much his uncle hated him and at twenty-two he lost his
father to Carlos’ hate. The knife Carlos lodged in his own brother’s gut had been overkill after the
bullet to the back of the head and numerous other slashes over Sal Pagan’s body.
Carlos carried out the hit on his brother himself when he’d had many men surrounding him who’d
have made Angelo’s father’s death quick and painless.
Every single detail of the murder was recounted to Angelo by Carlos’ right-hand man, right before
Angelo slashed his throat. He couldn’t get to Carlos since his uncle had gotten picked up on a gun
charge a few days later and went upstate for eight years.
If Angelo didn’t care how Carlos died, he’d have called in the many favors he was owed from
someone on the inside and had Carlos taken out, but that was his job. He had to be the one to send the
monster back to where the fuck he came from.
Carlos had to go and the sooner the better, because Angelo had more to lose now than ever before.
He shut off the water and climbed out the shower, his hair dripping down his back. He wrapped a
towel around his head and pulled on a pair of jeans. He still had about four hours before he was
scheduled to pick up Gabe, but he’d be leaving the house soon to make a few rounds, collect some
money owed and set up that new shipment of weapons.
A knock came on the basement door. “Hijo, Pablo and some woman are here.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” He slipped a black sweater over his head then grabbed his phone and
boots. Spying his Glock on his nightstand, he picked it up and stuck it in his waistband before heading
for the stairs.
Upstairs he found his frowning mother in the kitchen, and Pablo and Piper Espinoza seated on the
couch in the living room.
Damn it, why the hell did Pablo bring Piper here? Angelo had been avoiding the woman for weeks.
She’d set her sights on him and wasn’t willing to take no for an answer. He could make it so she knew
her place, but he didn’t harm women even if they were power-hungry gold diggers.
“What’s up?” He ignored Piper’s lust-filled stare and turned to Pablo.
“Boss.” Pablo got to his feet. Sweat glistened on his shaved scalp, which he wiped away with a
swipe of his palm as he walked over to Angelo. “I have some news.”
Angelo nodded, his gaze flashing back to Piper where she sat, chest poking out, lips parted in
invitation. “Let’s take this elsewhere.” He turned on his heel, heading back down into the basement.
“Mami, I’m downstairs.”
His mother grunted.
He smiled. She hated when any of his soldiers dropped by, hated the armed cars and bodyguards he’d
assigned to her so long ago, but she dealt with it like a pro. He owed her so much and he had to find a
way to make all this shit up to her.
Once in the basement, Pablo sat down at the computer desk in the corner while Angelo dropped onto
the bed. “Tell me.”
“All right. So, I asked around to find out who Auggie had been hanging with the past few weeks.”
Pablo spoke in Spanish, his brown eyes sharp and alert as he met Angelo’s gaze.
“One name keeps popping up and it’s not the name I’d expect.”
“Who?”
“Gordo. They’d been inseparable lately.”
Angelo frowned. “Those two are polar opposites if there ever was one.” Where Auggie was soft-
spoken and laid-back, Gordo was loud and obnoxious, always getting into fights. Always in some
kind of trouble. Gordo also outranked and outweighed Auggie.
“Yes. That’s my thought too,” Pablo said. “Why is one of our lieutenants suddenly so tight with a foot
soldier?”
“Good fucking question. Where’s Gordo now?”
Pablo shrugged. “I stopped by his house. His mom said she hasn’t seen him for two days.”
“Could she be lying for him?” His gut tightened. He understood a mother wanting to protect her child,
but if Gordo had anything to do with Auggie’s death Angelo would be delivering the death blow
himself.
“I don’t think she’s lying.” Pablo shook his head. “But I left a crew watching the place, just in case.”
“Good, I want him found.” Angelo dug around in his drawer, searching for a brush to tame his wet
hair. “What’s next?”
Pablo cleared his throat. “The Brazilians are looking to unload some weapons, military-grade shit.
The latest stuff. They want three million.”
“Is it hot?” Angelo didn’t fuck around with stolen weapons, as Pablo well knew, though he’d have no
issue finding buyers.
“Dunno, but we’ve done transactions with them before with no problems.”
“That was before all this shit.” Angelo gave up finding the damn brush. “We might well be on the
brink of a war with Carlos and his crew and I don’t want another distraction in the mix. Hold off on
giving the Brazilians a definite answer. Ask around first. Better safe than sorry.”
Pablo nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”
Angelo lifted an eyebrow. “We done?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me why Piper is upstairs in my living room.”
Pablo’s eyes widened. “She said you were expecting her.”
“Really?” Angelo crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down his second-incommand. “You
believe everything a throwaway tells you?”
A throwaway was the gang’s term for the women used exclusively for sex.
“What? No.” Pablo’s face reddened. “But I knew you’ve been spending time with her lately.” He
shrugged. “I figured you were—you know, fucking.”
Angelo barked a laugh. “For fuck’s sake, Pablo, she gave me head twice. That’s it.” And each time he
had to fantasize her lips were Gabe’s in order to climax.
“Oh well…” The other man grinned. “Seems she’s set her sights on you, boss.”
Angelo grunted and stood. “She can set whatever the fuck she wants. Not going to happen.”
Pablo got to his feet and Angelo clasped the shorter man on the shoulder. “You can have her if you
want.”
“Ugh.” Pablo shuddered as revulsion filled his gaze. “Been there, never want to go back.”
Both laughed as they ascended the stairs.
“Hey, boss, what do you want to do for your birthday?”
Angelo froze. His birthday. He hadn’t given his birthday a second thought with all the things he’d
been dealing with. He lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.
“I’m not in the mood to party, Pablo. Nothing major, so whatever you’re planning,” he met the fake
innocence in Pablo’s gaze with a stern one of his own, “forget it.”
“Sure, boss.”
They reentered the living room to find Piper had made herself at home on the couch, shoes kicked off,
legs propped up, remote in hand as she watched TV. In the kitchen pots and pans clanged, signaling
his mother’s displeasure.
“Piper.”
She turned her head, her wide, brown gaze undressing him even as her face faked nonchalance.
“Please get your feet off my mother’s coffee table, put your shoes back on, and leave.”
Surprise dimmed her eyes. Her mouth opened and Pablo stepped forward.
“Piper, I have a job for you.”
Angelo watched dispassionately as Pablo grabbed Piper by the arm and pulled her to her feet with a
wide smile.
“I’d really like your help with something, por favor.” Pablo picked up her shoes and guided her to the
door before she uttered a word. At the entrance he threw Angelo a grin over his shoulder. Angelo
acknowledged it with a nod.
He didn’t have the patience to deal with people of Piper’s ilk, not today. He waited until the door
closed behind them before he made his way to the kitchen.
His mother stood at the stove, an apron around her waist as she stirred a pot. He cleared his throat
and she looked at him, expression fierce.
“I don’t like that girl.”
No need to ask whom she referred to. He smiled and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around
her waist from behind and laying his head on her shoulder. “I know. I don’t like her either.”
“Hmm.” She turned around and squinted at him. “Are you okay? I heard about what happened.”
She would. He shook his head. “No, I’m not all right.”
“Hijo.” She cupped his jaw. “Do you think…is it him?” Her hand trembled and tangible fear
brightened her eyes. Only one man could do that to her.
He covered her hand with his and told her the truth. “There’s a real chance Carlos is behind it all.”
She inhaled sharply then pulled her hand away from him, quickly sketching out the sign of the cross.
“Holy Mother, forgive me.” She breathed, looked away then brought her gaze back to him. “I never
wanted this life for you, Sal didn’t either, but here, today, I’m going to say something I’ll never
repeat.”
He stood silently and waited.
Gaze steady, voice clear, his mother spoke. “I want you to make him pay. I want the streets to run red
with his blood. I want him to feel the pain he put me through, put us through. Death.”
Angelo gathered her in his arms, dropping a kiss on her cheek. He knew how much it cost her to say
that, she’d always hated the violence of the gang life. “He’ll pay, Mami. I promise you.”
She remained in his arms for a little while then pulled away. Tugging on his hair, she smiled
tremulously with wet eyes.
“Come.” She pulled him to the kitchen table where they both sat.
“Tell me about your man. Did he like the enchiladas?”
Angelo bit back a smile. Sometimes he regretted being so open with his mother. “He loved it, Mami.
He was…freaked out that you knew about him.”
She frowned. “Why?”
He’d held back Gabe’s profession from her, but she needed to know. “He’s a cop, the detective who
questioned me about Catarina.”
His mother’s color faded with each word he spoke. When he finished she slapped a palm down on the
table.
“Are you crazy?” She dressed him down in Spanish. “A cop, Angel?”
“Mami, please.” He grabbed her hand. “He’s…different.”
“He’s a cop, how different can he be?” She shook her head. “No, he’s probably trying to get you
unguarded, then he’ll take you down.”
“Mami, no.” Not once did he entertain that thought. He knew his cop.
His mother stared at him, wonder written all over her face. “You care for him deeply.”
“I—” He opened his mouth and closed it. There was no way he’d deny whatever he felt for Gabe.
His mother waved his hesitation away. “You came out to me at fifteen, hijo, and you’ve been with the
gang for ten years and not once have you mentioned anyone you were seeing.”
“That’s because I wasn’t seeing anybody.”
She smiled. “Because no one got under your skin, no one affected you like this.” Her eyes softened.
“If you care for him then he must be special. I want to meet him.”
“No.” He couldn’t do that. It would be too risky, too dangerous, and he doubted Gabe would agree.
“He makes you happy.” She placed a finger under his chin and tipped his head up.
Angelo met her searching gaze.
“It’s there, in your eyes,” his mother whispered. “Your happiness.” Her eyes filled.
“Mami, don’t cry.” Shit. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” She sniffed. “They’re happy tears. You’re in love. I want to meet him.”
He blew out a heavy breath and dragged his fingers through his tangled hair. “I’ll mention it to him,
but no promises.”
She laughed, cupping his face with both hands. “I have faith in my son.” She kissed his forehead then
stood. “All right, come on. Let’s do something about your hair.”
Chapter Four
Gabe dumped the sheets and comforter into the dryer as he eyed the clock on the wall.
Anticipation churned in his gut. He’d never looked forward to seeing somebody the way he looked
forward to seeing Angelo Pagan.
Today at physical therapy his focus was shot, taken over by the memories of Angelo’s taste. The
feel of his skin and that hot, needy look in his eyes.
His cock pulsed, pushing against the towel wrapped around his waist. He’d neglected his laundry and
now had to rush to wash a few jeans and sweaters plus the sheets and comforter on the bed. He made
the worst housekeeper ever.
Trish had been the one to take care of all that stuff because he never could get the hang of the colors.
He’d spoiled many a white t-shirt in the days after she left.
Staring unseeing into the dryer door, he acknowledged he was missing Trish. Missing her presence.
Now he understood all the things she did for him and he owed her an apology for being such as ass in
the immediate days following his shooting.
She needed to know how sorry he was for treating her like the redheaded stepchild when she was
only looking out for him.
His attraction to Angelo had really fucked with his head. It occurred to Gabe what freaked him out
most was not the fact that Angelo was a man, but his criminal lifestyle. Sure, up until that moment
he’d never wanted to stroke another man’s cock and watch his face as he climaxed.
He’d never wanted to fuck another man or have another man suck him off, but he did now. At the
YMCA today he’d watched the men in the place through new eyes. He watched muscles flex and
asses clench and lips move, but none of that got his dick hard and his blood racing.
The instant he heard Angelo’s voice over the phone, though, he was hard enough to slice granite. He
accepted wanting Angelo, accepted wanting to feel the other man’s ass wrapped around his dick, but
he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be on the receiving end. The sensation of Angelo’s mouth and
fingers in and on him felt damn incredible, but the actual act was daunting.
He needed to talk to Kane. His older brother was the perfect person to talk to but as a member of the
Federal Marshals’ Fugitive Task Force he was out of town chasing a criminal who’d jumped bail.
Kane was gay and always open about his sexuality. Gabe never thought twice about his brother’s
sexual preferences, but now he needed his brother’s advice. Kane was still nursing a broken heart
from the death of his long-time partner, but Gabe knew his brother would help him. Of course, Kane
would know Angelo Pagan’s reputation. How would he defend his relationship with Angelo to his
brother?
Gabe shrugged. Time enough for that. He grabbed his phone from the laundry detergent shelf above
his head and dialed Kane’s number. His phone would be off, but he’d leave a message, tell Kane it
was urgent.
Holding the phone to his ear, he walked out the basement and back upstairs to finish getting dressed.
Angelo would be arriving soon. Fuck, his cock and balls throbbed.
“What’s up, bro?” His brother’s deep voice echoed in his head.
“Kane.” Gabe grinned. “I didn’t think I’d get you, I was going to leave a message.”
“Yeah, we got our guy so I’m finishing the paperwork and I’ll be back in your neck of the woods by
tomorrow night.”
“Oh, okay.”
“What’s up, what did you want to talk about?”
“I…” Gabe licked his lips. “It can wait until you get here.”
“Are you sure?” Gabe pictured his brother frowning, his forehead creasing. “You sound weird.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“All right. I’ll come by the morning after I get to Brooklyn. We could do breakfast or something.”
Gabe nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Now that he’d put the intent to talk to Kane out there,
trepidation ate away at his insides.
“How’s the shoulder doing?”
Kane had demanded to know who’d shot Gabe, vowing retribution as he lay in his hospital bed. His
older brother had a very intense protective streak.
“The shoulder is fine, getting better every day.” He rolled the shoulder in question, taking note of the
absence of pain. Yes, the physical therapy was working. He’d be able to get back to work in no time.
“Okay. I’ll call you once I touch down in New York and we’ll see each other soon.” Voices called to
Kane and he swore. “Gotta go, baby bro. Love ya.”
“You too, be safe.”
After ending the call, Gabe threw the phone down on the bed and grabbed his black sport jacket from
the closet. He laid the jacket next to the phone, sat at the edge of the bed and pulled on his shoes.
Where was Angelo taking them? The other man said they were going out, but where could they go
without the risk of being seen? At least this was the middle of the week, there wouldn’t be many
people out to restaurants and the like on a Wednesday night. Still, anything could happen.
He pulled on the white shirt over his crew neck t-shirt then grabbed his jacket, keys, wallet and phone
before heading back downstairs. The clock in the living room read eight-oh-one. He skipped down
the basement stairs to check on the stuff in the dryer, cell phone in hand.
His heart refused to stop pounding. His palm grew slick with moisture. He glanced at the time on his
cell. Eight-oh-three.
If anything came up Angelo would’ve called. Why the hell was he reacting this way just because the
man was a couple minutes late? The dryer dinged off and he pivoted, ducking into the half bath to
splash water on his face.
Lifting his head up, he stared at himself in the mirror. His gray eyes were wide, scared. He brushed
his hair out of his eye, only then noticing the tremors in his hand. Holding both hands out in front of
him, he stared down at them. All this because Angelo Pagan was a few minutes late for a date?
The fear in his eyes wasn’t for him, Gabe realized. It was for Angelo. He worried over the other man.
He cared for him. Gabe brought his gaze back to the mirror, watching his shocked expression with
detached fascination. He cared.
Fuck me. His legs turned rubbery, his throat hurt, and his cell phone went off, startling him. He stared
down at it where it sat face-up on the sink, caller ID blinking “A”, and contemplated not answering.
He contemplated not walking up those stairs, not looking into Angelo’s eyes, not touching him and
couldn’t do it.
He grabbed the phone and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was scared shitless,
floundering in the deep water he’d intentionally swam out in, but nothing was keeping him from being
with that man out there.
He shrugged on his jacket, wrapped a black scarf around his neck and stuffed his wallet in his pocket.
Picking up his keys, he ignored the phone vibrating in his palm and stepped out his house, locking the
door.
Cold air blasted his face.
A black SUV idled out front, the front passenger side window rolled down as Angelo peered out.
Gabe’s pulse leapt. He licked his lips as he jogged down the stairs, struggling not to run as
exhilaration heated his spine.
The passenger door opened from the inside and he hopped in, sliding into Angelo’s arms before the
door closed again, locking them in the vehicle.
Leaning over the center console, he yanked Angelo close, whispering, “You’re late,” before he took
his lips.
Angelo moaned, mouth opening wide, tongue dipping inside, devouring Gabe. His warm fingers held
Gabe’s neck, massaging as Gabe clawed at his back, fingers digging into the material of his jacket.
Between his legs, his cock jerked, lengthening with every swipe of Angelo’s tongue, every nip of his
sharp teeth. His warm scent, clean male musk and a woodsy cologne, surrounded Gabe, drawing him
deeper into the haze of lust and need.
Finally, Angelo broke the kiss and Gabe tried not to pout.
“Fuck!” Angelo pressed his nose to Gabe’s. “Amado, mierda.” His hot breath caressed Gabe’s
cheek, fanning the heat on his skin.
Gabe struggled to breathe. He closed his eyes, fingers clutching at Angelo, and forced himself to calm
down. “This is…God.” He shuddered. “I don’t know what the fuck this is.” He lifted his head up,
meeting Angelo’s heavy-lidded gaze. “But I like it. I want more of it.”
Angelo growled and kissed him again, hard, bruising. Gabe moaned, lips clinging even when Angelo
pulled away.
“We gotta go, amado. Else I’ll be stripping and begging you to fuck me right here, right now.”
Gabe’s breath hitched. His zipper bit into his erection and he reached down, repositioning his bulge.
“God, Angel. I want that. I want it.” His entire body shook.
Angelo faced forward, fingers gripping the steering wheel. “And we’ll get it, but right now we have a
date.” He buckled his seatbelt and flashed Gabe a smile and a wink. “Buckle up, cop.”
Gabe did as instructed without taking his eyes off Angelo. The other man was swathed in black, his
hair flowing down his back and gleaming in the dim light.
Gabe reached out his hand, plunging his fingers into the dark tresses as Angelo pulled off the curb. “I
love your hair.”
Angelo smiled with his eyes on the road. “You’ve got a sensitive streak in you, amado.”
“As do you.” Gabe wrapped a lock of hair around his finger. “I know what amado means.”
Angelo’s lips quirked. “Do you?”
“Yes, it means beloved.” He’d been shocked at the translation when he Googled the word on his
phone while at the YMCA. He was Angelo’s beloved.
Angelo removed his right hand from the steering wheel and held it out to Gabe who released his hair
and took the proffered hand. Angelo linked their fingers and brought it to his lips. The rasp of his kiss
made Gabe shiver.
“You are my amado.”
Gabe traced the curve of Angelo’s lips with a finger then brought their joined hands down, leaving
them to rest on the center console. “Where are you taking us?” Peering through the windshield, he
noticed the road signs and gaped at Angelo. “You’re taking us back to Brooklyn?”
Angelo nodded. “Williamsburg. Feel like some Thai food?”
“Yeah, but isn’t that a big risk? Us being in Brooklyn?” He unlaced their fingers and crossed his arms
over his chest.
Angelo nodded slowly, never taking his gaze from the road. “It is a risk, but so is everything we do. I
refuse to hide behind closed doors. I want to take you out and besides, I haven’t been to Sea in a long
time.” He winked. “They make some good shit over there.”
“Sea?” Gabe barked a laugh. What kind of restaurant was named Sea?
Angelo chuckled. “Yep. Catarina took me there last year over the summer. We ate like pigs.” A sad
smile creased his face.
Gabe squeezed his shoulder. “You miss her, don’t you?” Sadness filled the space suddenly.
“I do.” Angelo sighed. “But it’s getting tolerable. Being with you, seeing you helps so much. You
have no idea.”
Gabe smiled. “I’m glad I can help you, Angel. And how’s your mom holding up?”
“She’s tough, she’s getting by as well.” Angelo pulled up at a red light and glanced at Gabe with
serious eyes. “She wants to meet you.”
Gabe managed not to scream, hell no! Meet Angelo’s mother? “I—we can’t. It’s too risky,” he
squeaked.
“I know, but she insists.” He dragged a knuckle down Gabe’s cheek before pulling off at the green
light. “Will you at least think about it, please?”
Gabe nodded. “I will.”
They settled on a comfortable silence, but Gabe chewed on his bottom lip. He couldn’t help feeling
apprehensive the closer they got to Brooklyn. To distract himself from thinking about the what-ifs and
borrowing trouble, he turned to Angelo.
“Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me about your relationship with your mother. Your sister.”
Angelo spared him a glance. “The files you guys have on me over at the precinct didn’t cover that?”
Gabe waved his words away. “I don’t care about the fucking file. Talk to me. You live with your
mom?” The file said something to that effect, but he had to start somewhere. Getting Angelo to open
up was as frustrating as attempting to roll uphill.
Angelo barked a laugh at his question. “Is that what you think? I live with my mother?”
Rolling his eyes at the mocking tone, Gabe said, “So you don’t live with your mother? Care to set the
record straight?”
“My mother lives with me, there’s a difference. We’re close and since I’m her only living child, she
wants to keep her eye on me.”
Gabe chuckled. “She sounds like a keeper.”
“She’s a force of nature,” Angelo said grudgingly. “We live together, but I have my space
independent of hers. A place where I can de-stress and just be by myself for a while.”
Gabe eyed Angelo’s profile thoughtfully. He could see that, he could see Angelo needing a safe outlet
to rest and escape from all his responsibilities. “What’s it like, this place of yours?”
“It’s…mine. Separate from the gang, the violence. Everything.” Angelo shrugged wide shoulders.
“It’s my getaway.”
“Your hideaway,” Gabe countered.
Angelo nodded briefly. “That too.”
“I want to see it.”
Angelo’s gaze shot to him and back to the road quickly. “¿Que?”
Gabe grinned. “Don’t give me that. This place is your secret hideaway. I want to see it.” Maybe then
he could get a better sense of the man Angelo didn’t want Gabe to know he was. Every now and then
he caught glimpses of the soft and gentle person Angelo was before he hid behind that implacable
gangster façade.
“Why do you need to see it?”
Gabe didn’t miss the way Angelo’s fingers flexed where they gripped the steering wheel. “If we’re
going to do this,” he said, “I mean really do this, I need to know you. Completely. Not the tiny bits
and pieces you spoon feed me.”
Heavy silence jarred the dark interior of the SUV. Gabe swore he heard Angelo thinking. Did he think
Gabe would betray him, use all this against him? Was he wondering if it was wise to go down this
road they appeared intent on traveling? Angelo didn’t voice any of those thoughts and Gabe wished he
would, at least then he could assure the other man they were in the same boat with the bothersome
thoughts.
Neither had shown the other they could be trusted. What if Angelo refused this step? Gabe
swallowed. He’d thrown Angelo a test without even realizing it and he fisted his right hand as he
awaited the dreaded verdict.
“Do you want us to get the food to go?” Angelo’s tone was subdued, his gaze straight ahead as a
muscle in his jaw jumped.
Gabe’s stomach hollowed. He glanced away as his throat worked. “We could do that.”
Was Angelo giving up before they even started? The thought forced a panicked breath out of him. He
stared unseeing out the window, shadowed scenery flashing by as Angelo ordered their food via his
Bluetooth headset. Gabe paid no attention to the words Angelo spoke, only to the cadence and timbre
of his voice. The deep Brooklyn lilt was sexily flavored with Spanish and Gabe loved how both
languages flowed effortlessly from Angelo.
His nails bit into his palm, drawing a wince. He wouldn’t accept Angelo’s retreat. Fucking no.
“Cop.”
He swung around, meeting Angelo’s curious gaze.
“Are you okay?” Angelo frowned at him.
Gabe nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak just then.
Angelo’s expression remained skeptical. “It’s in Coney Island.”
“Huh?”
“The—my place. It’s in Coney Island. I bought the building under an alias. Fifteen floors overlooking
the amusement park and the water.”
Gabe’s heart thumped-thumped in his ears. “You’re telling me about it?” Fuck, his voice cracked.
“You’d trust me with your secret, with this secret?”
Angelo pulled into the restaurant parking lot, quickly finding a space and turning off the engine before
he turned to Gabe. His face was serious, golden eyes watchful, searching.
“Did you doubt me? Do you doubt that I trust you?” Tone clipped, lips thinned, he waited for Gabe’s
reply.
Gabe glanced away from that look of hurt lurking in Angelo’s eyes. “Seeing each other at my house is
different than you telling or showing me your hideout.” He met Angelo’s gaze. “If the roles were
reversed I’d be hesitant about revealing that. Your life and safety are at stake.”
“But the roles aren’t fucking reversed,” Angelo shot at him. “Just being with you puts my—our—lives
and safety at risk.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Didn’t we already discuss this?”
Angelo’s frustration was clear in his voice and flared nostrils.
“But it’s different—”
“No, it’s not. If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be here, Gabe.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and yanked
the car door open, exiting before Gabe could speak.
Angelo tuned the radio to a Spanish hip-hop station when he returned from getting their food. They
drove through the Brooklyn streets in almost complete silence. Gabe voiced his apologies more than
once en route to Angelo’s secret spot but his man refused to even look at him.
Gabe didn’t know when he began referring to Angelo as his man, but that didn’t make it less true.
Angelo was his. Whatever lay ahead of them on the journey they undertook they’d weather it together.
Of course at the moment Angelo wasn’t exactly in a receptive position for Gabe to speak those words
out loud. Instead he bided his time, waiting patiently.
The streets in Coney Island were deserted, the world-famous amusement park shut down for the
winter. The weather wasn’t as biting cold as the days prior, but they were near the water now and
Gabe felt the dip in temperature.
“There it is.”
Gabe looked up at the white building shrouded in darkness. “You own it?” “Yeah.”
Under an alias, Gabe remembered. Of course Angelo would take all necessary precautions. He was a
naturally careful man and here he was, opening himself up to Gabe. Sharing his secrets. This wasn’t
something to take lightly, Gabe understood that, but what did he have to give Angelo in return? His
life was an open, boring book, until he met Angelo. He had nothing to give Angelo, nothing but
himself.
Instead of parking at the front entrance, Angelo drove past it and around to a side entrance. A faded
sign read “Private Garage” and Angelo drove into the underground parking almost hidden behind a
wire fence and broken branches. He parked and Gabe grabbed the bag of carry-out food, hopping out
to stand beside Angelo at a heavy steel door.
Biting off the leather glove he’d pulled on earlier, Angelo flipped open a black latch and punched in a
code into the security pad hidden underneath.
“And the entire place is empty?” Gabe asked. “Why not rent it out?”
Angelo snorted and pushed the door open. “No, this is mine alone.”
Gabe stepped inside the place and sighed. Heat greeted him as dust tickled his nose. Angelo flicked
on a light and Gabe blinked. They were in a hallway, breaths echoing in the stillness. An elevator sat
opened to his left, the inside painted a glossy gold and black, same as the hallway walls.
Angelo stepped into the elevator. “Coming up?” He raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Hell yeah.” Grinning, Gabe stepped in after him and waited as he punched a button marked PH2.
“What’s on penthouse one?”
“A gym.”
Gabe chuckled. “Nice.”
Angelo laughed too, lifting his gaze to meet Gabe’s.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to test you earlier. That’s not what that was.” He cupped Angelo’s scruffy jaw.
“I just… I want to know you. Not the leader of Los Pescadores. You.”
Angelo turned into his touch, eyelids fluttering. “I know that.” He stepped into Gabe’s space and
wrapped both arms around his waist. “I want the same.” He dipped his head and Gabe parted his lips,
moaning as Angelo slid inside his mouth, slow and soft.
He moved his hand from Angelo’s face to the back of his neck, holding him in place as they groaned
into each other’s mouths. Angelo cupped his ass, fingers hot through Gabe’s jeans, and Gabe rocked
into his, pushing his erection onto Angelo.
They humped each other, cocks bumping, as they kissed, tongues gliding. Gabe inhaled Angelo’s
hunger, taking it into his body and making it his. Need clawed at his spine, his cock aching, dripping,
and he knew what he would give Angelo.
Something they both needed. Wanted.
The elevator dinged and they jumped apart, eyes meeting as they chuckled. “Shit.” Angelo wiped a
hand over his face. “You make me forget.” He raised lustfilled eyes to Gabe then reached out, rubbing
a thumb over Gabe’s bottom lip. “Thank you for that.” He stepped out into the hallway and Gabe
followed, at a loss.
Making Angelo forget was a good thing?
They walked down a carpeted hallway until Angelo stopped in front of a nondescript black door. He
pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door then stepped aside with a flourish.
“Welcome to my home away from home.” His words were light, but his golden eyes were heavy.
Serious.
Gabe stared at him, trying to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his mind whispering this was a
monumental move for both of them. The step he took forward was slow but steady and he reached out
blindly, grabbing Angelo’s hand.
Squeezing Angelo, he said, “I know what this moment means.” Then he let go, tilted his chin up and
walked inside. A light blinked on and the door closed behind him as Angelo followed him in.
Halfway into the apartment, he stopped.
This wasn’t a hideaway, this was a home.
The two-story loft was painted a warm caramel and felt airy and spacious. Moonlight filtered through
the sheer drapes at the floor-to-ceiling windows. A widescreen TV and game console were hooked
up to the opposite wall, while a brown leather sectional horseshoed around a glass coffee table
decorated with books and tiny glass figurines.
No one would mistake this for anything other than a home, so warm and inviting.
Gabe looked over his shoulder at Angelo. “This is your home.” He swallowed the emotion in his
throat. Angelo jerked his head in a nod.
Still holding their food, Gabe walked over to the wall nearest him decorated with black-framed
photos. His gaze slid over pictures of Angelo in his younger years with his mom and sister, settling on
the face of Salvatore Pagan. Angelo’s father was an imposing figure even in photographs, his
mustachioed expression fierce. His eyes, much like his son’s, were warm and twinkling.
Gabe brought his free hand to his throat. “You look like him. Just like your father.”
Strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Angelo kissed his nape and his hair and Gabe twisted
around in his arms. Looking into Angelo’s eyes, his own felt gritty.
“I can’t believe you brought me here. It’s so fucking personal.”
Angelo chuckled then dropped a kiss on his nose. “You’re in my arms and I had my tongue up your
ass, I’d say we’re pretty personal.”
Gabe laid his head on Angelo’s chest and laughed. “Yeah, we are pretty personal.”
“Come.” Angelo brushed a kiss on his forehead. “Let’s eat.”
* * * * *
They sat on the floor in the living room, sharing pineapple fried rice, duck curry and Drunk Man’s
noodles while sipping on Coronas. That and water were the only things in the fridge in Angelo’s
decked-out kitchen.
Gabe swiped one of Angelo’s basil spring rolls and feigned innocence when Angelo raised an
eyebrow. In retaliation Angelo grabbed the container of fried rice and inched away from Gabe.
“Hell no, you don’t.” Gabe lunged at him, grabbing a fistful of Angelo’s hair. “Put down the fried
rice if you know what’s good for you.”
Angelo twisted away, lifting his haul in the air, a do your worst expression on his face.
“Oh you want to test me, do you?” Gabe rolled onto his knees and slid his hand under Angelo’s black
sweater, fingers skating over his ribs.
Angelo’s lips quirked. “Seriously, cop? I’m not ticklish.”
“No?” Gabe straddled his legs and inched his fingers higher on Angelo’s warm skin. “That’s fine, I’m
not in the mood for tickles anyway.” His knuckles grazed Angelo’s pecs as he found his target. He
hooked a pinkie through the small ring in Angelo’s nipple and tugged. “This is what I’m after.”
“Aahh.” Angelo arched. His body shuddered. “Damn.”
“Yeah.” Gabe tugged on both rings at once, watching as Angelo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His cock
pressed against his zipper. “We can do this all night or you can hand over the rice there nice and
slow.”
“Shit, Gabe.” Voice hoarse, Angelo undulated, grinding his erection on Gabe’s. “I’m thinking that’s a
threat I’d like to see you carry out.”
“Yeah?” Gabe leaned forward, burying his nose in Angelo’s shoulder. Flicking out his tongue, he
licked the exposed skin.
Angelo shuddered under him, hips jerking. He lowered his arms, putting the container of food aside
before grabbing Gabe’s ass cheeks and kneading.
“Mmm.” Gabe moaned into his shoulder, rocking on Angelo. The friction felt sweet, blood raced
through his veins and his balls ached, but he wanted more. He wanted to know Angelo’s taste and
texture. He nipped Angelo’s earlobe then pulled away.
Sinking his fingers in Angelo’s hair, Gabe met his drowsy gaze. “I want to taste you, feel you in my
mouth.”
A muscle in Angelo’s jaw ticked. His lips parted, but he didn’t speak and his eyes flashed fear.
The sight alarmed Gabe. He cupped Angelo’s jaw. “What? What is it?”
Angelo shook his head, his gaze dancing away from Gabe’s. “I just…this will be your first time doing
this.” He turned back to Gabe. “What if my cock in your mouth makes you decide it’s not what you
want after all?”
Gabe really wanted to smile but he didn’t think Angelo would appreciate it right then so he settled for
kissing Angelo until his man turned pliant under him once more. Flicking his tongue over Angelo’s, he
fumbled with his belt, unbuckling him.
The erection tenting Angelo’s jeans bumped Gabe’s hand as he unzipped him carefully. He kissed
Angelo again then slid down his body, settling on the floor on his stomach between Angelo’s parted
thighs. Gabe pressed his face to Angelo’s crotch, inhaling the heat and aroused musk. His cock leaked
and he pushed the lower half of his body into the floor, rocking his hips, fucking the flat surface.
Angelo lay still beneath him, barely breathing, probably waiting for Gabe to come to his senses.
Realize he didn’t want cock after all. Licking his lips, Gabe reached inside Angelo’s gaping fly and
brushed up against skin.
“Such a fucking tease,” he murmured. “No underwear.” Wrapping his hand around the hot cock
jerking against him, he looked up at Angelo and squeezed.
“Ugh.” Angelo clawed the floor with eyes closed, hips thrusting up, cock throbbing, hardening even
more. “Gabe.”
“Open your eyes.” Gabe squeezed him again, harder. Angelo’s eyes flew open, the need in them stark
and naked. “Tell me,” Gabe demanded. “Tell me what you want.” He dipped a thumb into Angelo’s
wet slit and waited.
“I want…” Angelo licked his lips. “Take me in your mouth. I want your tongue and your teeth and
your lips.”
Gabe smiled. He tugged the waist of Angelo’s jeans down his hips, leaving them bundled around his
thighs. His mouth actually watered at his first sight of Angelo’s cock, hard and thickly veined,
pointing its wet and ruddy tip to the ceiling. He palmed the shaft the way he would his, sliding his
hand up and down in a steady stroke.
Angelo’s hips lifted with each move and Gabe’s cock wept, his balls ached. He fucked the floor as he
jerked Angelo off.
“Your cock’s so pretty,” Gabe whispered. He placed an open-mouthed kiss on the head, tasting bitter-
sweet salt as Angelo jerked and hissed.
Gabe moaned, licking around the tip with tentative swipes of his tongue. He was about to suck his
first cock, Angelo’s cock, and he couldn’t wait. Acting purely on instinct, he opened his mouth and
took the head inside, sealing his lips around it as he sucked like he would a popsicle.
“Oh God. Gabe.” Angelo gripped his hair as his hips thrust up, lodging Angelo deeper in Gabe’s
throat.
“Hmm.” Gabe’s eyes fluttered closed as Angelo throbbed against his tongue. So sweet and salty and
bitter. The many tastes of Angelo. He loosened his jaw, bobbing his head, and Angelo slid to the back
of his throat, tickling him.
He swallowed. Angelo yelled. His hold on Gabe’s hair tightened, sending shards of pain rippling
through him, but he ignored it. He bobbed his head faster, his saliva lubricating Angelo’s length. Gabe
used his hand, working him, stroking him as he shifted lower and took one of Angelo’s balls into his
mouth.
Angelo growled. His unique musk deepened as Gabe tongued one hairy ball after the other. The
textures of wrinkled skin on Angelo’s balls, smooth and thick veins on his dick felt familiar yet
different to Gabe. He inhaled the heated arousal all around him and licked the underside of Angelo’s
balls. He moved lower still, flicking over the area between balls and ass he’d never paid attention to
on his own body until Angelo kissed him there.
That weak-kneed feeling, the breathlessness, he wanted Angelo to experience it like he’d made Gabe
experience it. Using a slick finger, he pressed it to the area, smiling as Angelo’s thighs trembled and
he cursed in Spanish. Gabe’s tongue joined his finger, tasting Angelo, slicking him up.
Nothing about this felt wrong to Gabe, nothing felt as natural as sliding his index finger over Angelo’s
perineum, then his tongue.
“Gabe.” Angelo shook under him, his voice sounding like he was crying. “Gabe.”
“Hmm.” Gabe hummed as Angelo’s taste, dark and musky, dissolved on his tongue. So wicked, this,
but he’d give up his soul in that instant to love Angelo like this always. He stiffened his tongue and
drilled into Angelo’s tight entrance, abandoning his hold on Angelo’s cock in favor of gripping his
butt cheeks with both hands and spreading them.
Angelo pushed down on his tongue, offering himself up for the taking, and Gabe was more than
willing to oblige. He licked two fingers and pressed them inside Angelo, slowly, because he wasn’t
too far gone with lust to remember no one had ever touched his man like this. Angelo stiffened at the
invasion, his thighs taut, but Gabe licked around the invading fingers, allowing his saliva to ease the
way.
Soon he was halfway in. He twisted his wrist and rammed in the rest of the way.
“God. Fuck.” Despite the harsh words, Angelo spread his legs wider and rocked on Gabe’s fingers.
“Yes.” Eyes on his fingers as they worked in and out of Angelo, Gabe whispered, “Fuck yourself on
my fingers.” The hot muscles around him clenched and he groaned. “Yeah, baby. Fuck, you’re so
hungry for it, aren’t you? So ready.”
Angelo rolled his hips in reply, the movement driving Gabe’s digits deeper inside him.
“Ah God.” Gabe reached a hand between his own legs, fumbling to unbutton his jeans and unzip
himself to free his trapped cock. “Fuck. I could come from just the feel of you around my fingers.” He
tugged on his cock, writhing on the floor.
Angelo palmed his neglected dick, pulling roughly as Gabe watched.
“Yeah, baby. Ah shit.” Gabe pulled out the fingers in Angelo slowly, his knuckles grazing a fluffy
knot that had Angelo crying out, his ass contracting. This must be the prostate. Gabe pressed his
knuckle against it and looked up as Angelo’s head thrashed back and forth.
Oh that’s the ticket.
“You like that, don’t you?” He sat up, fingers still inside Angelo. “When I touch that spot, you melt.”
To demonstrate he pulled out and plunged back in, the pads of his fingers pegging the knot.
Angelo arched, slack-jawed, eyes bright as his muscles worked Gabe’s fingers.
“Yes, you like that,” Gabe murmured. He jacked himself off as he fucked Angelo with his fingers.
“You want to come, don’t you? I can see it, the strain on your face.” He bent over, contorting himself
to lick Angelo’s cock head. “Let go. Come down my throat.” He sealed his lips around Angelo and
sucked.
“Ungh, Gabe. Don’t…fuck!” Angelo lifted off Gabe’s fingers and plunged down.
They cried out in unison. The dick in Gabe’s mouth swelled, lengthened. He pushed another finger
into Angelo, making the digits there a threesome as he pressed that spongy knot.
Hard.
“Gabe!” Angelo thrust up, slamming into Gabe and lodging his cock in his fucking windpipe as he
came, ass clenching painfully, filling Gabe’s mouth with his cum. Eyes opened, Gabe sputtered
around the load in his mouth, pulling at his cock to the expression on Angelo’s face. His balls drew
up and he released Angelo with a jerk, lurching upright and crawling over Angelo’s body.
Gabe straddled Angelo’s torso as his chest heaved. He jerked himself off as Angelo watched with
hooded eyes.
“Open,” Gabe commanded.
Angelo obeyed and Gabe painted his man’s lips with his pre-cum.
“I’m going to come.” He sounded different—rough, harsh. “And you will suck me down when I do.”
Angelo’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared. He licked his lips and remained silent. Gabe guided his
cock into Angelo’s mouth with his right hand, he palmed Angelo’s throat with his left, squeezing
gently. Angelo sucked him, his mouth hot and wet, the slide of his tongue on the underside of Gabe’s
crown like fucking heaven.
“I love that,” Gabe said softly. “The way you suck me.” His hand at Angelo’s throat flexed. “The way
you surrender, so fucking sweet.”
Angelo moaned around him, the sound vibrating in Gabe’s balls. He bucked, driving his cock deeper
into Angelo’s mouth.
“Do it.” He squeezed Angelo’s throat again and felt the pulse there stutter then speed up. “Take me
down. Take your man down.”
Angelo’s lashes fluttered, but not before Gabe caught the happiness. The joy in their golden depths.
The sight got to him and he began fucking Angelo’s mouth.
Rough and uncoordinated. Angelo closed his eyes and sucked, his mouth like a warm, wet vacuum
Gabe never wanted to leave, but the telltale heat in the base of his spine spiraled up and through his
body.
He gasped as his body shook. Angelo dipped his tongue into his slit then slid it to the ridge on the
underside of his crown.
“Shit!” He grabbed Angelo’s hair, fisting it as he fucked his face. “Fucking make me come!”
Angelo grunted, may have been a laugh, and tongued that ridge again.
“Fuuck!” Gabe doubled over as his seed poured down Angelo’s throat. He kept thrusting as Angelo
palmed his ass and held him upright. “Son of a…fuck!”
Angelo didn’t break from sucking him, moaning around Gabe’s cock as he swallowed and licked.
Gabe trembled above him as he rode the waves, strangled cries leaving his throat. Angelo held him
tight until the shaking eased up some then released his hold. Gabe collapsed on top of him, his soft
dick sliding free as Angelo squeezed him close.
He rolled to his side, pulled Angelo on top of him and kissed him. Gabe thrust his tongue inside
Angelo’s mouth, tasting his man amid the bitter taste of his own cum. Angelo kissed him back, hungry
and insistent, stealing Gabe’s breath.
He tore his mouth away. “Goddamn, this shit is fucking intense.”
Angelo smiled and cupped his cheek. “And it’s going to get more intense.” He brushed his lips over
Gabe’s.
Gabe fisted his hair and stared into his eyes. “Take me to the bedroom. I’m fucking you tonight.”
Putting the words out there, speaking them out loud made his need and intent more potent and he
licked his lips as Angelo’s eyes glazed over.
“Bedroom.” Gabe smacked Angelo’s shoulder. “Now, unless you want our first time to be on your
floor.” He cupped Angelo’s chin and forced their gazes together. “You want me to take you here?”
Angelo vaulted upright, rocking unsteady on his feet. “Bedroom, yeah.” Words slurred, he sounded
drunk. Yanking his jeans up, Angelo headed to the curved stairs leading to the loft’s second floor.
Gabe grinned wolfishly and shucked his jeans, searching in their pockets for his wallet before
bounding up the stairs behind Angelo in only his boxer shorts. He caught up with Angelo at the
entrance to the bedroom and wrapped an arm around him from behind, nibbling on his neck and
shoulders.
Angelo groaned and pressed his ass to Gabe’s front as he slapped his palms flat on the wall to keep
his balance. Gabe pushed into him, hands roaming Angelo’s front, grabbing his balls and squeezing.
“Hmm.” Angelo threw his head back and rolled his hips. “Fuck, Gabe.”
Gabe brushed Angelo’s hair from his neck with one hand, sinking his teeth in as his other hand
worked Angelo’s jeans, pushing them off his hips. He stroked Angelo’s erection, swiping the pre-cum
all around the head and dipping his thumb into the slit.
“Aah. Aah.” Angelo alternated thrusting into Gabe’s hand and grinding his ass on his cock.
Gabe worked Angelo’s slick-tipped cock, getting his fingers lubricated before he removed them.
Placing the heel of his palm on the back of Angelo’s head, he spit on his lubed fingers and brought
them to Angelo’s hole.
“Gonna fuck you here,” Gabe whispered. His voice was harsh, broken as he pushed into Angelo. The
most incredible heat greeted him. He gritted his teeth and sank deeper. “Fuck you so good.”
“Sí.” Angelo shuddered, widening his stance and bending at the waist. His body opened wider and
Gabe sank in, slowly, searching out that knot with the pads of his fingers.
Angelo jerked. “Dios.” His rasp reverberated in the stillness, firing Gabe’s blood.
He pulled his fingers out and pounded them back in harder. Angelo groaned with each thrust, rocking
to meet Gabe, fingers clawing at the walls.
“You’re so sexy like this.” Gabe dropped a kiss on his spine. “Wanna fuck you so bad, babe. Need to
so bad, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He twisted his fingers and Angelo bucked.
“Shit, ah. I have—I have lube,” Angelo managed.
“Oh you do?” Gabe smacked an ass cheek. Angelo inhaled sharply. “Where is it?”
“Bedroom.”
Gabe chuckled. “Then why are we in the doorway?” He removed his fingers from Angelo and bent,
licking his way down Angelo’s crack. “Tell me where the lube is.” He ghosted his tongue over
Angelo’s hole.
“Hmm, fuck. Nightstand, second drawer.” Angelo pushed his ass into Gabe’s face.
Gabe indulged in a few more swipes of his tongue before straightening and stepping away. “Strip and
get on the bed,” he ordered.
They stepped into the room and Angelo did as ordered, kicking off his jeans and socks and jerking his
t-shirt over his head before climbing onto the massive four-poster bed. The bed and the nightstand
were all Gabe noticed in the room. He beelined for the nightstand and yanked open the second
drawer, pulling out a tube of water-based lubrication.
His balls drew up, cock throbbed. Fuck. Hot anticipation burned under his skin. The final step into
what could ultimately be his professional demise was here and he couldn’t wait to take it. Couldn’t
think of anything else he’d rather do.
He hooked a finger in the waistband of his shorts and pulled then down. Turning to Angelo, he about
swallowed his tongue. His man lay on the bed, knees bent, one hand wrapped around his cock,
stroking as he worked his hole with the other, two fingers dipping in and out slowly.
Gabe strode to the foot of the bed and watched. Angelo raised a slumberous gaze to him, cheeks
flushed, teeth nipping at his lower lip.
“I see you started without me.” Gabe crawled up the bed and between his legs.
Angelo smiled, palm stroking his blushed-red cock, fingers thrusting in and out. “You were taking too
long, amado.” He sounded guttural, edging closer to the point of no return.
Gabe dropped a kiss on Angelo’s knee closest to him. He opened the condom he’d fished from his
wallet with shaking fingers and suited up, grinding his teeth. Just the touch of his own hand on his dick
was enough to send him hurtling toward orgasm. Pulling breath into his lungs, he inhaled the smell of
sweat and sex as Angelo’s husky gasps filled his ears. He squeezed a drop of lube into his palm and
lubed up before flinging the tube aside.
“You look so fucking sexy right now.” Pulling Angelo’s legs apart, he moved in between as if he
knew what the fuck he was doing. “So hot for me, needy.” He covered Angelo’s hand with his and
both of them moved, stroking up and down.
“Sí, amado. Just like that.” Angelo arched off the bed, his nipple rings glinting in the light.
Gabe aligned his cock with Angelo’s entrance, sliding it up and down his crack. “Tell me what you
want,” he whispered. “Show me what you like.” His aching balls bitched at him to plunge into
Angelo, but he held himself back. This needed to be good for both of them.
“Te quiero a ti. I want you.” Angelo released his cock and reached below him, pulling apart his butt
cheeks. He canted his hips forward. “I just want you, anything you do will be fine, Gabe. Give me—
give us what we need.”
Gabe stared down into those golden eyes, losing himself as he took his cock in hand and surged
forward, nudging that tight hole, pressing inside. Angelo held his gaze, lips moving, but the blood
rushing in Gabe’s ears drowned out sound. His cock head pushed past the outer ring of muscle and
dipped inside.
The heat swamped him.
Tightness strangled him.
He struggled to breathe through his nose, fought to stay still when all his instincts insisted on him
pounding into the welcoming furnace of Angelo’s body.
“Angel.” The name burst from behind his gritted teeth. “Babe.” Emotion clogged his throat and burned
his eyes. “I can stay like this forever. You fit me so right.”
Angelo’s eyes blazed bright. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, so good.” His muscles clenched
around Gabe.
“Aah, fuck!” Gabe threw his head back and rolled his hips. “I’m torn between staying like this and
pounding into you.” He dug his fingers into Angelo’s thighs. “Tell me what to do,” he moaned. “Tell
me.”
“Fuck me, amado.” Angelo clenched around him again. “Fuck me.”
Gabe thrust, sinking deeper and deeper into all that warmth. His entire body flashed hot, sweat
dripped into his eyes and down his ass crack. He sank in until his balls pressed against Angelo’s ass,
bottoming out.
“I’m in you, so fucking deep.” He met his man’s gaze, lips curving at the hunger imprinted there.
“Gonna fuck you now.”
“Yes. Gabe, por favor.”
Gabe reared back and thrust in.
“Nnng, yesss!” Angelo arched.
“Tug on the rings,” Gabe said hoarsely. “Let me see you play with them.”
Angelo plucked at the silver rings in his nipples, Spanish curses falling from his lips as his body
clenched around Gabe.
“Fuck, yeah.” Gabe pulled out until only his tip remained in Angelo then rammed back in. “Fuck!”
“¡Mierda!”
His legs weakened and his vision went dark for a moment. The ache in his balls grew unbearable.
“God, babe. I can’t last, you feel too good.” He pulled out and slammed in again. “You squeeze me so
fucking good.”
“Do it. Make me come.” Angelo palmed his cock and stroked in time to Gabe’s thrusts, thighs
stiffening. “Gonna come.”
“Yes.” Gabe canted his hips forward and plunged in as his cock erupted. “Oh shit. Oh shit!” He
emptied himself in the condom, watching through slitted eyes as Angelo shot ropes of cum onto his
own stomach.
Fucking sight.
He kept thrusting until his legs collapsed under him and he fell facedown onto Angelo. Shaky arms
held him close, firm lips pressed kisses to his temple and forehead. They remained quiet, chests
heaving until their bodies cooled.
“How do you feel?” Angelo whispered in his ear.
Gabe rose up on his elbow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question? You’re the one who just got
fucked for the first time.”
Angelo’s eyes wrinkled at the corners. “Yeah, but I’ve always been gay. I’ve done this, only on the
pitching side. You’re new to all this, so I’ll ask again, how do you feel?”
Gabe sank his fingers in Angelo’s hair and pulled him close until their noses touched. “I feel like I
want to do that and more again and again. I feel like I could touch you for hours and never stop. I
could get drunk on you, on this.” He waved his hand between them. “I’d still want more.”
Angelo searched his gaze then pulled the blanket up and over them. “There are still times when I can’t
believe we are where we are, that we could be happy with this, but I don’t want to change a thing.”
“Good.” Gabe kissed him, soft, fleeting. He snuggled into Angelo’s embrace, laying his head on his
chest. “Let’s never change it.”
Chapter Five
The sound of his phone woke him. Angelo turned over and winced. His ass hurt and the heavy arm
slung across his chest kept him trapped in the bed. Gabe was draped over him, his head in the crook
of Angelo’s neck and a leg wrapped around his hip.
Fucking sweet way to wake up. Unfamiliar, but sweet. He brushed a lock of hair from Gabe’s
forehead and kissed him softly before rolling out from under him.
“Mmm.” Gabe cracked an eye open. “Hey.” He rolled onto his back and swiped a hand over his face.
“What time is it?”
Angelo picked up his phone from the nightstand. One missed call from Pablo. “It’s a little after four.”
“Shit.” Gabe flopped back onto the pillows.
“Go back to sleep, I have to make a call.” He walked out the room as he dialed back Pablo.
“Hey, boss.”
“What’s up?” Angelo climbed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“We found Gordo.”
“Good.” Pouring himself a glass of water, he leaned a hip against the counter.
“Not really.” Pablo paused. “We found him at Port Authority, about to board a bus to Texas.”
“Huh, you don’t say.” Angelo stared unseeing into his glass of water. “That doesn’t really sound like
the actions of an innocent man, now does it?”
“No, but he’s not talking.”
“Yet.” Water forgotten, Angelo headed back upstairs to get dressed. “Where do you have him?”
“We’re all here at the house on Fifty-Third.”
“Take him to the place in East New York. I’ll be there in a little while.” The abandoned storage
facility on Williams Avenue would do nicely for what Angelo had in mind. Complete privacy was
required.
“Do you need me to get you?”
“No.” He ended the call as he reentered the bedroom. Gabe lay wrapped up in the blankets, only his
curly head visible. A smile tugged at Angelo’s lips. Last night. A night of firsts, one he’d never forget.
No backing out now, for either of them.
Gabe may think he knew what Angelo Pagan was about, but he had no clue. Angelo knew he’d find a
way to fuck up what he and Gabe had. He knew that just as he knew he was in love with the cop in his
bed.
He got dressed and pulled his hair back in a braid before leaning over and kissing Gabe on the cheek.
His cop stretched and opened his eyes.
“I gotta go, babe. I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.” His eyes fluttered closed.
“Stay,” Angelo told him. “Sleep until you’re ready to leave. All the doors are slam locks so you’re
good. Do you want me to get you a ride back?”
Gabe’s eyes popped open. “Hell no. I can take a cab home, don’t worry.”
“Shit. I just—I feel bad, leaving you here by yourself.”
“Jesus, I’ll be fine.” Gabe buried under the blankets. “Go handle your business. Make sure you call
me later.”
Angelo chuckled. “I will.” He kissed Gabe on the lips. “Thank you, for last night.” He felt Gabe’s
mouth curve into a smile. “I’ll call you.” He pulled back, the hardest thing he’d ever done thus far,
and walked away.
“Pagan.”
He paused at the bedroom door and looked over his shoulder. Gabe met his gaze.
“Be safe. That’s a fucking order.” The softness in his eyes didn’t gentle the words.
“Sí, señor.” Angelo snapped a salute and left.
* * * * *
In twenty minutes he was striding through the heavily guarded doors of the building on Williams
Avenue. The guys at the door were somber, nodding to him in silence as he passed by. Angelo felt
their concerns and confusion. They expected him to make things right, get to the bottom of Auggie’s
death, and he would.
First step was dealing with Gordo.
He found Pablo and Gordo seated in a small windowless room in the back of the facility. Pablo
jumped to his feet as soon as Angelo walked in. Gordo stayed seated, but his color faded
considerably. Angelo ignored Gordo and stood, hands in his pockets, as Pablo spoke.
“He tried for inconspicuous, boss. Chopping off his hair and wearing shades and a hat, but we got
him.” He jerked his chin toward Gordo. “Had to practically yank him off the bus, el hijo de puta
didn’t want to get off.”
“Boss, I can explain.” Gordo stood then. “I was going to visit my sister.”
Angelo shot him a look and he sank back into his chair.
“Leave us, Pablo.”
“Sí, boss.” Granting a shaking Gordo a pitying look, Pablo walked out the room.
“Leave the door open,” Angelo said softly. The upcoming activities would act as an example for
anyone even thinking of going behind his back, of double-crossing him.
Bending at the waist, Angelo pulled a small knife and garrote wire from his boots. He laid the items
side by side on the table and grabbed a chair. After positioning the chair in front of Gordo, he sat
down and crossed his ankles.
“I’m listening whenever you’re ready to start talking.” Fingers on his chin, he met Gordo’s fear-filled
gaze.
“Boss, please. I didn’t do nothing.” Gordo sniffled. Tears filled his eyes but didn’t spill over.
“Try another one, Gordo.” Angelo kept his tone civil and low when inside his blood boiled. “An
innocent man doesn’t just up and leave town.”
“My sister—”
“Your family is in Florida, Gordo. And you don’t have a sister.” Angelo leaned forward. “I want to
know what my uncle promised you that was worth more than your life, because you had to know I’d
kill you if I found out.”
“I didn’t do nothing, boss.”
Angelo pulled his .22 from his waistband and pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in Gordo’s right
knee. Gordo cried out, doubling over, hands grabbing at his foot as he slid to the cold concrete
ground.
“I’ve got a lot more bullets and no place to be, Gordo. We can do this dance all motherfucking night.”
“My knee!” Gordo rocked back and forth on the floor. “My foot!” Saliva dripped down his chin, snot
ran from his nose into his mouth.
Not a pretty picture.
“What did he promise you?” Angelo placed the muzzle of the gun under Gordo’s chin and lifted.
Watery eyes, glazed with pain, stared back at him. “Or did he have something on you?”
Gordo’s eyes flickered and Angelo smiled.
“Ah, he had something over your head. What was it?”
“I have a problem,” Gordo whispered. “Carlos knew because he created it and when he needed to
lash out at you, he exploited it.”
The most coherent thing he’d heard from Gordo since he came in. Angelo nodded.
“It’s what my uncle does. I warned my people about him years ago, Gordo. You knew how he
operated from day one so I don’t understand how you got caught in his trap.”
“He and his crew have been dealing drugs in the shadows for a while.” Gordo hung his head.
Sweat beaded on his newly shaven scalp. “I tried heroin. I got hooked. The only people who dealt it
close by was Carlos’ crew and I had to get my fix.” He met Angelo’s eyes. “To feed my habit I had to
go into Carlos’ den. He had pictures, video of me getting high.”
“And he used them to blackmail you.”
“Yes.” Gordo shifted then groaned. Blood spurted from his knee. Angelo watched dispassionately.
“He called me up. Told me he had a job for me and if I don’t do it he’d make sure everyone knew
about my little habit.”
Typical Carlos. Always one for the strong-arm tactics. “What did he want?” “He wanted me to try
out some pills on one of my friends to ‘see’ if they worked.” Gordo shrugged. “I didn’t know what
they were, but I knew Carlos and I knew the pills were bad news. Auggie was hanging round, so I got
him drunk one night and talked him into taking some. The next day he came back for more, sober. And
the next.”
Ice chilled Angelo’s veins. “You got him hooked.”
Gordo nodded. He looked genuinely contrite. Or it could be the pain in his knee. “I have no idea what
the pills were, but they led Auggie around on a leash.”
“And the day he died?”
“I’d ran out, Carlos hadn’t sent more for me and Auggie was feenin’ for it. We argued and I told him
the only person who had the damn pills was Carlos so maybe he should go over there. That was the
last time I saw him.”
“What does my uncle know about my operation?”
Gordo blanched. “Boss—”
“Because I know my uncle and no way would he have someone on the inside of my crew in his midst
and not dig for information.” He got to his feet and picked up the garrote. “What did you tell him?”
“Por favor, I had to tell him,” Gordo cried. “He threatened mi madre.”
“That’s too bad.” Angelo walked over to him, kneeling behind his back. “Snitches don’t live long in
our line of work, Gordo. You know this. You also know what Carlos did to my family. This is fucking
personal and you chose your side.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Gordo twisted around. “He made me tell him all your suppliers and the dates
of your upcoming shipments.”
“I’m sorry too.” Angelo wrapped the garrote wire around his neck and pulled. Gordo’s legs kicked
out, scraping on the floor as he fought. Angelo gritted his teeth, tightening his grip as the wire sliced
through Gordo’s throat. He kept pulling until the body went limp and the smell of hot urine filled his
nose.
His hands and shoulders ached. He moved away from the lifeless body before him as Pablo came into
the room.
“Hand me my knife.” Angelo didn’t take his eyes off Gordo. Grief ate away at him. Yet another of
his men down because of Carlos. He could have spared Gordo’s life, seriously thought about doing
so, but what kind of message did it send to the men he led?
And to his uncle? Lessons needed to be taught, but as he knelt in front of Gordo and slit his throat
from ear to ear along the wire marks, he vowed the next and last life he took would be that of his
uncle’s.
“Bring the men in here,” he ordered Pablo. “Those outside too.”
He remained on his knees as the men filed in, faces expressionless at the body on the floor. They
understood the nature of the beast.
“There are drugs on our streets. Heroin and pills, those I know of for sure. Don’t know what pills yet,
but I will.” He looked at each man in the eye. “There’s about to be a war, one you’ve never seen
before, and it’s personal. Fucking personal.”
“We’re with you all the way, boss.”
“Are you?” He jumped to his feet. “I will personally slit the throat of anyone dealing with Carlos.
He’s a snake, peddling drugs to our soldiers and our kids. He wants control of Los P territory and
he’ll do anything to get it. He’s marked for death, but he’s also mine. No one touches him but me.”
“What do you want us to do, boss?”
“Find out what the pills are. Might be prescription or something else entirely, either way we need to
know. Keep eyes on Carlos’ crew, watch their movements and report back to me. Don’t engage them,
the less bloodshed for Los P the better.” He waved a hand at the body on the floor. “Gordo allowed
himself to be taken. Believe me when I tell you, you’ve been warned. You decide you want to fuck
around with Carlos, betray Los P and all we stand for, this will look merciful compared to what I’ll
dish out next.”
Silence met his words.
“Clean up this place and everybody go home.”
The men hurried to their duties.
“Boss, do you want him dumped or…” Pablo raised an eyebrow.
Or make it so he’s never found. “Dump him.”
* * * * *
Gabe’s phone rang as he stepped into the precinct. He pulled it from his jacket, lips curving at the
identity of his caller. Seriously, was it supposed to feel this good?
Making his way to his captain’s office, he answered Angelo’s call. “Hey.”
“You got home okay this morning?”
“I did. Left soon after you.” The bed had turned cold so there really wasn’t any use in staying until the
sun came up. “Are you okay?” He didn’t want to push Angelo into confiding in him. He would if he
wanted to and Gabe had to make his peace with that. He stepped into his captain’s empty office and
closed the door softly behind him.
Angelo sighed in his ear. That in itself spoke volumes. “I’m not okay, not by a long shot.”
Gabe caught the strain and weariness Angelo tried to conceal. “Do you—” He slid into a chair and
closed his eyes. “I’m here if you want to talk. Just you and me, no strings. You know that, right?”
“I know and maybe one day soon I’ll take you up on the offer.”
“Cool.” Shifting his chair to get a better view of the door, he dipped his voice lower. “I went
shopping today.”
“Oh.”
Gabe grinned. He pictured Angelo’s gold eyes brightening, an eyebrow raised as he waited for Gabe
to continue. “Yes, I spent a small fortune on goodies of the slick and rubbery kind.” His body hummed
at Angelo’s swift intake of breath. Pressing the heel of his free hand against his bulge, he wiggled in
his chair. He had spent a great deal of money at the local drugstore, but most of his shopping had been
online. He’d salivated at the amount of shit they had available. Things he wanted to try with Angelo,
make him whimper and beg.
“You don’t say?” Angelo sounded hoarse. “I should come by for a visit soon, no? Bring you dinner?”
Gabe chuckled. “Sounds like a plan.” He spotted his superior headed to his office and lowered his
voice. “I gotta go, but come over whenever you’re ready, all right?”
“All right.”
“Bye.” He hung up as Captain Kowalski opened his office door and stepped in with a raised salt-and-
pepper eyebrow.
“Ashby.” A large man, in size and height, Kowalski walked around his desk and sat down.
“Cap.” Gabe nodded at him, waiting as Kowalski pulled open his drawer and wiped his hands and
mouth with a paper towel.
“I didn’t say you had to come in immediately, Ashby.” Kowalski balled up the paper towel and
tossed it to the garbage can a few feet away, not quite clearing the rim. He ignored the mess on the
floor and smoothed his moustache with his thumb and index finger.
“I didn’t have anything else to do today, so I figured might as well.” And also, his heart had
momentarily stopped beating when he got the voicemail from Kowalski this morning, barking at him
to get down to the precinct. His first thought, shit his only thought, was that he’d been found out.
Everybody knew about him and Angelo. But despite his trepidation at coming down here, no one
looked at him funny. Everyone greeted him with cheers and slaps on the back.
He’d felt like such a fake in that moment. A betrayer.
“No physical therapy today?”
He jerked his attention to Kowalski’s face. “Uh, no. Back at it tomorrow.” He refused to blink under
Kowalski’s direct blue stare.
“Hmm.” Kowalski grabbed a folder from the pile on his desk, flipped it open, and pushed it toward
Gabe. “You recognize him?”
Gabe picked the folder up off the desk and squinted at the grainy black and white. The young man
with close-cropped hair and a sneer on his scarred face looked familiar. “That’s the guy in the
warehouse.”
“Manuel Duarte,” Kowalski supplied the name.
Angelo’s Manny. The guy who’d wanted to kill Gabe.
“We think he’s the one who shot you.”
He stiffened and looked at Kowalski. His captain obviously expected him to corroborate the story.
“He was there,” Gabe hedged. “His gun was pointed at me, but I can’t remember if he pulled the
trigger.”
“We found him and the gun buried over in Spring Creek.”
“Fuck!” The outburst fell from his lips, drawing a frown from Kowalski.
“You sound shocked. Angry even, Ashby.” Settling back in his chair, Kowalski studied him. “Looks
to me like Los Pescadores is cleaning house.”
Jesus, Angelo. Why hadn’t he told Gabe he’d dealt with Manny?
“Why would Los P kill off one of their own over the attempted shooting of a cop?” His mouth moved,
but Gabe couldn’t be sure he was speaking. His gut told him Angelo did this because Manny wanted
to kill Gabe. This killing was personal and all on Gabe’s shoulders.
“Listen, Pagan is a lot of vile things, but he’s no cop killer. If one of his men went behind his back
and tried to shoot you, Pagan might make an example out of him.”
Which is exactly what Angelo did. Gabe felt a muscle tick in his jaw as he asked, “What’s the cause
of death?”
“Single gunshot wound to the head.” Kowalski nodded at the file in Gabe’s hand. “Ballistics on the
gun shows it’s the same one used on you.”
“But why bury him with the gun? Did they want us to know he did it?” Gabe dragged stiff fingers
through his hair. “But it could easily have backfired, cause us to lean on Los P even more.” What the
hell was Angelo even thinking, doing this shit?
“Which we will. This changes nothing despite what Pagan might hope.” Kowalski leaned closer,
elbows on his desk. “The whole lot of them needs to be exterminated. Night before last, one of
Pagan’s men OD’d. Looks like he’s entering the drug trade. We’re going to be leaning on them hard,
raids every few days, random stops, the works.”
Gabe didn’t hear anything after “drug trade”. When did Los P cross over into drug dealing? Pain
lanced through his chest. A mistake. He’d made a huge mistake. God, he needed to throw up.
“I gave Phelps point on this so we start hitting them tomorrow.” He could practically see Kowalski
foaming at the mouth.
Jeremy Phelps was a decent cop. Gabe had been partnered with him on a few cases when he’d first
transferred from Connecticut and felt at ease with the devoted family man. Now that man would be in
Angelo’s sights.
Fuck. He balled his hands into fists. He was now in the most untenable position ever. Did he warn
Angelo about the raids? Urge Phelps and his crew to be hypervigilant?
Drugs, fucking drugs.
“I called you in to tell you the shooter was caught,” Kowalski said as he got to his feet, “and to let
you know we’re going after those bastards hardcore for what they did to you out there. I just wish you
could be there when we haul them in.”
Gabe grinned weakly. “Me too.” He stood and walked over to the door. “Hopefully, I’ll be back in
time.”
“Let’s hope.” Kowalski slapped him on the back, drawing a choked gasp.
“Later, Cap.” He shook Kowalski’s hand and stiffened his spine as he walked back through the squad
room.
“Yo, Ashby.”
Shit! He jerked to a stop as Phelps moved away from a crowd of officers and beelined for him.
Damn, how did he look the man in the eye?
“What’s up, Jeremy?” He held out a hand and Phelps clasped it tightly.
“Did Cap tell you?”
Gabe nodded at the other man. Phelps stood a foot shorter than his six-two frame. “Yeah, he gave me
the highlights.”
“Yeah, man.” Phelps nodded. “Seems Pagan dealt with the guy who shot you, but we’ve got a surprise
for his ass.”
Gabe pasted on the obligatory gleeful expression and remained quiet as Phelps gloated about the
plans they had for Los Pescadores and Angelo Pagan. Gabe tuned him out. He was torn between his
anger at Angelo and wanting to punch Phelps in the face for his blatant bloodlust where Angelo was
concerned.
“I’m telling you, Ashby. This time we can’t lose.” Phelps flashed a bright smile. “We’ll get the
bastard, for sure.”
“Well, good luck.” Gabe moved past him, but Phelps fell in step with him.
“How’s your shoulder, by the way? Bet that little lady you have at home is pampering the shit out of
you.” Phelps winked at him with a knowing grin.
Gabe pushed open the door and walked outside, Phelps right there with him. “Nah, we broke up
awhile ago.” He didn’t feel as weird as he used to when saying that.
“Ah man, that sucks. Sorry.” Phelps laid a hand on Gabe’s forearm. “You okay?”
Gabe wrinkled his brow. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He hurried to the parking lot to pick up his car
and wouldn’t you know it, Phelps was right in step with him.
“Hey, man, I’m just saying. First you get shot then your woman leaves. Most people wouldn’t be
okay.”
Gabe shrugged. “I’m not most people.”
“I hear that.” Phelps slapped him on the back. “Listen, I didn’t get to ask you before…” Phelps
lowered his voice and stood closer to Gabe. “Do you remember anything about the shooting, I mean
any little thing at all?”
The hairs on Gabe’s nape stood up. He had no idea why, but he took a step back. Did he miss
something? Why would Phelps question him about this now? “Uh, nah, man. I still can’t remember
much.”
Okay, he was not imagining the predatory gleam in Phelps’ eyes as he shrugged and offered a small
smile. “Just asking. If you do remember don’t hesitate to call me, I’m running point on this so anything
at all could help. More ammo against Pagan and Los P, yeah?”
Gabe chuckled with mirth he didn’t feel. Suddenly everything felt as if he’d stepped into an alternate
reality. His lover was killing people on his behalf, his colleagues were on a manhunt for said lover,
and the body count could pile up if he stayed silent and didn’t warn anybody.
But who?
Whoever he chose to warn, he’d be choosing over the other. He’d known there would be a choice to
make, he just hadn’t figured on it being this soon. He scrubbed a hand over his face and stepped away
from Phelps.
“Listen, I gotta go. Thanks for the chat.”
“Yeah, me too. Got a hot tip.”
Phelps ambled away and Gabe followed him with his gaze. All the times he’d worked side by side
with Phelps, he’d never been as uncomfortable as he was just now. Was it on him though? A part of
his guilty conscience or was there something he was missing?
Shaking his head, Gabe unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel. He needed to get his mind right
and his priorities in order. Everything was becoming way too real, way too fast, and he had to talk
with Angelo before he did anything else.
A choice needed to be made tonight, one he didn’t look forward to making.
Chapter Six
“How much merch are you looking to unload?” Angelo tapped away on his laptop, running a
search for the same guns he was negotiating to buy. He was a businessman and as such he had to know
the source of his products. If the guns the Brazilians were unloading were hot, he was passing.
“I’ve got three crates on their way to a loading dock in Jersey. Fifty to a crate.” The low, deep
voice on the other end of the line was familiar, not that he knew what Faro looked like. Angelo
doubted the man’s name was even Faro, but he’d done business with them twice before and had no
problems.
Still, it paid not to sleep on those fucking Brazilians. They could be treacherous. “I don’t need all
that merch,” Angelo said. “My buyers are mostly filled up and those who need don’t want it all. It
does me no good to lay out the money for the whole thing then have no way to move it fast.” Here
he’d gauge Faro’s desperation, if the other man pushed too hard or too soft, Angelo would walk away
from the negotiating table.
“These are cream of the crop,” Faro said softly. “Straight from the manufacturer. You know their
worth and I think you can knock down the three crates in no time with your usual sales pitch.”
Ah, flattery. “You’ve been on the receiving end of my sales pitch?” He wouldn’t doubt it. He did his
sales pitches over the phone mostly, conferencing with buyers all over the world.
“I have.”
“Then you know flattery doesn’t do it for me. Your employer has someone inside the manufacturing
plant?”
“Maybe.”
That would be a yes. “Then you’d get the goods for at worst half off, yet you’re selling them to me at
cost.” Either Faro forgot who he was talking to or he deliberately let the bit about the manufacturer
slip. The latter no doubt, but that would put Angelo—the buyer—in a better position than the seller.
Why would that be?
“Your contracts with us have been quite profitable for both sides,” Faro said. “We tend to deal more
with people who make us money.”
No kidding. “You’re doing a whole lot of talking, but you’re not saying anything. You try fucking me
over and I gotta wonder how many times have you done so and when do I get my share of the
pleasure?”
“What do you want?” An edge crept into Faro’s voice.
Angelo grinned. “I want the three crates for a third of your asking price and all future transactions to
follow suit.”
Low voices carried through the phone as Faro conferred with his boss. Angelo stretched his legs out
on the coffee table, the phone held to his ear by his shoulder. Across from him, Pablo worked on
another laptop, sending out a call to all their buyers that they were coming into more stock. Quick
turnovers were always the best in his line of work.
“Okay, that’s doable.” Faro came back on the line. “Here’s what you’ll need.”
Angelo wrote down the pertinent information for his shipment and contact in Jersey with a smug
smile.
“Final price will be five hundred thousand and—”
“Hold on there, Faro. I’ve got one more condition.”
Pablo looked up from his computer screen with a raised eyebrow. Angelo just
grinned at him.
“What now?”
Damn, Faro sounded as if he stood at the edge of his jumping-off point. “I want to be the only one
who sells your guns on the East Coast. Cut out the
buyers in Philly and Miami and we’re in business.”
Pablo’s mouth dropped open. Silence greeted his words on the phone. He was aiming ambitious,
but the profits would be worth it and he had no doubt Faro’s boss would come to the same
conclusion.
“And if we say no?” Faro challenged.
“Then you’d lose a very profitable customer and any sales from New York, which I know makes
up a third of your overall sales of guns…plus the three crates in Jersey.”
“That’s a very expensive threat, Mr. Pagan.” Faro spoke slowly, carefully. “Can you back it up?”
“You know I can and I will. Hell, I could even throw my lot in with the Russians and give you guys a
run for your money.” That particular threat should light a fire under Faro’s boss. The Brazilians and
Russians had been in stiff competition for the US gun trade for years.
Faro sighed. “I’ll have to discuss it with my boss.”
“You have five seconds.” It didn’t pay to act soft and malleable with these people. He had to make it
understood how serious he was and what steps he’d be willing to take to ensure his goal. Los
Pescadores was a small gang compared to the Blood and Crips, not as notorious outside of New
York, but while those fools killed each other and aimed small time he had his eye on the clouds.
“Done.”
The one word rang with a tangible finality. A wide smile broke out on his face and he flashed Pablo a
thumbs-up. His second grinned.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Faro. You should stop by Brooklyn sometime, I’d treat you to a
Corona.”
Faro grunted. “With all that money you pulled out of us today, better make it something far more
potent…and expensive.”
Angelo chuckled as Pablo’s phone went off. “Done.”
“We’ll talk again, Mr. Pagan.”
“I look forward to it.” He hung up and laced his fingers behind his head. Today had been a productive
day, would have been great if not for the Gordo incident this morning. He saved a whole lot of
money, lined up a most unattainable contract, and spoke to Gabe. The latter brought a shiver to his
skin and heat to his groin.
He couldn’t wait for business to be over so he could head over to Queens to see his man. Never
thought I’d ever get to say that, my man.
“Boss, that was one of our men on the inside.” Pablo placed his cell phone on the coffee table next to
Angelo’s feet. “He wants to meet, he has news.”
* * * * *
Pablo maneuvered the SUV through the fast food drive-thru as Angelo kept his eyes peeled. He
spotted the green Toyota and unlocked the SUV. A hooded figure dashed from behind the Toyota and
leapt for the SUV, opening the back passenger door and jumping in.
Angelo rolled his eyes. Pablo fought to hide his grimace. Dealing with the delusional detective
was always a trip, but the man had his uses.
“What’s up, Phelps?”
“Yo, Angelo. Pablo.” Phelps leaned forward. “You gonna order something?” he asked Pablo. “I
could use a soda. I’m parched.”
Angelo nodded when Pablo looked to him for confirmation. “You said you had news, Phelps.”
“Yeah, today we got orders straight from the top to start leaning on Los P harder. Beginning
tomorrow we’ll be doing raids on all your buildings and warehouses.”
Angelo grunted. This he didn’t expect. “Did you find the body where I told you to look?”
“I did and my captain brought Ashby in to identify Manny.”
Damn, Gabe knew. Fuck. Fuck.
“So why are your people still pushing this shit so hard?” Pablo asked as he handed Phelps his drink.
“They have the body of the man who shot the cop.”
“Yeah, but you lost one of your guys to an overdose the other day.” Phelps sipped his soda. “They
now think you’ve taken up the drug trade so it’s all systems go.”
“Fuck it!” Angelo pounded on the dashboard. All he could think about was that Gabe knew he killed
Manny and why. Did he think Angelo had started running drugs in his own neighborhood too?
“Don’t worry.” Pablo threw Phelps a smug glance. “They won’t find a thing, no matter how hard they
search.”
“I tried asking Ashby what he saw at the warehouse that day but he was acting weird. I think he does
remember something,” Phelps said. “Maybe he can have an accident or something? You know, shut
him up for good?”
I’d like to see you try. “Cop killing isn’t something Los P does,” Angelo said icily. “And if we did,
I’d be the one to make that call. I suggest you remember your role, Phelps. Don’t make the mistake in
thinking you’re safe. In the end you’re just a rat and those rodents always get stomped on.”
* * * * *
Angelo parked his SUV three blocks away from Gabe’s place and hopped out, a box of pizza in
hand. He hurriedly sent a text to Gabe.
Be there in five.
He inhaled a lungful of surprisingly mild air and walked toward Gabe, his heart in his throat. He
didn’t look forward to seeing the condemnation and disappointment in Gabe’s eyes. His actions in
taking care of Manny were justified, but Gabe wouldn’t see it that way.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out with trepidation, half expecting to see the words
“don’t bother coming”. Instead he read, Back door open. He quickened his steps, each one bringing
him closer to the last person he wanted to think less of him.
Unhooking the latch on Gabe’s front gate, he stepped onto the property and closed it behind him then
circled around the house to the back door. He pulled it open and stepped inside the toasty kitchen.
As he locked the door behind him he looked around for Gabe, but all he saw was two empty beer
cans on the kitchen table.
Fuck. Placing the pizza on the table, he yelled for Gabe. No answer so he walked into the living
room. Gabe sat on the couch in the darkness staring at the TV. Angelo moved his gaze from Gabe’s
impassive face to the TV and froze. His neighborhood was on the news, a picture of Auggie in the
foreground as bold red letters flashed Drugs infesting Sunset Park streets.
“¡Cristo!” He shoved his fingers through his hair as he approached Gabe. “Amado, I can explain.”
“You can try.” Gabe didn’t look at him.
Angelo flicked on the overhead light and sat opposite Gabe. His man’s face was hard, his eyes
unforgiving even as he refused to meet Angelo’s gaze. “Will you—look at me, please?”
Gabe did after a pause, but his eyes remained hostile. “Well, go on. Explain.”
Jesus. Angelo couldn’t find his words suddenly. “W-what do you want me to say?”
The first signs of life sparked in Gabe’s eyes. Incredulity stared Angelo down. “What do I want you
to say? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?” Gabe jumped up from the couch. “You killed
someone because of me, did you think I wouldn’t find out? Didn’t you think I’d find out you’re running
drugs on the streets?”
“I’m not—”
Gabe advanced on him, pain etched on his face and Angelo ached to haul him into his arms and erase
the hurt.
“I can’t believe you’d put me in this position.” Gabe’s breath hitched. “I can’t believe I let you.” He
turned away and Angelo grabbed his arm.
“Por favor, Gabe.” He stood, his hold on Gabe tightening. The apology was on the tip of his tongue,
but if he spoke it out loud it would only be words. He wasn’t sorry Manny was dead. “I’m the head of
Los P, I have to make an example of someone if they fall out of line.”
“Is that all you are? The leader of Los P?” Gabe yanked his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me what
you did the last time we spoke about Manny?”
Angelo shrugged. “Why would I? It’s Los P business and—”
“I am not fucking Los P.” Fists clenched, Gabe got in his face, nostrils flared, eyes wide. “I am not in
a relationship with Los P. I’m with you. I’m fucking you. You owe me an explanation.”
Angelo’s throat burned. Gabe was right, of course. He cupped his lover’s stubbled jaw and pressed
their foreheads together. “You’re right. Lo siento.” He brushed a kiss over Gabe’s stiff lips and
pointed to the couch. “Sit and I will explain.”
Gabe’s brow wrinkled, but he sat. Anglo turned off the TV and dropped to the floor beside the couch.
Taking Gabe’s hand in his, he said, “I don’t deal in drugs. Never have and never will.”
“Then why are they on the streets you control?”
Angelo’s mouth tightened. “That’s a very long story and one that requires food.” He got to his feet and
hurried to the kitchen where he grabbed the pizza and two bottles of water from the fridge.
Back in the living room he handed one of the waters to Gabe and placed the pizza on the couch next to
him. Appetite long gone, he watched Gabe eat as he began speaking.
“When my mother was eighteen she met two brothers at a house party. My dad and uncle. She liked
my dad and he liked her, but he was with someone else, so when my uncle asked her out she said
yes.”
He took a sip of water to wet his throat.
“My mom and uncle began dating, but she soon figured out he was massively controlling and
aggressive. She wanted out, but he threatened her so she stayed. During that time, my dad became
single and one night he and my mom got together.”
Gabe looked down at him. “She cheated on your uncle with your dad?”
Angelo nodded. “They loved each other, but they didn’t know how to tell my uncle. He was violent
and they feared he’d hurt Mami. The two of them began having an affair under his nose and a few
months later Mami found out she was pregnant.”
Gabe’s eyes got wider.
“My mother didn’t know who the father was.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah. The entire length of her pregnancy, both men thought they were. My father, in secret, and my
uncle, in public. When she gave birth my uncle was in the room and immediately knew, upon seeing
my face, that I wasn’t his son. He went crazy.”
“I can understand the whole going crazy part. He’d been betrayed,” Gabe said.
“Sí. He took us hostage that day, holding me and my mom in the hospital room at gunpoint.
Threatening to kill me then her.”
Gabe made a sound and slid his fingers into Angelo’s hair.
“He calmed down after a few hours and let us out, but that wasn’t the last from him. He’d been
deceived and betrayed and he needed to make us pay. Not just my mom and dad, but me too. He tried
to bribe my babysitters to bring me to him. When they refused, he tried threats. My parents were now
together and my father was doing big things with the gang at the time. Then one day, when I was three,
I went missing.”
“What happened?”
“He finally found a weak babysitter who caved at the amount of money he offered, which I’m told
was a shitload.” He’d never figured out if he should be flattered at the amount of money Carlos was
willing to offer for him.
“How did your parents get you back?”
Angelo shrugged. “My dad tortured the babysitter until she talked. When they found me in Long
Island, I’d been gone for three days.”
“How come none of this is in your file?”
“My parents didn’t report it, my father dealt with it himself. Even today, only a handful of people
know. They sent me away after that, to Seattle to live with a friend of a family friend. I grew up a
happy, safe kid, but I missed my parents, talking to them wasn’t enough so I ran away. Headed to New
York when I was seventeen.”
“Jesus.”
“Yep. Especially when my uncle’s people found me walking down a Manhattan sidewalk. They
brought me to him. Apparently there was a bounty on my head and he held me for months.” He
shuddered as he recalled the pain of that time period.
“Did he… What did he do to you?” Hesitant fingers touch his cheek.
“He had me shackled at all times. Naked and on display for him and his crew to get their jollies. He
whipped me with a belt whenever I disobeyed him, which was quite often, and forgot to feed me
many, many times.”
“God.”
Angelo stared, unseeing. “I could take the pain of punishment but not the sick, twisted way he sought
to reward me when I did something that pleased him.”
“What did he do?”
Angelo swallowed. “He brought in his whores, the women who peddled their bodies on the streets
for him, and let them loose on me. I had to perform sexually with them, sometimes more than one at a
time, in front of an audience. I’d known since I was fourteen I was gay and that remains the hardest
thing I’ve ever done.”
Gabe slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around Angelo’s shoulders. “God, babe. I’m so sorry.”
Angelo squeezed him as his eyes burned. “I survived. I didn’t let him break me and I never doubted
my father would find me. He did awhile later. I returned to my family where I was loved and
protected and went on to college.”
“That’s in your file.” Gabe kissed his neck. “You dropped out with one year left to graduate.”
“That’s when my father was killed. Shot in the back of the head and knifed by my uncle.”
“Why is he still alive then?”
“A day after the stabbing he got locked up on a gun charge and got sent up for eight years. He’s been
back almost six months.”
“And you’re in a war?” Gabe pulled away and met Angelo’s gaze. “You’re gonna sink as low as he
has?”
“He killed Catarina, Gabe. He hired Manny to kill her.”
“That’s why you killed him?”
“Yes, but also for you.” Gabe opened his mouth, but Angelo ignored him. “He can’t attempt to take
you away from me and not be punished.”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Tell me about the drugs and the man you lost.”
“Auggie.” Angelo shook his head. “That shit was senseless and vile, orchestrated by my uncle to have
the streets turn against me. I’ve always promised no drugs, it’s one of my steadfast rules, yet one of
my soldiers dies from an overdose. The whole of Los P territory is in an uproar.”
“Exactly what your uncle wanted.”
“Yes.” He grabbed Gabe’s chin and stared into his eyes. “I don’t deal in drugs. Never have, never
will. I’m working to find out exactly what kind of pills Auggie got, but no luck yet. I may have to go
directly to the source.”
“Is that a good idea?” Gabe’s arms tightened around him.
“Best one I’ve got.”
They held on to each other in silence. Angelo felt the steady thump of Gabe’s heart with his lover
pressed so tight against him. He dragged his fingers into Gabe’s hair, scraping his scalp. Gabe
reciprocated, twisting strands of Angelo’s hair around a finger as he shuddered and sighed.
“I was so mad at you,” Gabe confessed with his lips to Angelo’s neck. “I felt like I’d have to choose
between you and my job and I had no idea what my decision would be.”
Angelo tipped his head back to meet Gabe’s eyes. “I know I ask a lot of you, but that’s not even half
of what I want. I’m a selfish bastard.”
“Are you willing to give the same?”
“Yes.” Not a fucking doubt about that. “Yes.”
“I want the truth from you. Always.” Gabe’s eyes were serious. “That shit like today, being
blindsided with the news about Auggie, Manny and the drugs. Don’t let it happen again.”
Angelo managed a smile as he brushed a thumb over Gabe’s bottom lip. “I take it the rules we
established earlier are being left at the wayside?”
Gabe leaned forward, brushing his lips over Angelo’s forehead and nose. “Uhhuh.”
Angelo chuckled and cupped his nape, hauling him closer as he covered Gabe’s mouth with his,
kissing his man with greedy strokes of his tongue and sharp nips. Gabe opened for him, shifting until
he sat astride Angelo, rocking his jean-clad ass over Angelo’s equally covered crotch.
Angelo cupped Gabe’s ass, urging him to move faster, harder as he canted his pelvis forward. His
heavy balls begged for release, but he ignored them in favor of just grinding on Gabe. Breaking the
kiss, he dragged his mouth across Gabe’s jaw to his left ear where he caught the lobe in his mouth.
“You said something about shopping earlier. What did you buy exactly?” He squeezed his hand down
the back of Gabe’s jeans and under the waistband of his underwear.
“Hmm.” Gabe’s fingers in Angelo’s hair tightened painfully. “I got about a month’s supply of rubbers
and a whole variety of lube.”
Angelo trailed a finger down his crack and Gabe flinched. His chest heaved as his words slowed to a
crawl.
“I didn’t know what kind to get so I got ’em all.” He clutched Angelo’s shoulders as he stammered.
“I-I also did some online shopping.”
“You don’t say.” Angelo feathered the pad of his index finger over Gabe’s hole while worrying his
earlobe with his teeth. “What did you buy online, amado?”
“Ah.” Gabe’s hips rocked. He threw his head back, teeth sunk into his lower lip. “I got toys and
plugs.”
Angelo grinned. “You did?” Inserting the tip of his pinkie into Gabe, he asked, “Will you be wanting
to use those toys and plugs on me, amado?”
Gabe’s lashes fluttered open. “That was my hope, yes.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Angelo worked more of his pinkie into Gabe’s body, savoring the tight heat and softness. “Do I get to
reciprocate?”
“Fuck yeah.” Gabe wiggled, drawing the remaining length of Angelo’s finger into him. “God.” His
muscles did a squeeze and release around Angelo.
Angelo took his mouth again, thrusting his tongue deep, mouth-fucking Gabe as he humped the finger
in his ass with small grunts. He loved the sounds Gabe made when aroused, the look in his eyes that
spoke so clearly of his need for Angelo. After being so alone for so long, Angelo couldn’t wrap his
head around what Gabe meant to him.
Starved for touch all these years, he could happily binge on the slide of Gabe’s palm across his
cheek, or Gabe’s lips on him. He didn’t worry about not having a shot at Gabe’s ass yet, he really
loved bottoming right now.
Bottoming for Gabe.
“Know what I want?’ he whispered in Gabe’s ear as he thrust into him. “I want you to fuck me
without barriers, without a condom.”
Gabe stiffened and drew away. “What?”
“Tomorrow I’ll get myself tested then I want there to be no barriers between us.” He stared into
Gabe’s cloudy gray eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.
“I’ve never gone raw with anyone, not even Trish.” Gabe licked his lips. “I never thought about it in
regards to us.”
“Do you want to, with us?” Angelo never even thought about it until he spoke the words, but it felt
right. What he shared with Gabe, there should be no barriers, physical or otherwise.
“I did a physical a few weeks ago. I was clean and since then I’ve only been with you, with condoms.
I’m good.” Gabe nodded, a bright smile blossoming on his face. “Let’s do it.”
Angelo gathered him close, tucking his chin in Gabe’s shoulder. “Let’s do it.” He kissed Gabe then
removed his hand from the back of his pants. Lifting Gabe off his lap, he got to his feet and held out a
hand to him. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Gabe took his hand and Angelo pulled him upright.
“Mami gave me something to help you with your shoulder. You have to soak in the bath.” Angelo
walked back to the kitchen, retrieving the box of Epsom salts that he held up for Gabe to see. “I’m
supposed to draw you a hot bath, pour this in, and have you soak for a while.”
Gabe frowned. “But what about this?” He pointed to his erection outlining his zipper. “Thought we
were about to get nasty?”
Angelo laughed. “Nasty? Seriously?”
“Whatever.” Gabe grabbed him around the waist as he passed by. “You just gonna get me hard and
walk away, tease?” He palmed Angelo’s aching cock. “You’re just as ready.” Gabe backed him into
the wall and rubbed his crotch over Angelo’s.
“Aahh.” Angelo bucked when Gabe sank his teeth into his shoulder. “Damn, that’s for later.” He
ground against Gabe, breath leaving him in gasps. “First you soak then we fuck.”
“Damn it!” Gabe backed away with one last wet lick on Angelo’s shoulder. “Fine.” He marched
toward the stairs. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter Seven
Angelo sat on the floor beside the tub as Gabe lay submerged in the warm water. His ankles and
head were the only things visible.
“Tell me again, how is this supposed to work?”
Angelo smiled at Gabe’s skeptical tone. “Mami saw something about it on TV…or maybe she read it
somewhere, either way it’s supposed to relax your muscles.” He dipped his hand in the water and
drew circles on Gabe’s chest.
“Sex would’ve done the same thing, no?” Gabe grinned up at him and Angelo laughed.
“Is that all you can think about?’
“Well, you did have a finger up my ass a few minutes ago.” Gabe shrugged. “What should I be
thinking about if not that?”
Angelo shook his head and mock-glared at him. “Maybe I’m being a bad influence on you, young
man.”
“Yes, you are.” Gabe trapped Angelo’s hand and dragged it lower, covering his crotch. “Influence
some more.”
Angelo squeezed him. Gabe arched. “Be a good boy and do as you’re told and maybe you’ll get a
reward.”
“Reward, hmm?” Gabe squinted. “Does it have something to do with me coming down your throat?
’Cause I’m all for that.”
Angelo’s dick lengthened at the words. “Where’s the innocent, young detective I once knew, huh?
He’s disappeared and been replaced with a wanton.”
Gabe flicked his wet hand at him. “You turned me into a wanton and I’m not young. I happen to be
three years older than you, son.”
“Yes you are, old man.” Angelo chortled at the death glare Gabe leveled at him.
“Speaking of which, your birthday is coming up in two days.”
“How did you—”
“Your file.”
“Ah.”
“So what are you doing to celebrate turning thirty-two?” Gabe laced their fingers. “Party?”
Angelo shook his head. “I had plans with Catarina.” He looked away. “Every year on my birthday we
go to Miami. Started when she turned twenty-one. I don’t have anything else planned this year.”
“I’m sorry.” Gabe kissed their fingers. “I know I’m a poor substitute to Catarina or Miami, but I’d
love to be with you on that day. If you want to.”
Angelo stared down at their fingers, emotions burning in his throat. He raised his gaze to Gabe’s
hesitant stare. “You’re anything but a poor substitute. I wouldn’t want to be with anybody else.”
Gabe’s eyes lit up.
“I’d probably have to spend some time with my mother, but after that I’m all yours.”
“Good.” Gabe smiled. “I’ve thought about it, you know.”
“Hmm, what?”
“Meeting her. Your mother. I’d like to.”
“What? Really, you’re sure?”
Gabe looked a little green around the gills when he laughed. “No, I’m not sure. Scared shitless,
actually, but I still want to meet her.”
Angelo leaned over and hugged him tight. “She’ll love you.” He kissed Gabe’s forehead. “Thank
you.” He hadn’t realized how much he wanted the two of them to meet until now. He wanted his
mother to know Gabe and to see that the cop was a good man. One Angelo didn’t deserve, but was
keeping anyway.
“You’re welcome,” Gabe whispered. “Now, let me get out of here so you can reward me proper-
like.”
Angelo grasped him by the underarms and helped him out the tub. Once his feet were planted on the
tiled floor, Gabe pressed his wet body up against Angelo’s, soaking his front.
“Looks like you’ll have to get undressed.” Gabe pulled away with a smirk. “You may also want to
think about joining me in the shower.” He winked and stepped into the shower while Angelo gaped at
him.
“You think you’re slick, don’t you?” Angelo kicked off his Air Force Ones and toed off his jeans
while he jerked his sweater over his head. He heard Gabe’s snicker over the running shower.
“Not if you don’t hurry that gorgeous ass up,” Gabe said loudly. “I need help with my um…back?”
Angelo couldn’t help the burst of laughter as he drew aside the glass door and entered the shower.
Gabe stood under the shower facing him, water cascading over his head and down his shoulders,
sluicing across his pecs and torso.
“Hey.” Droplets of water glittered on Gabe’s lashes when he blinked. He opened his arms and
Angelo raced into them.
“Hey.” Their lips met, wet and hungry, tongues twisting, thrusting. Gabe palmed his ass, pulling him
in tighter, rocking their erections together.
Angelo groaned at the slick friction as their cocks slid over each other. He broke the kiss, nipping at
Gabe’s neck and shoulder, nails sinking into his back as he rolled his hips. He licked his way down
Gabe’s chest, flicking the tip of his tongue over a flat brown nipple.
Gabe’s breath hitched. “Oh yeah.”
Angelo captured a nipple with his teeth, nipping gently then harder when Gabe’s nails clawed his
shoulders. He switched his attentions to the other nipple, licking and biting until Gabe pushed at his
shoulders.
He straightened, wiping water from his eyes and watched as Gabe soaped himself down, front and
back, then his cock. Gabe stroked himself with soapy hands and Angelo did the same, pulling at his
erection, eyes glued to Gabe’s hands.
“Stop.”
His gaze flew to Gabe’s.
“Hands off your cock, Pagan.” Gabe rinsed himself off with a crooked smile. “I want you on your
knees.”
“I—” Angelo licked his lips. Anticipation drove him to his knees before he knew what he’d done.
The cold, hard tiles of the shower floor bit into his flesh but he ignored it, looking up at the adoring
look in Gabe’s eyes.
Cupping his erection, Gabe stepped closer, away from the direct spray of the shower, and brought it
to Angelo’s lips. “I want your mouth on me,” Gabe growled. “Wanna fuck that sexy mouth of yours.”
Angelo moaned. His balls and cock throbbed and he rubbed the heel of his palm over his groin.
“No touching yourself,” Gabe said. A bead of pre-cum glistened on the red tip of his cock and he
wiped across Angelo’s bottom lip.
Angelo lapped it up.
“Let’s see how long you can keep from coming.” Gabe nudged him with his cock, the head pulsed hot
on his lips. “Open.”
Angelo obeyed, parting his lips, and Gabe eased inside.
“Hands flat on your thighs,” Gabe instructed. Angelo obeyed and Gabe slid his fingers through his
hair, petting him. “Suck me.”
Angelo swiped his tongue over Gabe’s slit, moaning at the potent taste of bitter salt before he sealed
his lips around him, hollowed his cheeks and sucked.
“Aahh.” Gabe planted a palm on the wall and moved in small thrusts.
Angelo sucked him with his eyes closed, savoring the wet sounds of his mouth, Gabe’s harsh breaths
over his head and the taste of him melting on his tongue. He’d never had the chance to do any of this
before, hadn’t indulged with anyone except Gabe and he was glad of that.
Gabe’s hips sped up and he began thrusting harder. Angelo opened his eyes and looked up. Gabe
stared down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, wet lips parted, cheekbones flushed.
“You love it, don’t you? Sucking my cock?”
He bobbed his head, taking Gabe deeper and his lover yanked on his hair, jerking his head up. Angelo
groaned.
“You love sucking my cock, don’t you?” Fierce heat blazed in the depths of Gabe’s gray eyes, burning
Angelo’s skin.
He nodded.
Gabe pulled back, taking his cock away. Angelo moaned in frustration, but Gabe smiled. “Mouth
open.”
Angelo dropped his jaw.
“Yeah, just stay like that.” Gabe canted his hips forward, his cock sliding between Angelo’s lips
before he withdrew. “You look so fucking hot for me.” He slid in then out again.
Angelo’s balls churned with the need to come. He did love it, the way Gabe naturally took charge,
taking decisions out of Angelo’s hands. Ordering him around. He loved it.
“Open wider.”
Strain tightened the lines of Gabe’s body. His cock seemed to swell against Angelo’s lips and he
grinned inwardly. He wasn’t the only one on the edge.
“I’m gonna fuck you harder.” Gabe slammed into Angelo’s mouth. They groaned. The orgasm in
Angelo’s balls traveled up, up, up.
“Come down your throat.” Gabe’s words were barely audible over the roaring in Angelo’s ears.
“Oh fuck!” Gabe bucked. He held the back of Angelo’s head as cream flooded his taste buds.
Angelo let go, hips bucking wildly as he emptied his seed on the shower floor. He whimpered as
Gabe thrust into his mouth again.
“Oh God. Yeah, babe.” Gabe shuddered. “Swallow me down.”
Angelo swallowed around the cock in his mouth.
Gabe cried out, spurting more, filling his mouth. Angelo fought to swallow as much he could as Gabe
pulled out and milked the last of his cum over Angelo’s mouth and cheek.
“Fuuck.” Gabe blinked down at him “You’re so fucking hot, babe.” He wiped the cum off Angelo’s
cheek with two fingers and offered them to Angelo who sucked them into his mouth.
“Hmm.” He moaned around the fingers as he laved them.
Gabe’s stare turned inscrutable. He took back his fingers, wiped away the rest of his cum on Angelo’s
face and licked it off himself. When he finished he crooked a finger.
“Come here.”
Angelo rose slowly to his feet, his knees protesting the time spent on the floor. Gabe grabbed him by
the throat and Angelo shuddered, eyelids fluttering. He loved when Gabe held him like that.
Gabe kissed him, lips soft and clinging. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Angelo buried his face in Gabe’s shoulder. “Oh amado. You make it so easy.”
Gabe held his head with both hands until Angelo opened his eyes and met his tender gaze. “Go to the
bedroom.” Gabe kissed him again, this time hard and full of promise. “You’re gonna ride me.”
* * * * *
Angelo sat at the edge of the bed and waited for Gabe to emerge from the bathroom. His wet hair
clung to his shoulders, tickling skin pulled tight with anticipation. Stroking his cock leisurely, he
closed his eyes and recalled the look in Gabe’s eyes as Angelo sucked him, searing adoration, all for
him.
Fuck. He could come from the memory of that look alone.
A sound caught his attention and his eyes flew open. Gabe stood in front of him, water glistening
on his skin, plum-colored cock curved up and to the left. Angelo caressed it with his gaze, licking his
lips.
Gabe threw a leg over Angelo’s, straddling him while standing, buried his fingers in Angelo’s
hair and tilted his head up.
That gray gaze sparkled with a million bonfires, sweeping over Angelo’s face in a heated caress.
Angelo wrapped his arms around Gabe’s lean waist and pressed his forehead to his torso. They
stayed like that, Gabe’s fingers sifting through his hair.
“Sometimes it scares me how natural this is,” Gabe whispered. “How I don’t question the way I feel
about you. I don’t think anyone else can make me feel like I’m fucking melting every time I look into
their eyes. But you do.” He grabbed a fistful of Angelo’s hair and yanked his head back. “Every
single time, you do.”
“Amado, it’s the same for me.” What more could Angelo say? He felt adrift, rudderless, and the
thought didn’t inspire panic or despair. Gabe was with him, experiencing the same thing.
He leaned forward, sliding his tongue over the ridges on Gabe’s stomach, attempting to let his touch
do the talking. He’d convey his feelings to Gabe through every stroke, every lick.
Cupping Gabe’s ass, he kneaded the flesh as he kissed his way down his lover’s body, following the
dark treasure trail to the ultimate prize. He lapped up the translucent liquid slicking the flushed,
bulbous tip then dipped his tongue into the slit, probing as Gabe’s hold on his hair tightened and he
bucked. Angelo retreated, slurped the head once, twice, then went back to the slit.
“Don’t—aah, God.” Gabe shuddered. “Fucking love your tongue.”
Angelo held Gabe’s bucking hips still, hollowed his cheeks and swallowed Gabe’s length.
“Hmm. Oh yeah. That’s good.”
Relaxing his throat muscles, Angelo bobbed his head, taking Gabe deeper until his cock head nudged
the back of his throat. The heavy feel of Gabe against his tongue thrilled him. He inhaled, taking
Gabe’s clean musk into his lungs.
Nothing better than this.
Gabe’s hips snapped forward, pushing his cock deeper, grazing Angelo’s teeth. Gabe yelled. Angelo
swiped his tongue over him, then to the ridge on the underside of his head. As he anticipated, Gabe
started bucking wildly.
“Fuck, stop!” Gabe yanked Angelo’s head away and stepped back, wobbling. “Condoms and lube in
the drawer.” He pointed to the nightstand and climbed onto the bed. “Give me your ass.” Propped up
on pillows, Gabe lay back and stroked himself.
Angelo yanked at the drawer, searching blindly for the goods, never taking his eyes off his man on the
bed. His hand closed around a box, so he pulled it out and glanced at it.
Trojans.
Check.
He dipped his hand back in and found a tube.
Hello, lube.
Throwing his catch beside Gabe, he jumped onto the bed and straddled him. Lining up their cocks, he
rubbed them together, hissing at the delicious friction.
“Oh yeah.” He threw his head back, writhing, grinding on Gabe while his lover squeezed lube on his
fingers.
“Turn around.”
Angelo did as instructed, presenting his ass to Gabe as he reversed his position. Cold, slick fingers
pressed at his entrance, stealing his breath. He sank his fingers into the flesh of Gabe’s thigh as he
pushed inside.
“So tight and soft here,” Gabe murmured. He pushed his fingers deeper, twisting, thrusting as Angelo
gasped for air.
Chills brought goose bumps to Angelo’s skin with every brush of Gabe’s fingers over his prostate.
“More. Give me more.” He leaned forward, face lowered to Gabe’s ankles as he tipped his ass
higher.
Gabe complied with a grunt, pulling out and slamming into him. Angelo cried out, arching. He didn’t
know how many fingers Gabe had inside him, but that shit brought a burn to his ass and veins that
stung his eyes. Laying his cheek flat on the bed, he reached behind him and pulled apart his ass
cheeks.
“Hard,” he begged. “Gabe, por favor.” His voice shook, his mouth felt dry as a chip, but he reveled
in the sweet pain as Gabe thrust into him.
Hard and unrelenting, those sure fingers banged against his spot with uncanny precision. He rocked,
fucking himself on Gabe’s fingers.
“You’re so goddamn hot when you’re needy like this.” Gabe grunted as he slammed into Angelo again
and again. “I’ve got four fingers in your tight ass, babe, and you’re taking it all. Take it.”
Shit! Angelo got off on Gabe’s words as well as his actions and that growly voice had the orgasm in
his balls churning. He squeezed his muscles around those fingers.
“God, cop. You’re gonna make me come.”
“Don’t.”
Angelo stilled all movements at that sharp word.
“Come sit on me, I want to come inside you.” Gabe pulled his fingers out slowly, dragging against
Angelo’s prostate.
“Fuck!” He could barely move, but Angelo sat up and twisted around until he faced Gabe once more.
Seeing Gabe’s cock already gloved up, Angelo swung a leg over him and sank down.
Down.
Oh the fucking burn.
“Aahh.”
“Son of a bitch.” Gabe grabbed his hair and yanked him down. “Are you trying to kill me?” He kissed
away Angelo’s reply, biting, licking.
Their teeth clinked, lips mashed together as Angelo moved on him, riding the cock in his ass, their
groans spilling into the other’s mouth.
Gabe’s hands moved from Angelo’s hair, skated down his back, and cupped his ass cheeks as he
encouraged him to move. Flicking his tongue over Gabe’s chin and nose, Angelo drew his knees up to
either side of Gabe’s torso and moved.
His body burned from Gabe’s earlier preparation, but he found that burn easily dissolved into
pleasure. He squeezed his muscles, performing a catch and release on Gabe’s cock, and watched the
emotions fly across his lover’s face, blissed-out contentment colored his cheekbones while emotion
softened the lust and hunger in his stormy eyes.
Angelo kissed him. Soft lips clinging until Gabe squeezed his ass cheeks then thrust up, banging on his
prostate.
“Ugh.” Angelo grabbed the headboard, knuckles white as he held on. “Fuck me, amado. Make me
come.” He slammed down, mouth opening on a silent growl.
“Shit.” Gabe lifted his head, lips brushing Angelo’s chest, before capturing a nipple ring between his
teeth and tugging.
“Argh!” Angelo bucked wildly, ass clenching as he struggled to stay upright. Gabe pulled harder on
the ring while something joined his cock in thrusting into Angelo.
His finger.
“Jesus.” The tingling in his balls and spine grew wider, bigger. “Gabe, gonna…”
“Yes.”
Gabe slammed into him, finger and cock, and Angelo yelled out his release, shooting ropes of the
white stuff all over Gabe’s stomach. His lover arched, his cock swelled and throbbed inside Angelo,
then a hot sensation teased his insides.
Gabe came in the condom protecting them.
Angelo’s limbs ached, locked in one position for too long, but Gabe held him still and Angelo didn’t
even consider moving. Inside him Gabe throbbed, softening slowly. He wiped away the sweat on
Gabe’s hairline with his thumb then drew idle circles on his lover’s scalp. Gabe tilted his chin
upward, meeting his gaze. They stared into each other’s eyes, no words spoken, none needed as Gabe
slid a hand across Angelo’s shoulder, down his hand and linked their fingers.
There was vulnerability in Gabe’s eyes he hadn’t seen before. It mirrored the sensation in Angelo’s
chest. A strange tranquility hovered in the air around them, wrapping them in softness. Maybe he was
getting soft, but Angelo really didn’t care at the moment.
There weren’t a lot of times in his life he’d felt like this and hell if he didn’t love it. Hell if he didn’t
want more. All the time.
Jesus. Fear crept in then because he didn’t think he’d be able to survive losing Gabe.
Gabe rolled them suddenly, his flaccid length leaving Angelo’s body. Angelo found himself on his
back, blinking up into fierce eyes.
“I’m here,” Gabe murmured against his lips. “I’m here.”
Angelo grasped his shoulders, opening his mouth as Gabe’s tongue slid over his teeth and gums.
Angelo moaned into the kiss, stroking Gabe’s back, abandoning the fear in favor of more pleasurable
pursuits.
“Can I stay the night?” he asked.
Gabe lifted his head, lips wet, nostrils flared. His expression was guarded. “Do you want to?”
Fuck, he never wanted leave Gabe’s arms. “Sí.”
Gabe flashed the biggest smile Angelo had ever seen. “I would love it if you stayed the night.” Rising
on his knees, Gabe pulled off the condom and tossed it on the floor beside the bed before settling
back down next to Angelo. He kissed the tattoo of the cross wrapped in ivy on Angelo’s left biceps
and threw an arm over his chest.
Angelo pulled the covers up then leaned over and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. Gabe
snuggled into him, his warm breath brushing over Angelo’s chest. Tightening his arm around Gabe,
Angelo kissed his temple.
“Buenas noches, cop.”
Chapter Eight
A loud crash yanked Gabe from sleep. He jerked upright, blinking away the sun streaming in from
the windows and looked around for Angelo.
The spot next to him on the bed was rumpled. He laid a palm there. Still warm, so Angelo hadn’t left
too long ago.
Another loud crash came from downstairs, rocking the bed.
“Don’t fucking move!”
Kane? Was that his brother’s voice? Gabe jumped off the bed, pulling on his jeans from the night
before as he grabbed his gun from inside the nightstand.
“Kane?” Taking the stairs two at a time, he called for his brother. “Kane, what’s wrong?”
“You fucking tell me, Gabe.” His brother’s voice came from the kitchen, sounding more than pissed.
Gabe crept into the room, gun at the ready and stared. Angelo stood with his back against the sink in
only his tight, black shorts, a .9mm pointed at Kane who stood on the other side of the upturned table,
Glock pointed at Angelo.
“Boys.” Gabe tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and stepped over a broken chair littering
the floor. “Guns down, please.”
“What the fuck is this, Gabe?” Kane stared back at him with wide eyes, chest heaving. “Why is this
son of a bitch in your house?”
Gabe flicked his gaze between Angelo’s calm, almost bored expression and Kane’s out-for-blood
demeanor. “Guns down, then we talk.”
Angelo jerked his chin toward Kane. “After you, Marshal.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed. “I can shoot you right now, Pagan, and I’d get a fucking medal.” His fingers
tightened on the trigger, muscles bulging.
“You can try.” Gabe stepped in front of Angelo. “I’m not going to ask again. Guns down!”
His brother’s eyes flashed incredulity. “What is going on, Gabe?” He lowered his gun slowly,
bending over and placing it on the floor. Straightening, Kane barked, “Start talking.”
“Watch your tone, Marshal.” Angelo’s hot breath blasted Gabe’s neck before his lips brushed Gabe’s
skin. “Morning, babe.”
Kane choked.
Gabe tipped his head back, laying it on Angelo’s shoulder. Lifting a hand, he reached behind and
cupped Angelo’s head. “Hey.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kane lashed out. “You and him, Gabe? Since when are you—?”
“Since him.”
“But you know who he is. What he does.” Kane stepped toward him. “He’s a killer. A drug dealer.
Your job is to put people like him away, not sleep with them.” His mouth twisted in obvious scorn.
“I’m not talking to you unless you calm the fuck down,” Gabe told him. “Quit acting like a kid
throwing a tantrum.”
“I’m throwing a tantrum?” Kane poked himself in the chest. “Then what are you, having a midlife
crisis?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what is this? Suddenly you’re gay and you found the worst possible person to experiment
with?”
Angelo leaned down to Gabe. “Should I leave you guys alone?”
Gabe nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, babe.” He twisted around in Angelo’s arms and wrapped his arms
around Angelo’s naked waist. “I thought you’d left.”
Angelo cracked a smile. “I came down to make you coffee.” He winked. “Kinda liked waking up next
to you.”
“We’ll do it again.” Gabe kissed his throat. “Go cover up all that delicious skin.”
Angelo snapped a salute and walked out the room after flashing Kane a smirk.
Once Angelo disappeared up the stairs, Gabe swung around to his brother. “Did you bring coffee?”
The large vein in the middle of Kane’s forehead grew more pronounced. His mouth opened and
closed rapidly. Gabe swore if he looked long enough he’d see smoke coming out of his brother’s
ears. He held back a grin though. His brother had every reason to be confused, every reason to
question Gabe’s sanity.
“Come on.” He walked into the living room. “You need to sit down.” Before you topple over from
shock. That part he kept to himself. His older brother would not appreciate the humor.
Kane sank onto the couch, that stunned expression plastered all over his face. His eyes, the lightest
blue to Gabe’s gray, regarded Gabe as he would a stranger.
“What’s going on with you?” Kane’s voice shook. “Was it the shooting? Talk to me.”
Kane grabbed his knee with trembling hands and Gabe realized his brother was scared.
For me. “Look at me.”
Kane jerked his gaze up.
“Really look at me,” Gabe said. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
“Everything can’t be fine!” Kane exploded. “This is—this self-destructive shit isn’t you.” His voice
rose throughout the house and Gabe winced. “Even if you felt like…like you wanted to be with a man,
why him? Help me understand.”
Gabe sat quietly while his brother ranted. “You don’t have to understand. It’s my life, my decision
who I want to be with. Who I want to sleep with.”
Kane narrowed his eyes. “You’re being deliberately dense and it doesn’t suit you. Why him? When
this comes out, when people find out—and they will, if they haven’t already—your career will be
over. The reputation you’ve worked so hard to build will be decimated and for what?”
None of those questions were new to Gabe. He’d asked himself the same ones every day since
meeting Angelo, since that first kiss.
“Do you remember the first time you saw Bailey?”
Kane froze at the mention of his dead partner.
“Do you remember that first time you looked into his eyes and you melted?” Gabe touched Kane’s
shoulder. “I know you do, because you came home and couldn’t stop talking about him. You fell in
love with him when you looked into his eyes…your words.”
“D-don’t compare Bailey and Angelo Pagan.” Kane’s voice was a weak thread of sound. His eyes
flashed wild and his face crumpled slowly before he inhaled and visibly collected himself. “What
Bailey and I had—”
“Was amazing. Awesome. Over too soon.” Gabe nodded. “But I know what you guys had, and Kane,”
he grabbed his brother’s arm and squeezed tightly, “Angelo looks at me and I melt. He touches me and
I forget my name.”
Kane shook his head and scrubbed a hand across his face. “What about his crimes, do you
conveniently block those out too?”
As if he could. “I’m well aware of Angelo’s sins. I can’t sweep them under the rug and I don’t try. I
hate what he does and the life he leads, but there’s a difference between that and who he is. I can’t
hate him. I don’t want to.”
Kane let out a long-suffering sigh. “Since when have you been attracted to men, anyway?”
“I’m not.”
Kane looked at him as if he were crazy.
Gabe shrugged. “I’m not attracted to men like that.”
“Except the one naked in your kitchen.”
“Only the one naked in my kitchen.”
Kane’s lips twitched. The brothers sat in heavy silence until Gabe broke it.
“So you really didn’t bring coffee?”
Kane chuckled. “I left a message on your phone last night, said I was coming to take you to breakfast.”
“Didn’t get it.”
“Huh. I see that.”
They lapsed into silence again, the floorboards creaking over their heads as Angelo moved around
upstairs.
“You have way more to lose than him,” Kane said softly. “Way more.”
“Yes, but I also know more about his organization in these last few days than the NYPD ever will.”
“He talks to you?” Kane’s eyes widened. “That’s what counts as pillow talk nowadays?”
“We talk,” Gabe said. “He trusts me. I trust him.”
“Hope that trust isn’t misplaced.”
“When did you turn so cynical? You used to be a sap.” Gentling his voice, he said, “It’s been four
years, when will you give yourself permission to live again?” Lately Kane was consumed by his
work, hunting criminals all over the globe without a stop to breathe in between.
“Really?” Kane looked at him from the corner of his eye as footsteps thundered down the stairs.
“Don’t make this about me, please.”
Gabe opened his mouth but snapped it shut when Angelo came into view dressed in his clothes from
the day before, white t-shirt and leather jacket, dark jeans sagging and Timberlands, his Yankee blues
were pulled low over his eyes.
“Are you okay?” His gaze flicked from Gabe to Kane and back.
“Yeah.” Gabe nodded. “My big brother and I are fine.”
Kane grunted.
Angelo grinned.
Gabe frowned. “Wait. Do you guys know each other? ’Cause I’m picking up a definite hate vibe.”
Angelo shrugged. “We met each other when your brother was hunting a former associate of mine.”
“Associate, my ass,” Kane growled. “That rank bastard was your gun supplier for years.”
Angelo sighed as he brushed his hair off his shoulders. “Do you happen to have proof, Marshal? I
don’t think so. Still, your capture of Reynarde did make my life a bit…difficult.” He winked at Kane.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Enough, you.” He grabbed the edge of Angelo’s jacket and pulled him close.
“Are you leaving now?”
“Sí.” Angelo dipped his head and brushed his lips over Gabe’s. “I have to go see my uncle,” he
whispered.
“Jesus.” Gabe held him tighter. “Are you sure about this?” He stepped away and met Angelo’s gaze.
“I am, yes.” Determination shone in Angelo’s eyes. “The sooner, the better.”
“Fuck.” Gabe ran his fingers through his hair as fear coursed through him. “Be safe.” He cupped
Angelo’s jaw. “That’s a fucking order.”
“Got it.” Hauling him onto his chest, Angelo kissed him deeply, hungrily until Kane had the nerve to
clear his throat.
“I’m still in the goddamn room.”
Angelo lifted his head, gaze never leaving Gabe’s as he addressed Kane. “Yes, but why?”
“Okay, bye, babe.” He kissed Angelo’s chin. “Come by later and maybe I’ll cook for you.”
“Oh I’m definitely coming by later.” His golden gaze caressed Gabe’s face, lingering, then he jerked
his attention away. “It’s been a pleasure, Marshal.” He walked out the front door with a wink.
Gabe stared at his ass until the door closed behind it. Damn, can’t believe I get to fuck Angelo
Pagan.
“Well,” Kane spoke from the couch. “Speaking strictly as a gay man, that bastard’s body is a fucking
problem.” The gleam in his eyes said that was a very good thing.
Laughter bubbled up and spilled from Gabe’s lips. “Come on, big bro. Take me to breakfast.”
* * * * *
Angelo went to see his mother, sitting down to breakfast and finalizing a date to have dinner with
Gabe, before he drove over to the garage his uncle used as his hangout spot.
He’d deliberately stayed away from Carlos when the man got sprung, choosing to order his men to
keep tabs on him instead. They hadn’t met face-to-face in years. Angelo always feared he’d lose his
cool and beat his uncle down with his bare knuckles for all the pain Carlos perpetrated on him and
his family over the years. The wounds were still there in his mother’s eyes, haunting her day and
night.
He sat in the SUV across the street from Carlos’ garage, windows rolled up as he watched the
men standing at the entrance. Their casual stance and light banter didn’t fool him. They were the
gatekeepers, the bulge in the waistbands of their baggy jeans letting him know just how strapped they
were. He turned off Jay-Z’s 99 Problems and sat back, taking a deep breath to calm the knots in his
stomach.
Those knots weren’t for Carlos. No, they were for the memories staring into his eyes would
resurrect and Angelo needed to prepare himself. He emptied his pockets of everything but his cell
phones, turned up the collar on his wool coat and hopped out the car.
Probably should have told Gabe how I feel about him . Angelo pulled on black leather gloves as
he hurried across the street. The loud voices and laughter stopped. Men eased their hands into
waistbands, clutching their pieces no doubt, and he held his hands up, palms spread.
Walking into the lion’s den with no backup, no protection. No one but Gabe knew he’d be there
today.
“Easy, gentlemen.” He stopped in front of the group, meeting the eyes of Hugo, Carlos’ most loyal
man. More than once Angelo wished he’d sliced Hugo’s throat back when he had the bastard on his
knees and blubbering. “Hugo, long time no see. Hope you’ve grown a pair since then.”
A red flush darkened Hugo’s face, hate filled his eyes as he stepped forward.
Angelo allowed a lazy smile to curve his lips. “Back the fuck up, Hugo. We both know you don’t
blink without orders. Take me to see my uncle.”
Hugo growled as one of his friends laid a hand on his biceps, but he took that step back.
“I’ve got a bullet with your name on it,” Hugo promised.
“Really?” Angelo laughed. “I smell your fear from here.” He spat on the pavement. “Strong, like hot
piss.”
Hugo froze, only for a quick second, before heading into the back of the garage, but Angelo caught it.
That comment hit home. Hugo had pissed himself when Angelo stuck the muzzle of his .9mm in his
mouth. He grinned at the memory.
As Hugo disappeared through a back door, three guys flanked Angelo where he stood, hands now
clasped behind his back. Waiting. He ignored them, eyeing the blue candy paint on a low-riding
Chevy Impala.
Pretty.
The garage was a front for whatever mess Carlos decided to dip his grubby hands in, but they were
legitimate and did nice work. Back when Carlos was locked up, the place teemed with customers.
Today, aside from Angelo and the three-man team giving him the stink eye, the place was deserted.
Carlos was a fucking parasite, sucking blood from whatever and whomever managed to find
themselves stuck in his web.
His time was almost up though, Angelo would see to that.
A door banged inside the garage and he looked up. Hugo came back out, jaw set, eyes shooting
daggers at Angelo.
“Search him.”
Angelo smirked as the men shoved him against the wall and felt him up, rough hands dipping between
and sliding up his legs before they emptied his pockets. Nothing there but his cell phones and car
keys. They allowed him to keep possession of those while continuing their search.
Finished, they stepped back, frowns playing on their brows. Probably wondering who was crazy
enough to voluntarily step into Carlos’ lair without weapons.
“Follow me.” Hugo pointed at the men standing next to Angelo. “You, stay here. Eyes peeled, got it?”
He ducked back into the dark garage and Angelo followed.
Hugo led him into a small room, dusty and with bad lighting. Carlos sat on a threadbare sofa, a
woman clad only in a red thong asleep on his lap. Another woman, half of her head shaved bald, lay
on the dark carpet next to the couch, bare-assed naked.
Weed smoke and alcohol blended with the rank smell of stale sex and sweat. Another pair of Carlos’
lackeys sat in plastic chairs, eyes on Angelo, guns in their laps.
“Nephew, come to welcome me home at last.” Carlos sat up, dropping the woman in his lap onto the
couch. His white t-shirt clung to his skin, sweat stains around the neck and armpits.
Angelo stuck his hands in his pockets, wrinkling his nose in haughty distaste. “Still slumming, I see.”
“Not for long, I assure you.” Carlos grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Soon I’ll be where I
should’ve been all this time.”
He looked so much like his brother.
Angelo shook his head and lifted an eyebrow. “And where is that exactly? Sing Sing or the psych
ward?”
Carlos regarded him with clear, steady eyes. “You’ve got the legendary Pagan humor, nephew. Hope
it helps.”
Tiring of the inane banter, Angelo rocked back on his heels. “Stay away from Los P territory, you and
the idiots you keep as pets. Your plan, whatever it may be, won’t work.”
Carlos folded his arms, his low chuckles giving way to loud laughter. His men looked around, at each
other and him, before joining in.
Angelo rolled his eyes. Why do I feel like I’m in a bad gangster movie right now?
“And what do you know of my plan, nephew?” Running his palm over his dark, wavy hair thinning at
the top, Carlos winked. “You stay hidden behind the skirts of your mama and you think you know
what goes on in the streets? They were my streets before you ever thought to claim them as yours.”
“But I did claim them, tío. And I run them.” He waved a hand at the room at large. “I let you have this
rat-infested hole in the wall. I allow you and your pets to fucking breathe and you choose to take your
niece’s life. The streets you choose to flood with drugs.” Damn it, he was getting riled up. “You’re
crazier than I thought if you think I’d allow you to fucking breathe after what you did to Catarina.”
“Ah, but it’s been over a month since your darling sister kicked off.” Carlos sketched the sign of the
cross with a smirk. “How is Liliana? She must be devastated.”
Fire-hot rage boiled within Angelo. He curled his fists inside his jacket pocket and bit down on the
inside of his cheek, drawing blood. No signs. No signs. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction
of an expression. Wouldn’t let him know how raw those wounds still were. Instead Angelo pictured
the look in Gabe’s eyes this morning. That look so soft and intimate, calming him. Centering.
“My mother is the strongest person I know,” Angelo said softly. “Stronger than you, strong enough to
tangle with you and survive. She’ll outlive you, I can promise you that.”
Carlos’ eyes flashed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, nephew. Catarina and that soldier of
yours, their deaths are only the tip of the iceberg.” He leaned forward as if imparting a secret. “I’m
only just getting warmed up and unlike your sister’s death, yours won’t be quick. You’ll see it
coming.”
Angelo laughed. “Now who’s making promises he can’t keep? I’m not that scared seventeen-year-old
kid you snatched off the streets, tío. I fight back and unlike you, I get my hands dirty.” He stared into
the dark pools of hate that were his uncle’s eyes and smiled. “You’ve always been a coward, striking
from behind, going after women and children. You don’t have the balls for the big leagues. Never
have.”
The two men seated jumped to their feet, guns drawn. Angelo ignored them, holding his uncle’s gaze.
Carlos didn’t break their stare-off, but he waved his men back and got to his feet. The woman on the
floor made a sound, a little snore in her sleep as Carlos stepped over her and came to stand in front of
Angelo.
“For you, nephew, I’ll be making an exception.” Stale beer and sweat burned Angelo’s nose as
Carlos leaned in closer. “See these hands?” He held up both hands, black dirt caked under the nails of
fingers spread wide. “These hands will be squeezing the life out of you then touching your mother. It’s
a special occasion after all.”
Angelo ached to punch him in his face, to feel the satisfying crunch as bones cracked and broke under
his fists, but he held his ground, affecting a bored expression.
“You’ll have to do better. You don’t scare me.”
“But I did, didn’t I? When you were shackled to a bed, buck-naked.” A serene smile flashed on
Carlos’ face. “When you begged and pleaded with me to let you go. When you called out for Papa Sal
in your sleep.”
Angelo’s throat burned. He felt his calm façade crumbling inch by inch with each word his uncle
spoke.
“I had you broken,” Carlos said softly. Glee brightened his eyes, making him appear happier and
more like his brother, Angelo’s father. “I had you beaten and I had you willing to do anything.”
Tick. Tick. Tick. Angelo counted the ticks at his temple as Carlos spoke.
“Do you remember, nephew? You begged and pleaded, told me you’d do anything.” The most
sickening smile yet curved Carlos’ mouth.
Fear wormed its way through Angelo’s insides. His mind screamed at him to walk away, but he chose
not to listen. He was Angelo Pagan, the leader of Los P. He could deal with his uncle’s words. He
could deal with—
“‘I’ll do anything, Uncle.’” Carlos pitched his voice higher, mimicking a seventeenyear-old Angelo.
“‘Please, Uncle. Don’t make me do it, don’t make me do it.’”
The memories crashed over Angelo hard and fast. Feelings of total helplessness, of hunger, of pain.
Whips. Slaps. The complete darkness…and the women. One after the other they came, violating him
as his uncle watched.
And laughed.
His vision blurred, obscuring Carlos’ features as Angelo remembered it all. Even those he’d never
really forgotten. Laughter filled his ears, all around him, yanking him back to the present as Carlos
and his men took pleasure in those memories he’d rather forget.
Angelo grabbed Carlos by the throat, yanking him into his body as he backed into the wall. Carlos’
men yelled at him, pointing their weapons, but Angelo focused on his uncle, flipping him around and
using his body as a shield.
“Such pleasure you take in the pain of a child, tío. I’ll take even more in your death.” The pulse under
his fingers sped up. He squeezed tighter and Carlos sputtered, clawing at his hand. “I know your
weakness,” Angelo said. “I see them. I hear your heart thundering in your chest, feel your pulse race
and I know. You fear me.”
The men advanced slowly, yelling at Angelo to release their boss.
“You started this game when I was just an infant, but I’ll finish it.”
Carlos’ body heaved, his nails bit into Angelo’s skin as he dug in.
“Get your drugs off my streets.” He released Carlos abruptly and the other man’s knees buckled.
“Boss, you okay?” One of his uncle’s men held him upright while the other two grabbed Angelo’s
arms and slammed him into the wall.
His shoulders protested and he bit back a wince, breathing with the pain. Someone kneed him in the
nuts and he bit down on his tongue, refusing to struggle. This wasn’t the time or the place for a brawl.
He came to say his piece and he had, therefore the next time Carlos decided to act up and Angelo
reacted, no one could say they weren’t warned.
“Estoy bien.” Carlos wheezed and held up a hand. The gun muzzle pressed to Angelo’s temple
disappeared. “My nephew was simply acting out.” Sizing Angelo up, Carlos massaged his throat.
“Weren’t you, Angelo?”
“I’ve said what I came to say.” Pushing off from the wall, Angelo stood chest to chest with Carlos.
“You want me, come get me. But you should know, I don’t play any game I can’t win.”
Carlos’ lips twisted. “Gentlemen, escort my nephew outside, por favor.”
Pivoting, Angelo walked out of the place ahead of the men prodding him in the back with their guns.
Stepping outside, the sunlight blinded him briefly and he blinked at the brightness before flashing the
scowling Hugo a wink.
“Adiós, pissant.” He didn’t break his stride, walking confidently away and crossing the street with a
farewell wave. Inside the SUV, he drew in a deep breath and started the vehicle, driving away as
sweat poured down his face and dampened his clothes.
Two blocks over, he pulled to the side of the road and took his cell from his jacket pocket. He
activated the voice recorder, playing back the entire conversation he had with his uncle.
Buttons blurred as he dialed Gabe, memories and pain battling to be let out. He swallowed and
swallowed, his harsh breathing the only sound in the enclosed space.
“Hey, what’s up?”
He opened his mouth at Gabe’s greeting, but nothing came out. His throat locked. His eyes burned.
The knot in his chest drew tighter and tighter.
“Angelo? Babe?”
Such worry in Gabe’s voice. Worry for him. Angelo curled his fist and fought to breathe, fought to
control the demons raring to drag him under.
“Angelo?” Gabe’s voice rose higher. “Answer me, babe. Are you okay?”
“I—sí.” He cleared his throat and managed a croak. “I’m here.”
“Christ! You’re there, but are you okay?”
Such naked emotion poured from Gabe over the phone, wrapping around Angelo and warming his
insides. The knot loosened enough for him to breathe. “Yes, I’m okay now.” Something tickled his left
cheek and he brushed at it with a finger that came away wet.
Gabe sighed heavily. “You scared me. Don’t scare me like that.”
“Lo siento.” Angelo stared dispassionately at his wet finger. “Lo siento.” He tipped his head back
as tears dripped off his chin and onto his thighs.
“What’s wrong?”
It was scary how Gabe knew his moods and could read him, even over the phone. Scary, but good. “I
just left my uncle’s place.” Pressing the heel of his palm to his eyes, Angelo confessed, “I wasn’t
prepared.” His voice wavered. “I wasn’t prepared for the memories.”
“Oh God. Oh God.” Gabe’s words shook. “I’m so sorry, babe. What happened?”
His lips curved into a bitter smile. “He is exactly like he was all those years ago, a monster, and he
zeroed in on that scared seventeen-year-old boy like a shark scenting blood in the water.”
Gabe swore. “Did you break in front of him? Did you show him any weakness?”
“No, but I barely managed to hold it together.”
“But you did and that’s good. Never let them see you sweat.”
Angelo smiled. “Sí.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the car, two blocks away. I’m supposed to head over to the hospital to get my tests in a little
while.” Then he had to check on the delivery of guns, make sure all was on schedule. He’d have to go
in person to Jersey to get them. The buyers were already lined up.
“Take deep breaths,” Gabe said softly. “Get yourself together and your head back in the game. Don’t
let your uncle get the better of you. You’re no longer that kid. Got me?”
Angelo chuckled. “I got you.”
“Good. He can’t touch you unless you allow him. Do you?”
He bit back a smile. “I don’t.”
“Then fuck the crazy bastard and come home to me.” Gabe was vehement and passionate. The perfect
motivational speaker.
“I will. Thank you, cop.”
“It’s why I’m here.” He heard the smile in Gabe’s voice.
“Gracias for the pep talk,” Angelo said. “And for listening.” It amazed him how natural talking to
Gabe was, how the sound of his lover’s voice calmed him down quicker than anything or anyone else
ever could.
“Anytime. See you later.”
“Later.”
* * * * *
Gabe stepped inside his gate and stared at the woman seated on his stoop, smiling at him with
guarded eyes.
“Trish. What are you doing here?” He climbed the stairs, grocery bags in both hands, and bent,
brushing his lips over her smooth cheek.
“Hi, Gabe.” She stood, lithe body covered in dark slacks and close-fitting coat unfolding gracefully.
Her brown eyes were hesitant as she spoke. “I came for that box I left in the basement.”
“Oh.” He’d forgotten about the box of romance novels she’d left aside and promised to return for. He
put down one of the shopping bags and fumbled in his pocket for his keys, unlocked the door and
motioned her inside.
She granted him a small smile and picked up the bag he’d put down. He followed her into the house,
kicking the door shut and walking into the kitchen. They placed the bags on the kitchen table after
Kane and Angelo’s escapade that morning.
They stood on opposite sides of the table and eyed each other. God, he felt extremely uncomfortable
and it wasn’t right. This was someone he’d spent three years living and sleeping with, someone he
thought he’d be with forever.
“So…”
“How have you been?” he asked softly.
Her eyes, always so expressive, widened slightly. “I’m— I’ve been busy with work and school.”
He nodded and motioned for her to sit down. They both did and he folded his hands on the table.
“How are your courses, harder?” Trish was a legal assistant and finishing up law classes at a
community college at night. He’d been there with her when she started, helping her study, quizzing
her.
Nostalgia hit him full-on.
“Classes are harder, but they’re almost over. Work’s hectic, but I like the pace, as you know.” She
pursed her lips.
He did know. Trish operated at full throttle, all the time. He’d always loved that about her.
“What about you?” she asked. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Healing nicely.” He rotated it slowly. “Next week I get checked out and if I pass I’m back to work.”
“You’ll pass.” Her gaze clung to his briefly, soft and familiar, before she broke eye contact and
turned her attention to his grocery bags. “Finally doing the grocery shopping, I see. What do you have
in there?”
“Uh.” Gabe jumped up from the table and grabbed the bags. He brought them over to the counter near
the sink, giving her his back as he put the food away. “It’s nothing fancy, just the essentials. Gotta fill
the cupboards else I’d starve.” He forced a laugh.
“Just the essentials, huh?”
He jumped at the vibration of her voice at his ear. Gabe spun around, unprepared for the devastation
in Trish’s eyes.
“Trish—”
The smile she attempted wobbled. “Spaghetti. The dish you cooked for me on our first date.” Her
eyes grew abnormally bright. “I fell in love with you that night.”
The same dish he made every time he wanted to woo her or apologize for something. The same dish
he’d be making for Angelo tonight.
“You’ve found somebody else.”
“Trish—” He held out a hand and she backed away, shaking her head. “We’re broken up, Trish.”
Why the hell did he feel like apologizing? “We’ve been over for a while.” Long before she walked
out.
“No.” Tears streaked her caramel-colored cheeks. “You made that decision without consulting me,
you checked out of our relationship without giving us a chance to work.”
What the hell was this, the Twilight Zone? Capturing her wrists, he led her over to the table. She sat
down and he pulled a chair next to her and did the same. “We shouldn’t have to work so hard to keep
our relationship, Trish. It stopped working and it needed to end. You were the strong one, walking
out.” Grasping her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “I no longer wanted to be in our relationship,
but I was a coward, I didn’t want to walk away either.”
Her jaw tightened. “Were you cheating on me, is that why you didn’t want us anymore?” She kept her
voice steady, but he saw by her eyes she dreaded the answer.
“No.” He shook his head. “I never considered that. I was one hundred percent faithful to you at all
times.” They should have had this conversation the day she left, but he’d been three sheets to the wind
and eager to escape the hassle of arguing. She’d spoken and he’d grunted nonsyllabic replies.
“And now?” Trish lifted her chin. “You have somebody else?”
Gabe sighed. “It’s been over a month, Trish. You walked out, took everything you owned but the one
box in the basement.”
“I’ve been living in my parents’ basement, waiting for you to call. Waiting for you to show up,
waiting for you to fight.” Her eyes flashed. “Was it so easy to flush three years down the drain and
move on? Did it mean nothing?” Her shoulders shook and her face crumpled.
“God, Trish.” He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. “I don’t regret our time together,
but I chose to learn and move on.”
She sobbed harder and he patted her back awkwardly.
“I’m so sorry, Trish.” He kissed her hair. “Don’t cry, please.”
“Is she—” Trish lifted her head and regarded him with wet eyes. “Does she treat you right?”
Fuck. “I’m—uh—” She. Of course Trish wouldn’t suspect he’d be with a man. Why would she?
“Do you love her?”
“I’m happy,” he conceded. “Let’s leave it at that.”
She searched his gaze. “Is it that bitch from your unit who always looked at me funny when I came
by?”
“What?” Gabe frowned. “Phyllis? No, hell no!”
“Good.” She bit her lip.
“I’m sorry, Trish. I really am.” He couldn’t give her anything other than his apology. “Sorry we didn’t
work out, that you put your happiness on hold for me.”
“Me too.” Her expression softened as she nodded. “Me too.”
“Come here.” He held out his arms and she slid into his lap, winding her arms around his shoulders.
Her breath heated the side of his neck and he slid his palms up and down her back, pressing his lips
to her hair.
A throat cleared and he jerked his head up to meet Angelo’s shuttered expression.
Shit.
Trish pulled away from him and sat back in her chair as Angelo’s eyes sized them up.
“You left the front door open,” Angelo said. “I brought wine.” He held up a paper bag with the wine
bottle peeking out the top.
“Ah…Trish, this is Angelo. Angelo, Trish, my ex.” He held Angelo’s gaze, tried to gauge his lover’s
thoughts, but Angelo had everything locked up tight. “Um, I’ll go get that box.” Trish got to her feet
and wiped her eyes.
“Oh you don’t have to.” Gabe dragged his attention from Angelo. “I can get it.” She looked up at him
through her lashes. “Is it in the same place?”
He nodded.
“Then I’ll find it.” She hurried toward the basement stairs and Gabe waited until she disappeared
before he turned back to Angelo.
His lover watched him coolly.
“What?” Gabe grabbed his arm. “What are you thinking?”
“Why is she here?” The question was pure ice, one hundred percent Angelo Pagan.
Gabe managed—barely—not to roll his eyes. “She left a box of stuff in the basement, she came back
for it.”
An eyebrow shot up. “Why was she in your arms?”
“I don’t know, Angelo. Why do you think?” Fucking ridiculous questions, all. Apparently Angelo
didn’t think so because he glowered and brushed past Gabe, opened the back door and stepped
outside.
The door slammed shut behind him.
What the hell was happening here? Footsteps on the basement stairs sounded before Trish appeared, a
medium-sized cardboard box in hand.
“Where’s your friend?” She looked around.
Gabe shrugged. “He needed air.”
Setting the box down on the table, she pulled on her coat and eyed Gabe.
“You love him.”
He coughed, dread fucking with his breathing. “What? What makes you say—”
“In the three years I’ve been with you, not once did you look at me the way you just looked at him.”
She actually smiled, genuinely. “I’m actually kind of relieved you didn’t leave me for new pussy. He
was mad that I was in your lap, right?”
“Umm…” How exactly did one respond to that query?
“I think it’s sweet.” She kissed his cheek.
“I’m really sorry.”
She picked up the box and headed for the front door. “I’d save it for him if I were you.”
He held the door open and she flashed a smile. He waited as she got into her car and drove off. What
the hell just happened?
Chapter Nine
He found no signs of Angelo when he cracked open the back door and peered outside. Gabe
shrugged and went about making the sauce for his pasta. It was Angelo’s loss if he decided to leave
without a word. Gabe still needed to process the whole Trish situation.
She’d been waiting for him to come back to her. He’d wasted no significant thought on her after
she left, caught up in the Angelo whirlwind, but she’d been waiting on him.
How fucked was that?
Three years with the woman and Angelo walked in and wiped all their memories away. He’d loved
Trish, loved her, built a home with her and he felt less than scum that he allowed this thing with
Angelo to take over every aspect of his life.
Adding diced tomatoes to the pot simmering on the stove, Gabe shook his head. Trish deserved
someone way better than him. Way better than what he’d given her over the years.
Had he really loved her if their life together could be so easily erased?
He dropped the pasta into the boiling water as the back door banged open. He stiffened but didn’t turn
around, keeping his attention on the pots, stirring the sauce his grandma taught him to make.
Strong arms circled his waist and Angelo laid his head on Gabe’s shoulder.
Releasing a pent-up breath, Gabe asked, “Finished pouting?”
“I don’t pout.” Angelo paused. “I also didn’t like coming in to find your ex in your lap, crying on your
shoulder.”
Gabe stirred the pasta, lowered the heat under his sauce, and turned in Angelo’s arms. “She’s been
waiting on me to change my mind and go back to her.”
Shock flashed in Angelo’s eyes. “What? Didn’t she leave you?”
“Yeah, but apparently it was some kind of test. Make me realize what I was losing or something like
that.” He rubbed his jaw with a shake of his head. “I was completely blindsided by that one.”
Angelo narrowed his eyes and stepped back. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Gabe moved forward.
Angelo stepped back again.
“What do you think it means and why do I feel like I’m chasing you here?”
“Do you want to go back to her, now you know she’s available?” Angelo broke eye contact, his
words flat and unemotional. “Do you want her back?”
Gabe cocked his head. “Ready to get rid of me, I see.” The vulnerability Angelo fought so hard to
hide was quite evident to Gabe, outlined clearly in his posture and the tic in his jaw. “Look at me.”
Angelo took his sweet time turning back to Gabe and when he did, Gabe moved into his space, sliding
a hand under his white t-shirt and onto the heated plane of his stomach.
The tight muscles contracted.
“I haven’t spent any substantive time thinking about Trish since you and I started this. I loved her, I
spent three years with her, so why is it I feel like my life began when you and I did?”
He watched as the ice in Angelo’s gaze melted away, inch by golden inch.
“Trish spent all that time waiting for me, thinking of me, and I spent it thinking of you, needing you.
Wanting you.”
Angelo shuddered under his hand. Stroking the pad of a finger over the ridges on his stomach, Gabe
continued. “What does it say about me that I can erase the life Trish and I had together?” He pleaded
with Angelo for answers. “Did I really love her?”
“Of course you did.” Angelo cupped his face, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “You loved her, I
know you did.”
Gabe squeezed his eyes shut. “I’d like to think so, but it feels like nothing, no one else existed before
you came along. That can be a good thing.” He opened his eyes and met Angelo’s stare. “But it can be
bad too.”
Angelo’s hand on his face tightened. “Lo siento. I’m sorry.”
“‘No, don’t apologize. Don’t.” He caught both of Angelo’s hands and tugged him closer until their
chests touched. “I don’t need apologies,” Gabe whispered. “Kiss me instead.”
He tilted his chin and Angelo kissed him softly. Gabe clutched at him, parting his lips, touching his
tongue to Angelo’s. His lover deepened the kiss, taking his mouth hungrily. Gabe matched his fervor,
tasting his lover’s addicting flavor before pulling away with a groan.
“Gonna burn dinner.”
Angelo licked his lips and Gabe almost launched himself at him. Instead he swiped his thumb over the
other man’s bottom lip and turned away.
“Open the wine,” he instructed as he tasted the sauce. “Glasses over here.” He pointed to the
cupboard with the wineglasses. Turning off the stove under the sauce, he pulled out plates and cutlery.
Angelo popped the cork on the red wine, watching as Gabe heaped their plates with food.
“Do you want to eat here or in the living room?” Gabe licked sauce off his hands then washed it.
“The Knicks are playing Miami tonight, so living room.”
Angelo grabbed the wine and glasses while Gabe got their plates and trudged to the living room. He
placed their plates on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen for the grated Parmesan cheese.
They sat on the couch, backs on either ends, legs over each other as Angelo turned the game on. They
fell into a comfortable silence, slurping their pasta, sipping wine and watching the game.
By halftime the food was gone, three quarters of the wine had been drunk and they were playing
footsies with socked feet. Angelo dragged his toes over Gabe’s ribs, tickling him, and Gabe tried
reciprocating, but Angelo held his ankles together and refused to let go.
Gabe arched with laughter so hard his sides and cheeks hurt. “Damn you, play fair.”
“You should know by now that I don’t.” Angelo chuckled. He pulled a sock off Gabe’s foot and
scraped his nail down the underside.
“Fuck!” Gabe kicked out at him. “Stop. Stop.”
Angelo laughed and brushed a kiss to Gabe’s sole. “You, amado, are way too easy.” He dropped
Gabe’s foot and crawled over him, lying atop Gabe.
“You’re easy too.” Gabe inhaled Angelo’s musk of man and the barest hint of Curve, the scent his
lover favored. Sliding his fingers through Angelo’s thick hair, Gabe kissed his nose. “It’s great to see
you laugh, relaxed.”
“I feel way better than I did earlier today.” Tracing a finger down Gabe’s nose, Angelo smiled.
“You’ve turned out to be the cure for all my ails.”
Heat bloomed in Gabe’s chest. “Rx Gabe. I like it.”
Angelo grinned. “I knew you would.” Leaning over the couch, he picked up the wine and held up the
bottle. “There’s a little bit left, wanna finish it?” He took a mouthful.
“May as well.” Gabe took the bottle from him and took a sip. They passed the bottle back and forth,
trading wine-flavored kisses. When the bottle finally dried up, Angelo placed it back on the floor and
licked Gabe’s throat.
“Tell me about you and Kane,” Angelo said. “How close are you?”
Gabe laid his head back on the arm of the couch with a smile. “We’ve always been really close. It’s
just us two since our parents died when I was fifteen and he was twenty-one.”
“I’m sorry.” Angelo rubbed his palm over Gabe’s chest in a circular pattern.
“Thanks, they were great parents. A drunk driver killed them on their routine date night. Kane took
care of me with the help of our maternal grandmother.” The memories from back then, all the pain,
were a dull ache he could tolerate now.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Connecticut.” Gabe smiled. “Ordinary family. My mother was a professor though she didn’t have to
work. Her family is old money. My dad was a lawyer.” “Sounds like an awesome family.” Angelo’s
words rumbled over the muted TV.
“Yeah, we were fortunate, but never spoiled. Our parents wanted us to know the money our family
had wasn’t ours. Kane and I had to earn our allowances, but when they died everything went to us.”
“Wait.” Angelo rose on his elbow. “You’re like, rich?”
Gabe laughed. “I have some money. Our parents made sure Kane and I would be comfortable for life
and when my grandmother died, she also left me a place in the Poconos. A cabin.” If the tricked-out
two-story structure with every available amenity known to man could be called a cabin.
“Sweet.”
“Yeah, Kane and I only went there twice. He’s become a bit of a recluse since his life partner passed
away.”
“What happened?”
Gabe cleared his throat. “A gunman held Bailey’s entire building hostage. He worked as a legal aid
lawyer. When the dust settled, two were dead, three wounded.” That time was still raw for him.
“Kane was out of town, chasing a bail jumper.” He swallowed over the burn in his throat. “I had to
call him, tell him over the phone.” Looking into Angelo’s eyes, Gabe said, “That was the single most
difficult thing I’d ever done, telling my brother that the man he loved, the man I considered my
brother, was dead.”
Angelo’s arms tightened around him. “I’m so sorry.”
Gabe nodded. “We got the guy, killed him, but ever since Kane has been focused solely on his work.
He barely talks about Bailey anymore.”
“He loved him,” Angelo said quietly. “That can’t be easy to get over.”
“I know it’s not, but he has to continue to live. It’s like he’s given up on having a life outside of work
and I know Bailey would’ve hated that.”
Angelo shrugged. “He needs time. Give him time.”
Gabe gathered Angelo close, kissing his lover’s forehead and eyelids. “I’ll try.”
Angelo winked and dipped his head, sinking his teeth into Gabe’s right pec through his sweater.
“Hmm.” Gabe dug his heels into the couch and arched.
Angelo grabbed the hem of his sweater and lifted, pulling it over Gabe’s head and dropping it on the
floor. He swept his gaze down Gabe’s body with an appreciative smile.
“You look good, amado.” Settling between Gabe’s knees, he flicked his tongue over a nipple.
“Oh yeah.” Gabe sank his fingers in Angelo’s hair, tugging as his lover scraped his teeth over each
nipple then suckled. “Shit, that feels good.”
Angelo hummed, dragging his tongue down Gabe’s stomach and abs as his fingers worked Gabe’s
zipper. Pressing his erection against Angelo, Gabe spread his legs and allowed his lover to unbutton
his jeans.
The zipper made a distinct hiss as Angelo pulled it down and palmed Gabe.
“Aah.” Gabe bucked into the warmth of Angelo’s rough fingers, head spinning with an overload of
pleasure. And wine. Angelo’s breath singed his crown before his cock was surrounded by hot and
wet suction.
“Fuck yeah. Suck me.”
Angelo did just that, taking him deep, swallowing him to the root with a dip of his head.
Gabe threw his head back with a groan, hips lifting, thrusting into Angelo’s mouth. Slurping sounds
filled the room as Angelo bobbed, tugging Gabe’s jeans with one hand, the other stroking his length.
Breath whistled out of Gabe’s parted lips and he lifted his hips off the couch, clenching his ass as
Angelo pulled his jeans down to mid-thigh. Angelo flattened his tongue down the underside of Gabe’s
cock, tracing the ridge there with the stiffened tip.
“Ungh.” Gabe twisted his fingers in Angelo’s hair and pulled, rolling his hips, sending his cock
deeper down his lover’s throat. Saliva slid down his cock, dripping into his pubes. The scent of sex
and arousal filled his nose and melted on his tongue.
Angelo shifted lower, tonguing his balls, fingers dancing over the sensitive area between balls and
ass. Gabe stiffened up and forced himself to remain calm. He wasn’t ready for actual penetration yet,
but Angelo knew that and his lover wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want.
He loved Angelo’s mouth on him and his fingers foraging deep inside, but Gabe still wasn’t ready for
the full monty.
Angelo’s tongue lapped at him, his lover making those sexy sounds usually reserved for when Gabe
was balls-deep inside him. Moving lower still, Angelo buried his face between Gabe’s cheeks,
licking, stiffened tongue probing.
Gabe tried widening his thighs, but the jeans bunched at his knees stalled any movement. Mouth on
him, tongue dipping into his entrance, Angelo helped by grabbing, pulling until the offending article of
clothing moved lower.
Working a finger into Gabe, Angelo shifted away, finally pulling the jeans off with one hand. With his
legs free, Gabe threw one over the back of the couch, the other planted on the floor as another finger
joined the first inside him.
“Fuck, Angel.” He grabbed the couch cushions and clenched around the fingers scissoring inside him.
“More.”
Angelo sucked Gabe’s cock into his mouth again, tongue sliding over and into the slit as he pushed
three fingers in, twisting, knuckles scraping that delicious knot.
“God.”
Angelo thrust in and out, hard, sharp, and Gabe lifted his hips, looking down his body at Angelo’s
bent head as he rode those fingers.
“Fuck me,” Gabe urged him. “Fuck me harder, Angel. Hard.”
Angelo jerked his head up, pulled his fingers away and pulled apart Gabe’s cheeks roughly. Eyes on
Gabe’s, Angelo kissed him at his entrance, wet and hot.
Decadent.
He shuddered at the look of pure pleasure in his lover’s gaze. “So fucking hot. Jesus. Love watching
you.”
Angelo’s eyelids fluttered. Two fingers fitted back into Gabe’s loosened hole easily and he rode
them, gaze on Angelo as he pounded in. Just as Gabe got into the groove, his skin pulling tight, Angelo
withdrew his fingers. A hungry whimper left Gabe’s throat and Angelo glanced up at him, a wicked
glint in those gorgeous eyes.
“Patience, you’ll get what you need.” He licked Gabe’s entrance then sucked on his fingers, gaze
locked on Gabe.
Gabe swallowed, waiting as his entire body ached, biting back the scream to command Angelo to get
on with it already. Do something. Make him come. He tracked Angelo’s slow movements with
narrowed eyes. His lover finally traced his hole with one finger before sliding it inside him.
One finger. Two fingers.
“Aah.” He bowed his upper half, muscles spasming around Angelo’s intrusion.
Three fingers.
More.
“Aah.”
“Fuck, cop.” Angelo’s eyes flashed aroused fire. “So beautiful watching you.”
Gabe threw his head back at the full sensation. So fucking hot. Angelo slid deeper then stopped. Gabe
clenched around him.
“Watch me,” Angelo said. “Look.”
Gabe opened his eyes as Angelo pulled almost all the way out then thrust in with a twist of his wrist.
“Oh. Oh.” Spots danced in front of his eyes. “Angel.”
“Sí, watch me fuck you.” Angelo thrust in again, body sliding off the couch until he knelt on the floor.
“So fucking hot, tan sucio.”
“Ungh.” Those words sped up Gabe’s hips. He lifted his shoulders off the arm of the couch, using his
arms for leverage as he sat up. A sharp thrust sent Angelo sliding over his prostate and he gasped.
His balls churned.
Spreading his thighs, he planted his palms flat on the couch and lifted his body off then slid down on
his lover’s digits.
“Yesss. That’s it, amado. Fuck yourself. Do it.”
Tremors traveled up and down Gabe’s spine. His ass and lungs burned, but he lifted off then lowered
himself, again and again, fucking himself as cries fell from his lips and Angelo urged him on.
“Beautiful, so good.”
He looked down at himself, at his legs spread so wide, Angelo’s fingers disappearing in and out of
his body, and felt the orgasm build.
“Angel, Angel. Fuck!” He worked his hips faster and faster, limbs melting as every movement sent
Angelo’s knuckles scraping against his prostate. So good.
Angelo wrapped his free palm around Gabe’s cock and pulled, jerking him off with rough
uncoordinated strokes.
“Sí, come for me. Give it to me.”
Angelo thrust in harder. Gabe plunged down. Those fucking fingers pegged him just right and a hoarse
cry gurgled in his throat as his cock erupted, cum flooding all over Angelo’s hand.
“Ugh. Fuck. Fuck.” His hips kept bucking and Angelo didn’t relent, one hand still plunging, the other
milking Gabe. “God. Angel.”
Angelo sat back on his haunches, hand still wrapped around Gabe, and smiled.
“Fucking hot.”
Gabe burst out laughing. “Crazy shit.” His words came out slurred.
“Yes.” Angelo released him and licked away the cum on his fingers with a moan. “We are crazy. You
taste like bitter candy and I’ve got cum stuck to my pubes.”
Gabe collapsed back on the couch laughing and Angelo got up and crawled on top of him, arms
wrapping around him, lips clinging, transferring Gabe’s cum to him.
“Hmm. Are you okay?” he asked Angelo.
“Hell yeah, I’m okay.” Angelo nuzzled his neck. “I came on myself by simply watching you. What’s
not to be okay about?”
Gabe nipped his earlobe. “Wanna go upstairs to the bed?”
Angelo grunted. “In a little while, when I can feel my legs.”
A while later, Gabe shook Angelo awake and the two staggered upstairs, clinging to each other as
they fell into the bed. Angelo was still fully dressed so Gabe had the displeasure of undressing his
lover as he lay facedown, like dead weight.
Grunting, he sat back on his haunches and pulled off Angelo’s boots and jeans, leaving him in the
white t-shirt and tight, black shorts riding extra low on his hips. Gabe allowed himself a self-
indulgent look at his lover’s back, all tatted up, and smiled.
He loved him. I love Angelo. Leaning over his man’s body, he moved the hair away from Angelo’s
face and brushed his knuckles across his brow. Angelo stirred, a small smile curving his lips.
“Buenas noches, cop.” Sleep turned his voice rusty, gravelly.
Gabe kissed his shoulder blade, pressing his lips over the Spanish phrase tattooed there, roughly
translated to “Fuck what you heard”. Settling beside Angelo, he pulled the covers up and over them
and curled into his lover’s hypnotic warmth.
He was in love with Angelo Pagan.
* * * * *
A hard cock, the tip wet and slick, nudged Angelo’s crack, pulling him from sleep. His erection
stirred as Gabe’s hot breath blasted his nape. He pushed his lower half into the hardness humping him
from behind, hand reaching back to grab Gabe’s flank.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Humor laced Gabe’s words as he flicked his tongue into the shell of
Angelo’s ear.
“Hmm.” Angelo rolled his hips slowly as Gabe slid up and down his crack, slicking it. “You did
and I’m glad.”
“Good.” Circling his waist, Gabe slid his palm over Angelo’s chest and tugged on a nipple ring. “I
want to stay like this, rubbing against each other until I come all over your ass.” He tugged sharply on
the ring.
“Aahh.” Angelo arched, fingers digging into Gabe’s flank. “You’re a sadistic son of a bitch, aren’t
you?”
Teeth sank into his shoulder. “But you like it. In fact—” Gabe released the ring and traveled lower,
cupping Angelo’s dripping dick. “I think you love it when I take you, when I take control of Angelo
Pagan.”
He sucked on Angelo’s shoulder, hard. “’Cause then you’re not the leader of Los P, you’re just my
lover.”
He bucked against Angelo, the hot, smooth length of him swelling thicker as he stroked Angelo.
“You’re just my man. Just mine.” He cupped Angelo’s balls, squeezing as Angelo grabbed a fistful of
the sheet and pushed back on the cock pulsing between his ass cheeks.
Angelo panted, head thrown back on Gabe’s shoulder as his lover sucked his shoulder until the skin
burned and stroked his cock while grinding on his ass. Simple contentment swamped him and he
wished he never had to leave, never had to go back to a world overrun with violence and death, most
of which was his own doing.
“Ah, cop.” A lazy orgasm journeyed up his spine. “What you do to me, I can’t explain it.”
“Then don’t try.” Gabe pressed his thumb into Angelo’s slit, the slick sounds of his cock sliding
reaching Angelo’s ears. “Just come for me.” He stroked Angelo once more, squeezing hard, and
Angelo came, fountaining over Gabe’s fingers.
Gabe’s breath hitched in his ear as molten heat spread over his left ass cheek and dripped into his
crack. Angelo grabbed Gabe’s hand, linking their fingers and holding on for dear life as they
continued moving, rocking on each other.
Twisting his head, Angelo searched for Gabe’s lips, capturing his lover’s pants and sighs. He kept the
kiss gentle, soft, savoring the taste of the man he loved so much.
He’d known for so long that this wouldn’t be any old affair and he was right. He loved Gabe and he
was beyond scared of what could happen to him.
To them.
“Cop.”
Gabe shuddered against him. “Yeah.”
Those three words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t put voice to them, not yet. Instead he
said, “I have to go out of town today.”
Gabe pulled away from him and rolled off the bed, taking his warmth and comfort. Face stoic, he
disappeared into the bathroom. Angelo stayed where he was on the bed, listening to water running,
staring up at the ceiling.
Waiting.
Gabe came back into the room and stalked over to his dresser where he pulled on a pair of shorts,
eyes everywhere but on Angelo.
“Cop.”
Gabe flinched. “Don’t. Just…don’t.”
“Why are you angry?”
“If I asked where exactly you were going and why, would you tell me?” Gabe stood facing him with
his arms folded across his chest, corded muscles bulging, face hard and inscrutable.
“Yes.” Angelo answered his question with a nod.
“Where are you going and why?”
Angelo sat up, grimacing at the sticky mess gluing him to the sheet. “Are you asking as my lover or as
a cop?”
Pain flashed across Gabe’s face and Angelo cursed himself.
“If you have to ask that then all this,” Gabe waved his hand between them, “was a mistake.”
Angelo jumped up from the bed and stood in front of him. “Excuse me?” He refused to allow the
frisson of fear opening his pores to deter him. “Are you calling us a mistake?”
A muscle ticked in Gabe’s jaw. “If you refuse to see me as both your lover and a cop then yes, we’re
a mistake.”
Angelo grabbed his arm, yanking him onto his chest. “Let me tell you something, cop, no way in hell
will you get rid of me. Do you understand? I know who you are, you’re the man who numbs my pain.
Who chases away the bad stuff. Who makes me want to be better.”
Gabe bit his bottom lip and glanced away.
“Fucking look at me.” Angelo grabbed his chin and forced his attention back to him. Those gray eyes
seared him, marked him. “You’re my lover, but you’re also a cop. Those two blended together a long
time ago and now you’re simply the man I can’t live without. I refuse to live without you.”
Gabe’s lips parted and Angelo kissed him, tongue plunging into the warm recesses, thrusting. The man
in his arms returned the kiss with hungry abandon as Angelo fucked his mouth.
Gabe wrenched away. “Those words don’t mean anything if you don’t back them up. I want to know
where you’re going and why.”
Angelo licked his lips, tasting Gabe, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Fine.” He sat at the
edge of the bed and looked up at his lover regarding him with heavy-lidded eyes. “I brokered a deal
with the Delatorre Cartel.”
Gabe’s eyes widened, blood draining from his face. “You-you’re doing business with the
Delatorres?”
The Delatorre cartel was notorious for trafficking in humans, guns, drugs, sex, kids. Anything illegal,
the Delatorres were on it and waist deep in it.
“I’m a businessman. They have guns and I need guns.”
“They broker women and children for sex,” Gabe yelled. “They sell people!”
“I know that, but I’m now the only supplier of their guns on the East Coast.” Gabe gaped at him and
Angelo rushed to explain. “I’ve been buying their guns for years. I’m simply widening our
relationship.”
Gabe backed away from him, shaking his head. “I don’t— I can’t…I can’t believe you.”
“There’s a bigger picture you can’t see yet and I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. It’s not my picture
to paint, just know all isn’t as it seems.”
“Don’t start that cryptic shit with me. Tell me or don’t.” Gabe turned his back on Angelo.
Shit! “Gabe, please.” He stood and put a hand on Gabe’s naked shoulder. “I can’t— fuck!” He
wrapped his arms around Gabe, who stiffened. “You want all my secrets, amado, and I find I want to
lay them all bare for you.” Brushing his lips over Gabe’s nape, he commanded, “Turn around. Look at
me.”
Gabe did so reluctantly, raising cloudy eyes to Angelo’s face.
“I’m working with someone to take down the Delatorres, someone who’s been burned by them.
Badly.”
“Wha—?” Gabe’s brow creased. “Are you fucking kidding me with this?”
“No.” Angelo’s lips twisted. “Part of the plan was to gain control of the East Coast weapons market.
I have. My trip today is to Jersey to take ownership of a shipment of guns coming in from Phoenix.”
Wary eyes searched his face. “What else does the plan consist of?”
Angelo shrugged. “I’ll learn more today. I just want you to know, this isn’t personal for me, at least
not in the way you think. My reputation makes it easy for people like the Delatorres to work with me
and my co-conspirator saw that and approached me.”
“Jesus! Do you know what you’re doing?” Gabe’s nails bit into his upper arm. “The Delatorres find
out you’ve got an agenda and you’ll disappear.”
“I’m aware of that, but remember, I’m Angelo Pagan.” Angelo winked. “Notorious leader of Los P.
Who’d think my agenda was more than buying illegal guns?”
Gabe wiped a hand over his face. “Who are you working with? ATF, ICE, FBI?”
Angelo laughed. Could his lover be that naïve? “Ah, cop. This is personal shit, no alphabet boys are
involved. My partner in crime is a civilian and just as unscrupulous as me.”
“Damn you!” Gabe punched him the shoulder.
Angelo grunted.
“If you get yourself in any kind of trouble I’ll be seriously pissed.” Fear lurked in Gabe’s eyes, stark
and desolate.
Angelo cupped his face. “As long as you’re here waiting, I’ll be okay. I’ll be fine.” He took Gabe’s
lips, kissing his lover deeply. When he released him, Gabe swiped a thumb over his bottom lip.
“When will you be back?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Your birthday.”
Angelo nodded. “I might be hard to reach so don’t freak if you call and I don’t answer.”
Gabe’s face clouded.
“I have something for you.” Picking up his jeans off the floor, Angelo searched the pockets until he
found what he sought. He held up the set of three keys on a keychain. “These are the keys for the place
in Coney Island. The code for the garage is your birthday.”
Gabe laughed. “My birthday, huh?” He took the keys from Angelo and added them to his own
keychain lying on the dresser. “Thanks, babe.”
“You can go there anytime, I don’t have to be there.” Angelo stood and looked around. “Now I need
to take a shower and leave out.” He headed to the bathroom then stopped and turned around. “By the
way, my mother has decided we’ll all have dinner day after tomorrow.”
He smiled as Gabe gulped.
“Ah, okay.”
“Careful, amado.” Angelo laughed as he turned away. “Looks like you’re about to pass out.”
He closed the door on Gabe’s “fuck off”.
* * * * *
Angelo arrived in New Jersey by midday and booked a room at a Motel 6. The shipment wasn’t
due to arrive until after dark, but he needed to scope the place out and make sure all ducks were in a
row.
Usually he’d have Pablo and at least two other men with him, but this trip he made alone. His
dealing with the Delatorres needed to be kept under tight wraps until the time came for shit to hit the
fan.
He didn’t regret telling Gabe though. His lover had a right to know, he needed to know Angelo
trusted him. For a moment, standing in the bedroom looking at the pain in Gabe’s eyes, Angelo feared
he’d lost his lover.
He never wanted to feel that hot slice of fear again.
He stripped out of his clothes and plopped down onto the bed, guns on the nightstand. No one knew of
his trip down here, only Pablo, Gabe and Faro, but he still prepared himself for any thugs who may
have heard the leader of Los P was in town and decided to take a shot at him.
Hadn’t happened yet, but there was always a first time.
With Catarina’s death, he hadn’t looked forward to his birthday, but he did now. He smiled as he
stared up at the ceiling. Gabe had him looking forward to another birthday, another day. He couldn’t
wait to see what his lover had in store for them.
He also needed to tell Gabe how he felt. His lover felt the same, he could tell by the look in Gabe’s
eyes. By the way his lover touched him, kissed him.
Love.
He never thought he’d have it, never looked for it, but the crippling emotion found him anyway. Now
he had to ensure he kept it always, he had to safeguard his and Gabe’s future.
No idea yet how they would manage when Gabe went back to work, but Angelo
was resourceful. He’d find a way to keep his love by his side and keep him safe. First he had to
deal with Carlos and the threat he posed to everyone and everything Angelo loved.
His cell beeped with a text message and he picked it up from beside him. Message from “S”.
Update.
In the Garden, Angelo typed back, picking up goodies.
Good. Let me know deets.
Will do. Angelo threw the phone down on the bed and turned over on his stomach, gripping the
pillows as he closed his eyes. He had no personal stakes in the takedown of the Delatorres. His job
was to snare the big dogs in their own nets and leave them exposed to the elements. In this case, the
elements were out for blood, for the jugular, and Angelo was glad he had front-row seats on the
sidelines.
He’d get some sleep, get some food, and hurry back to Gabe.
* * * * *
When he woke up, he was freezing and his personal phone was beeping.
“Hmph.” He rolled over in the darkness, turning on the bedside lamp and grabbing the phones next
to it.
He had a message from Pablo on his business phone.
Angelo ignored it and checked his personal for anything from his mother or Gabe. Nothing from his
mother but Gabe had texted him.
Coney Isle 2morrow. 8 p.m.
Anticipation brought a grin to his face. He couldn’t wait to find out what Gabe had planned for them.
First I gotta get up and go make my pickup.
He left the bed, getting in a quick shower before dressing and heading out. He got into the black rental
car, driving a couple blocks away to a diner where he quickly ate a burger and fries.
The shipment wasn’t due to arrive for another hour, but he drove over to the spot anyway, remaining
inside the vehicle as he eyed the vacant area. A courier would be bringing the guns in by road but the
meeting place was by the water. They used this method before and then as now, he had no idea why
Faro and the Delatorres chose to work like this.
Still, the way they hauled their shit wasn’t his problem. He was simply there to buy.
A chill crept into the car and he turned up the thermostat, adjusting his scarf around his neck. His
fingers were already gloved up, but they, too, felt the cold. He really should’ve had someone else do
this shit. What was the point in running a criminal enterprise if he couldn’t have gofers? At least he
could’ve sent Pablo.
He shook his head. This deal was way too important, had too much invested to put in anybody else’s
hands but his. He did that a lot, he realized, did his shit himself even with all the men he had on
payroll. The men were his friends, his family in most instances, but he didn’t trust them.
After the mess with Manny and Gordo, he didn’t trust any of them. That was no place to be,
surrounded by people he didn’t trust. He’d always been down there with them, joining them in the
trenches, willing to get his hands dirty. To get dirt under his nails.
There was nothing he’d ask his men to do that he wasn’t willing to do as well. But things had
definitely changed and he wasn’t asking anyone to do anything, he was doing it all himself.
Time to get out.
The loud words echoed in his head, bouncing around in his skull as his spine stiffened. He hadn’t
spoken them but he felt the heaviness of those four words on his skin.
Felt the rightness in his pores.
He tightened his gloved fingers on the steering wheel, the most intense fear mingling with relief in the
enclosed space.
I’m getting out. For his mother.
For Gabe.
For Catarina.
And for me.
Bright headlights blinded him as a vehicle turned onto the path leading to the abandoned waterfront.
Angelo collected himself, wiping his face and gulping deep breaths. His next move would come when
this deal was behind him, but the voice in his head urging him to get out of the game was loud and
insistent and he found himself wanting to listen.
Needing to.
* * * * *
He went back to his motel after the pickup. After parking in a secluded spot, he dragged the
offensively heavy bags filled with weapons into the room one by one. By the time he finished, his
shoulders ached like a mother and he was bathed in sweat.
He toed off his boots, climbed onto the bed and turned on the TV. Not quite relaxed yet, he sent
his silent partner a text.
Change of plans.
His phone beeped seconds later.
What’s changed?
My plans.
He waited, scarcely paying any attention to the reality show on TV. When the two of them made their
plans, it was all contingent on him being and remaining exactly where he was. Most of the
transactions and deals he made were all geared toward bringing down the Delatorres and if Angelo
Pagan wasn’t around as leader of Los P, the plan would go straight down the crapper.
He didn’t need permission but he wanted use of the other man’s power. It would go a long way with
the plan forming in the back of his head.
His phone beeped.
U want out?
Our pln stays d same but I want out of d game. Period.
Seconds later came the response. Tell me what u have in mind.
Chapter Ten
“Yes sir. Thank you.” Gabe hung up the phone on his captain and turned back to his brother
watching him with raised eyebrows.
“What did Kowalski want?” Kane stole fries off Gabe’s plate and grinned at his scowl.
Gabe snatched his plate away and squeezed ketchup on his burger. “I take my physical tomorrow and
he wanted to light a fire under me to get back in there and start locking up the members of Los P.”
Kane grimaced. “That can’t be good when you’re sleeping with the leader, can it?”
“Keep your voice down, would you?” Gabe looked around the near-empty diner and shrugged. “It’s
hard, but I try not to think about it.” Else he’d surely lose his fucking mind.
“How’s that working for you?” Kane leaned forward, intense gaze locked on Gabe’s face. “You
choose to bury your face in the sand, bro. He’s a criminal, a gangster for all intents and purposes, and
sooner or later that life will catch up with him. And you.”
Gabe bit into a burger he could no longer taste and affected nonchalance. “Until then we continue as
we’ve been.” Kane opened his mouth and Gabe cut him off. “I am not letting him go!”
Kane jerked back, surprise clouding his face as his eyes softened. “Gabe, tell me you didn’t— Tell
me you don’t love him.”
Gabe tore his gaze away, numb fingers releasing the food in his grasp. The burger fell onto the plate
with an audible plop. He stared down at the table. “I can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
He looked up. “I can’t say I don’t love him, that would be a lie. I can’t give him up.” The pressure in
his chest got bigger, hotter. “I can’t.”
“Gabe.” Kane’s expression matched his voice, soft and pitying. “You have to know—”
“What?” Gabe lashed out. “What do I have to know? He could end up dead or in jail? I could lose my
job and my credibility? I know all that already.” He held on to the edge of the table, trying to still his
trembling hands as his whisper turned harsh. “I also know there’s no sense in hoping, but I want a
future with him.” His voice cracked, wavered. “I’m selfish and delusional and maybe halfway to
crazy, but I want him.”
Silent, Kane picked up a tissue off the table and handed it to Gabe. He stared at it and at his brother
before he realized the burn in his eyes were tears, now running down his face.
“Fuck.” He wiped angrily at his eyes, looking around the diner. No one paid any attention to them,
thank God. “Sorry. I’m clearly losing my mind.”
“You’re in love, same difference.”
Gabe choked, lips parting as he met his brother’s twinkling eyes. Laughter bubbled up in his chest and
spilled from his lips. Kane joined in and soon they were howling with laughter. The sparse customers
in the burger joint took note of them then, stopping and staring as Gabe slumped in his booth,
shoulders shaking.
“I feel like I’m in a bubble,” he confessed softly.
Kane’s laughter died down abruptly.
“When we’re together, there’s nothing better. Nothing as intense or that feels so right. We’re in a
bubble, one that’s sure to burst when I go back to work. I’m not looking forward to it.”
Kane nodded. “I get that. What does Angelo say?”
“We haven’t talked about that.” Gabe took a sip of his water. “I think we’re both pretending if we
don’t talk about it, we’ll stay as we are always.”
“Denial.”
“Yeah.”
“Not just a river in—”
“Oh shut it!” Gabe got to his feet and dropped a few bucks on the table. “I’m out.”
“Where you off to?” Kane rose and added some money to Gabe’s pile.
“Today’s Angelo’s birthday, we have plans.”
Kane whistled. “Sounds interesting.” He slid an arm around Gabe’s shoulder as they walked out the
diner. “Care to share?”
Gabe scoffed. “Hell no.”
“Suit yourself.” Kane pulled out his keys as they walked up to his car in the parking lot. “I’ve been
wondering though, how’s the sex?”
Gabe’s jaw dropped.
“I mean, look at Angelo Pagan.” Kane unlocked his car and opened the driver side door. “The man
must be a beast in the sack.”
“Fuck off.” Gabe punched him the shoulder. “You’ll never know.”
* * * * *
“¡Feliz cumpleanos, hijo!”
“Gracias, Mami.” Angelo kissed his mother’s cheek as she hugged him close. He squeezed her small
frame, inhaling her scent of flowers and baked bread. Releasing her, he stepped back. “You cooked.”
“Of course.” She swatted his arm. “It’s my son’s birthday, you bet your ass I’m cooking.”
“Language, Mami.” He went into the kitchen, eyes widening at the amount of food and desserts piled
on tables and countertops. “Did someone die?”
His mother giggled.
Giggled.
“No, I thought your friends might be stopping by.” She waved her hands at the bounty in the kitchen.
“This is just a ‘just in case’.”
“Huh. Wouldn’t want to see what happens when you actually plan for a party.”
“Should I make you a plate?”
“Yeah.” He headed to the basement. “I’m gonna take a shower then we’ll head out.” He wanted to
visit Catarina’s grave, lay some flowers. “I have to meet Gabe later.”
The smile on his mother’s face couldn’t have been bigger if she tried at it. “And how is my son-
in-law? I can’t wait to meet him tomorrow.”
Yeah. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that near feral gleam in her eye. “He can’t wait to see you
either.” A tiny white lie since he knew Gabe was terrified. “I’ll be back soon then we can leave.”
Twenty minutes later he was back upstairs, shoveling food into his mouth. “Hmm, this is good,
Mami.” He took one more bite and set the plate down. “Okay.” He licked his lips. “Let’s go.”
They drove over to the cemetery and he took a chance, telling his mother of his stillforming plans to
quit Los P.
“Are you sure about this, hijo?” She turned wide eyes to him. “This plan of yours, it will surely get
you killed.”
“So is doing what I’m doing now.”
“This person you’re working with, can you trust him?”
He shrugged. “As much as anyone else, I guess. In this instance, I’m more useful to him alive. He
can’t get what he wants with me dead, so yeah.”
She stayed silent for a while then asked, “What does your man think?”
He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. “He doesn’t know.”
His mother spluttered. “You’re making decisions about his future without his input?”
“But that’s just it, Mami.” He forced himself to speak the words. “I’m not sure we even have a
future.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. You both started this knowing it would be difficult, why the
doubts now?”
Sometimes he liked talking with his mother. Some days he didn’t. Today he didn’t because she was
sounding half sane right about now while he sounded like a fool.
Swinging into the entrance of the cemetery, he sighed. “Difficult is one thing. This…this is something
different and I wouldn’t blame him if he walked away.” He brought the SUV to a stop in a parking
spot and turned off the engine.
His mother stopped with her hand on the door handle. “You sound like you’ve already resigned
yourself to him leaving you when you tell him.”
He raised a shoulder in defeat. “I wouldn’t blame him.”
His mother got out of the car with a shake of her head. Yes, he knew he was making decisions for
Gabe, but with the idea planted in his head he needed to put things in motion. Once everything was
under way he’d tell Gabe.
Hopefully he’d be lucky and Gabe wouldn’t hate him.
Don’t hold your breath.
At Catarina’s grave he clasped his mother’s hand tight in his and they knelt, heads bowed, at her
gravestone. His mother laid the pretty bouquet of pink and white roses Catarina loved on the marble
stone and Angelo whispered a prayer as he made the sign of the cross.
“I miss you, hermana. Every day.” His mother shook beside him. Tears clogged his throat and he
swallowed. “I’m sorry. Lo siento.” He repeated the words over and over as tears flowed down his
cheeks and his mother pulled him into her arms.
“The best way to make it up to her, to me, is to get out,” his mother whispered. “And take that man of
yours with you. Give him a choice.”
He should, Angelo knew that. He was afraid of the choice Gabe would make, either one could be bad
for them.
Pulling away from his mother, he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’m getting out, you’re
getting out. Your homework is to pick anywhere you want to live.”
Her face lit up. “I can do that.”
“Good.” His business phone went off. He checked the caller ID then answered. “What’s up, Pablo?”
“Boss, where are you?”
He had to focus to make out Pablo’s words with the amount of noise on the other end. “At the
cemetery with Mami. Why?”
“You need to get over here now!” Pablo’s frantic voice rose above the noise on his end.
“Here, where?” Angelo grabbed his mother’s hand and led her back to the SUV. “What’s happening?”
“We’re on Fifty-Third. Get over here quick.”
“What the hell is—” The dial tone buzzed in his ear.
“What’s wrong?” His mother turned worried eyes on him.
“No idea.” He helped her into the vehicle then jogged over to the driver side and got in. “I’m going to
take you home and get some of the guys to sit on the house while I go over to Fifty-Third.”
“Be careful.”
“Always, Mami. Always.”
* * * * *
By the time he brought his mother back to the house and made his way over to the hangout spot on
Fifty-Third, he’d called Pablo three times and got no answer. All kinds of crazy scenarios played out
in his head, all involving his uncle.
By the time he double parked in front of the dilapidated brownstone, he was sweating and blood
filled his mouth from clamping down on the inside of his cheek. Vehicles were parked haphazardly in
the street, even up on the curb. He counted twenty-three before he hopped out the SUV and dashed up
the front steps, hand on the butt of the gun poking his hip.
The house was in darkness, yet the door stood ajar.
Shit. He nudged it farther with a shoulder. “Yo, Pablo.” Creeping into the darkness, he pulled out
his gun, holding it at the ready. “¿Pablo, qué pasa?”
“Surprise!”
He jerked backward as shouts rang out and bright light burned his eyes. He blinked at the grinning
faces crammed into the place wearing party hats, drinks in hand.
“Happy birthday, boss.” Pablo spoke in his ear from behind. A hand snaked in front and handed
Angelo a bottle of Moet.
He stuck his gun back in his waist and grabbed the bottle.
“Feliz cumpleaños, Angel.” Piper sidled up to him, those plump tits pressed to his chest as she kissed
his cheek.
He stepped back and she winked, bright-red lips pouted perfectly. At one time they’d been wrapped
around his cock, now they disgusted him.
The crowd converged on Angelo, men offering him hugs and pats on the shoulder while the ladies
offered kisses, pressing too close, lingering a bit too long. He met Pablo’s eyes over the crowd,
shooting him a condemning gaze.
“You needed this, even if you refused to admit it.” Pablo grinned as he signaled to someone. “Trust
me, boss.”
Loud music shook the floors and everyone cheered, partnering off quickly as they danced to the latest
hit from Pitbull.
Angelo glanced at his watch with a sigh. He still had hours before he had to meet Gabe so he could
stay for bit. He’d have to have a talk with Pablo about disobeying him, but as he eyed the sheet cake
on a table in the corner, he decided he wouldn’t chew Pablo’s head off. With that settled, he popped
the top of the Moet, taking the bottle to the head.
“You want some food?” Pablo nodded over to where food was laid out buffet-style. “Your moms
made all your faves.”
That woman. “So that’s why she cooked all that food.” He shook his head. I can’t believe Mami
managed to keep that from me.
Pablo nodded. “And last minute too. I called her up last night with my plan.”
Angelo backed into a wall, away from the dancing crowd, and took another mouthful of champagne. “I
can’t believe you did all this. After I specifically told you not to.”
Pablo didn’t apologize, instead he moved in front of Angelo, blocking his view of the crowd as he
said, “You’ve been kind of…preoccupied with your uncle and shit, plus all that mess with Auggie
and Gordo. I thought you needed some downtime.”
As his second-in-command met his eyes, Angelo saw something there he really wished he hadn’t.
Something soft and almost tender, a look not at all reserved for the relationship he’d always had with
Pablo—that of friends, boss and employee.
Pablo blinked and the emotion in his eyes disappeared as if it’d never been. Angelo glanced away.
He and Pablo grew up together, he was the first to stand with Angelo when he took over Los P and
he’d proven his loyalty time and again.
Angelo loved him like a younger brother, a friend, and now he was realizing he was so busy hiding
who he was he didn’t notice Pablo doing the same.
“You’re not really mad, are you?” Cracking a crooked smile, Pablo touched Angelo’s shoulder and
he moved away.
“No, I’m not mad. I—gracias.” Angelo ignored the flash of hurt in Pablo’s eyes and spoke again.
“This was great.”
Pablo searched his gaze then jerked a nod. “De nada.”
He turned to leave and Angelo grabbed his arm.
“You’ve done a great job with the business.” He attempted a tentative smile. “I think you should be
proud. I’m proud to call you my friend. My brother.”
Pablo visibly stiffened at those last two words. Angelo held his gaze, trying to convey his message
without words. They could never be anything else, someone else held his heart. Pablo’s face
smoothed out, his body relaxed and he nodded.
“Are we okay?”
Pablo smiled. “Always.” He walked away and Angelo stared after him.
How could I not have seen it? Was he really so deep in his own shit that he didn’t realize his own
second was also hiding?
“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and made his way to the stairs. He needed to take a piss.
Slender arms wrapped around his waist.
He groaned.
“Where are you going, Angel?” Piper purred in his ear. Her hot breath blasted him as she spoke.
“Want to know what I got you for your birthday?”
“No thanks.” He pried her hands away and continued up the stairs without looking at her. Twice she’d
given him head, and ever since she’d been hot on his trail. Whatever made her think she was anything
other than a throwaway, used by the men for sex and nothing more?
He did his best not to hurt her feelings, but damn, the gold-digging bitch was playing him close. Pity
he couldn’t come right out and tell her he wasn’t interested in her pussy, or any pussy.
He made his way to one of the bathrooms on the second floor, taking a piss while he knocked back the
Moet. After he washed his hands, he walked into the nearest bedroom, kicked the door closed, and
fell backward on the bed. With the loud cheers and music coming from downstairs muted, he could
get a few minutes of rest before he went to Gabe. He’d spent the better half of the night before and the
day planning, getting his shit together, working with his partner in crime to come up with a viable
route of escape.
Everywhere he turned, no matter what he did or the route he took, people were going to get hurt.
Gabe, the men he had on his payroll, his mother.
You.
He’d be hurt too, yes, but his pain was nothing compared to what he’d have to put the people he loved
through. They didn’t deserve it, but he saw no way around it. Funny, he’d never considered cutting
and running before.
Not once.
But his mother didn’t deserve to die on the streets of Brooklyn because he refused to turn tail.
He never thought he’d find someone, anyone. Angelo Pagan didn’t deserve happiness and love, but he
had it in Gabe and his lover deserved a life where they weren’t hidden away, where their love wasn’t
a dirty secret to be used against them.
In the end he was selfish. He wanted a life with Gabe. He wanted late nights and early mornings, but
there was no guarantee. When his lover learned of his plans he might not want to stick around.
And I wouldn’t blame him.
He placed the bottle of champagne on the floor and lay back, hands behind his head as he stared up at
the ceiling. There was the Pablo incident tonight.
No way could he have mistaken that look in his second’s eyes. How fucked was that? And what even
made Pablo think he could let his guard down with Angelo?
Did I let my guard down?
Pablo had his share of fun times with the throwaways like Angelo did. But while Angelo never took it
to the sex level with any of them, he knew Pablo had. Back when he’d indulged in marijuana, a few of
the guys had had a smoke party in this same house. A whole lotta sucking and fucking had ensued
between the four men, Angelo and Pablo included, and about six throwaways. He’d only gotten a
blowjob, but Pablo went all out with two of the females.
Angelo had watched. Not once had he considered his friend to be hiding his true self. He should have,
right? After all, he was doing the same. Like should recognize like, no?
Shit was beyond complicated. Maybe Gabe could help him figure some of it out. He closed his eyes
on that thought.
* * * * *
Warm skin and soft lips woke him. Heavy arousal clouded his nose before he blinked his eyes
open. Fingers cupped his twitching cock while someone sucked away on his neck.
What the—
“Oh Angel.”
He bucked upright and flung off the naked woman writhing on him. Pulling his gun from under the
pillow, Angelo cocked it and pointed at Piper’s forehead. “What. The fuck?”
Piper crouched on the floor, terror in her wide eyes, nipples hard and pointed at him. Angelo
scrambled off the bed and stood over her.
“Do you want me to shoot you, Piper? Is that it?” Rage shook his words. “What the hell do you think
you’re doing?”
“I was giving you your birthday present. I-I thought you wanted me.”
Cristo. Angelo patted his pocket for his phone as he curled his lip. “Ever heard of a fucking birthday
card? If I wanted you I would’ve had you by now, Piper.”
Tears glistened in her eyes, her remarkably perky breasts heaved.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Angelo checked the time. 12:50 a.m.
“Fuck!” He was supposed to meet Gabe at eight. He stuffed the gun back in his waistband and
grabbed his keys. “Get dressed and from now on stay away from me, Piper. Otherwise, I will shoot
you.”
He raced out the room and down the stairs. The partying crowd had practically tripled in size. He
spun around, headed for the back door, and someone grabbed his arm
“Boss.” Pablo shouted to be heard over the noise. “You okay?”
“Yeah, gotta go.” He pulled away and ran out the back door. He circled the building, jogged over to
the SUV and started it. After he’d pulled off and gotten well under way, he realized he’d turned off
his personal phone and left it in the glove compartment.
“Mierda.”
He divided his attention between the road and the glove compartment, pulling it open and grabbing
the phone. Yep, powered off.
He turned it on, waiting until it was functional again. The beeps came in back to back to back, telling
him he had three missed calls and five missed texts, all from Gabe.
Oh, and his battery was running low.
He dialed Gabe, fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. The phone rang and rang, finally
going to voicemail.
Angelo heaved a sigh. “Cop,” he spoke when the prompt gave him the go-ahead. “I’m sorry, I
overslept and my phone was turned off. I’m headed over there now, maybe fifteen minutes out. Call
me back and let me know if you’re still there.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t remember the mad dash through the crowded streets, all he recalled was the impatient
glances at his phone where it sat on the passenger seat, willing it to ring.
Nothing.
Twenty-three minutes later he hopped out of the SUV in the underground parking spot of his Coney
Island building and raced to the door, punching in the code with frozen fingers.
He didn’t see Gabe’s car. His lover probably got fed up and left.
Angelo stepped into the elevator, chanting, “Come on. Come on,” as he pushed the lit button for PH2
and waited, feet tapping.
Fear. He named the emotion leaving icy trails down his spine. Why was he scared? He didn’t want to
disappoint Gabe. The elevator dinged and he heaved a sigh before stepping out, footfalls echoing as
he walked the few steps to the door of the apartment.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind him. The place was in darkness, the
muted TV tuned to one of the local 24/7 news channels. He flicked on the light and strode farther into
the room, stopping near the couch. His lover laid there, blanket pulled up to his naked chest, his
phone on the floor.
“Gabe.” He knelt beside the couch, a hand going to Gabe’s shoulder to wake him until he saw his
lover was awake, eyes bright. Watchful. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Gabe sat up slowly, releasing the blanket. The material fell to the floor, exposing Gabe’s smooth
chest and the waistband of one of Angelo’s pajama bottoms. Brushing a lock of hair from his eyes,
Gabe met his gaze.
Anger. There, fire-hot anger and fear.
Angelo cupped his jaw. “I’m sorry. I overslept.”
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you smell like alcohol? Been drinking in your sleep?” He
shifted away, got to his feet and headed into the kitchen.
Shit. “Uh, Pablo threw me a surprise party. I had some champagne.”
Gabe grunted. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, exposing the containers of food
and the cupcake with a single candle on top.
“Amado, por favor. Look at me.”
Gabe did, gray eyes blazing. “I was scared for you, do you realize that?” His words blasted Angelo
and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck your sorry.” Gabe advanced on him with closed fists and agony in his eyes. “I’ve been scared
shitless all day. You never bothered to let me know you were back in Brooklyn, so I’ve been glued to
the news, terrified of learning anything.”
“Gabe—”
“It’s the only way I can find out anything,” Gabe said. “Because no one knows about us. I’m not on the
list of people to call if something happens to you.” His mouth tightened into a white line. “Here I am,
worried sick about you, and you’ve been partying it up with your homies.”
“It’s not what you think.” Angelo stepped forward.
“What the fuck do I think?” Gabe shouted. “Do you care what I think when you come to me with
lipstick on your face and neck and reeking of pussy?”
Oh fuck! Angelo glanced down at himself and Gabe grabbed him by the throat, slamming him back
into the wall.
“Ahh.” He closed his eyes as pain lanced through his skull.
“Look at me!” Gabe’s voice shook.
Angelo raised his gaze, staring into his lover’s eyes clouded with pain and anger.
And fear.
“Am I sharing you with your throwaways?”
Chapter Eleven
Gabe’s entire body shook with the fear. The idea of sharing Angelo with anyone, man or woman,
tasted like ashes on his tongue. He’d spent all evening wondering and worrying, surfing the web,
watching the local news for any information. Scared out of his mind, knowing if anything happened
he’d be the absolute last to know, and here his lover was, dark-red lipstick on his neck and the collar
of his white shirt, drenched in the stench of throwaway pussy.
The pain the idea brought to his chest was debilitating. He squeezed Angelo’s throat.
“Answer me,” Gabe growled. “Am I sharing you?”
Angelo’s lips parted as he tried gulping in air. His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed.
“C-cop.”
“Was I naïve to think I could trust you, Pagan?” He grabbed Angelo’s shoulder and turned him so his
lover faced the wall. “To think I’d be the only one?”
“Fuck, you are.”
He ignored the sharp words and reached in front, gathered the material of Angelo’s shirt and pulled.
Buttons popped, material ripped.
His lover moaned.
Gabe yanked on his hair, jerking his head back. “I don’t fucking share.” He bit Angelo’s exposed
shoulder, hand working at the fastening on his jeans. “I especially don’t share you. You’re mine.”
Freeing Angelo’s cock from his jeans, Gabe fondled the hard length as he pulled the jeans down
Angelo’s hips. He left it bundled at his knees and pressed a leg between his parted thighs, widening.
Angelo arched his back, thrusting into Gabe’s hold on his wet-tipped cock.
“No one gets to have you.” He stroked Angelo roughly, squeezing his balls and the root of his cock.
“No one touches you but me.” He transferred hold of Angelo’s cock to his left hand. Spitting on his
fingers, he brought them to Angelo’s exposed hole and plunged in.
“Fuck!” Angelo head-butted the wall as his knees buckled. Gabe held him upright by fisting his hair.
“No one,” Gabe panted in his ear. “No one has permission to touch you.” He pulled his fingers free
from the heated warmth of Angelo’s ass and circled the contracting muscle before driving three back
in.
“Ugh.” Angelo slammed his palms flat on the wall in front of him, pushing back on Gabe’s fingers, his
inner muscles fighting to take him deeper.
Gabe sank his teeth into Angelo’s neck, directly over that dark-red stain, and sucked.
Grunts and groans fell from Angelo as he rocked back, sticking his ass in the air, begging for more.
Gabe yanked down his pajama bottoms and lined himself up, no condoms, just he and Angelo. Skin to
skin.
Using his saliva as a crude lube, he moistened his crown and pushed inside, watching his
mushroomed head disappear inside his lover.
Fire stole his breath. The contractions of Angelo’s ass bringing him to the edge right away. Pressing
the heel of his palm to Angelo’s nape, he forced his lover lower. Closing his eyes, swallowing
around a parched throat, he reared back and plunged in.
The scraping of Angelo’s nails on the wall blended with their grunts and Angelo’s small cries. Gabe
bit Angelo’s shoulder to stifle his own sounds. Rising on his tiptoes, he sank his fingers into Angelo’s
hips and plunged into him, unleashing all the anger and pain and fear.
And the love.
All the love he was so afraid to voice.
Angelo met him thrust for thrust, angling his hips and rocking back, matching Gabe’s ferocious
pounding. The tight heat of Angelo’s channel set his veins ablaze and sparked a bonfire in Gabe’s
balls. He wrapped Angelo’s hair around his fist and brought his head back.
“I’m gonna come inside you,” he growled. “Flood you with my cum.”
Angelo’s muscles contracted painfully.
Gabe hitched a breath. “Gonna mark you, inside and out.” He pistoned in. Again and again. “So
everybody knows you’re mine. Mine.”
A steady string of Spanish fell from Angelo’s lips, husky and sexy, pushing Gabe over the edge.
He canted his hips, hitting his lover’s prostate with each thrust.
“Sí, Gabe. Por favor. Por favor.” Angelo shuddered in his arms, ass milking Gabe.
“Shit!” The orgasm slammed through Gabe, pulling a guttural cry from his lips as he exploded,
spilling inside Angelo’s heat.
“Argh, Gabe!” Angelo jerked then trembled as he came, shooting into his own hand.
Gabe didn’t ease up the pounding, keeping the pace, hitting Angelo’s sweet spot until he couldn’t feel
his limbs and his eyes crossed. He finally stilled, deflating cock twitching inside Angelo’s
contracting ass. When his lover reached a hand behind him, to touch Gabe, he pulled out.
Stifling a groan at the loss of all that heat and softness, he stepped away. He watched his lover, legs
spread as he braced himself on the wall, jeans around his knees as Gabe’s seed ran down the inside
of his thighs.
He so wanted to drop to his knees, lick all that gooey stuff away, clean up his lover with his tongue,
but Gabe muttered, “Happy Birthday,” under his breath, pulled up his pants and climbed the stairs.
“Cop.”
Angelo’s soft voice reached him halfway up the stairs. He froze, clenching his fingers around the
banister.
“I love you.”
Gabe locked his knees and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to trap the tears, but they spilled over
anyway. He tilted his head back, counted to ten in his head, then continued up the stairs, escaping into
the bedroom without a look back at Angelo.
Without telling him those three words.
* * * * *
Sleep played peek-a-boo with him. He tossed and turned in the cool bedroom, sheets twisting
around his lower half, missing Angelo’s warmth. Missing him. He replayed the scene downstairs in
his head, his violence, and anger.
All the fear.
And those three words bouncing around in his skull. The words that almost brought him to his knees.
Words he never thought he’d hear, despite Angelo’s telling touch and that deep, soulful look in his
eyes.
He’d bared his heart and Gabe rewarded him by walking away, not even bothering to look him in the
eye.
He was angry, yes. All the hours he sat up waiting, like the patient, obedient partner while Angelo
was out there doing God knows what.
The lipstick on his shirt and neck. The stench of woman all over him. No way was Gabe going to
tolerate sharing Angelo with anyone else, but in hindsight he should have thought things through.
Angelo was in an untenable position, maybe he had to get close to the women to preserve his secret.
Gabe blinked up at the ceiling, stomach in knots. He couldn’t deal with it.
Point blank.
He couldn’t.
They needed to talk, settle things once and for all. Angelo had to know the lines Gabe would never
allow to be crossed. He held his breath and listened, trying to determine if Angelo was even in the
house or if he’d left, but he heard no sounds.
No TV.
The house was still.
After that show he pulled downstairs he wouldn’t be surprised if Angelo had left. He didn’t regret it,
but maybe things could’ve been less heated. Angelo couldn’t expect to make an appearance the way
he did and not be prepared for Gabe to lose his goddamn marbles.
Rolling over, he turned on the bedside lamp and picked up his cell, dialing Angelo. The clock read
4:03 a.m. Late, but if Angelo had indeed left the house they’d be having this conversation over the
phone.
This was too important to wait.
Angelo picked up after three rings, voice clear and strong. “Amado.”
“Where are you?”
A pause ensued, in which Gabe managed to count to five.
“Downstairs. Couch.”
Gabe blinked slowly. “You didn’t leave?” Color me surprised.
Angelo paused again. “Should I have?”
Gabe sat upright, fingers tightening around the phone as he got up and pulled on the pajama bottoms
he’d discarded earlier.
“Cop.”
He jerked his head up at Angelo’s sharp tone. “Yes.” He made his way to the door, opened it and
stared into golden eyes.
Angelo blocked him in the doorway, turning off his phone as his inscrutable gaze held Gabe
immobile.
“Should I have left?”
Gabe shrugged, struggling to find his voice. Angelo edged ever closer to him, their naked chests
brushing as Gabe’s phone dropped from his stiff fingers onto the carpet.
“I-I thought you’d leave.” He licked his lips. “After—”
“After you asserted your dominance.” Flames leapt in Angelo’s eyes. “After you staked your claim.”
His throaty growl made Gabe shiver. He stayed rooted to his spot as Angelo bumped their foreheads
together.
“I have a knot in the back of my head,” Angelo said softly. “My neck and ass hurt, so my question is,
when do I get to stake my claim?”
Gabe’s pulse tripped. Backed into the doorframe, Angelo had him trapped, corded arms caging him in
as Angelo rubbed his nose and lips over Gabe’s lips and throat. Each touch made Gabe tremble.
“I told you I loved you and you walked away,” Angelo whispered at the corner of his mouth. “You
walked away without a backward glance.” Rubbing his stubbled jaw over Gabe’s cheek, he asked,
“What should I take from that? That you don’t care? That you don’t love me too?”
Gabe gripped Angelo’s forearms, only slightly embarrassed at the whimpers escaping him. Only
slightly.
“Angel.” He couldn’t sound more breathless if he tried. “I-I—”
Angelo released him abruptly and stepped back. “Take off your pants.” His eyes stayed on Gabe as he
quickly pulled down the pajama bottoms and kicked them aside.
The look in Angelo’s eyes had him breathless, speechless. So intense and hot, full of all that emotion
Gabe would’ve never thought him capable of. All focused on him, all for him.
Angelo’s gaze traveled down Gabe’s body, the lazy sweep a rough caress, the shining appreciation
making Gabe feel more desirable than ever before. Angelo’s gaze came back to his eyes as he hooked
his thumb in the waistband of his sweats and pulled them down. Gabe’s mouth watered, his throat
worked at the sight of Angelo, hard and ready, his swollen crown wet and glistening.
His ass clenched. Needy, empty, begging to be filled. A groan punctuated the air. His.
“Come to me.”
Before Angelo finished speaking Gabe was in his arms, rubbing against him, hot skin on hot skin,
hungry sounds falling from his lips. Angelo lifted him and he wound his legs around Angelo’s waist,
fingers sifting through all that silky thickness of his hair.
Turning them so Gabe’s back was against the door, Angelo spoke. “No one had me before you, no
one’s had me since you, and no one will have me after you.”
Gabe squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clenching as his heavy cock pressed into Angelo’s hard stomach.
“Open your eyes.” Angelo kissed his chin. “You need to understand something, Gabe.”
Gabe swallowed and opened his eyes, breath catching at the intensity in Angelo’s stare.
“Angel.”
“I love you.” The words were a curse, harsh and punishing. “I can’t change it and I don’t want to.
You’re it for me.” Angelo’s body shook between Gabe’s legs. “I gave you my heart in that fucking
interrogation room, cop, yet you’ve been holding yours hostage from me.”
He pulled his head back, eyes over-bright, lips red and swollen. “I want those words. I deserve those
words.” His voice wobbled and broke. “I demand those words. I need them.”
A tear fell from Gabe’s left eye, making a slow trek down his face. He clutched Angelo’s face in his
hands, bringing him closer, taking his lips, fighting the emotions spilling through him.
“I love you too.” Gabe tightened his legs around him. “So much. So much.”
Angelo sank his fingers in Gabe’s hair, holding him as they kissed. Slow. Deep. As if tasting each
other for the first time. Angelo carried them over to the bed, laying Gabe down and crawling between
his legs.
Gabe opened for him without hesitation or reservation, fingers twisting in the sheets as Angelo kissed
a wet trail down his body, stopping at his cock where he kissed and licked, fondling and squeezing
until Gabe cried out, stomach muscles contracting, back arching.
Angelo stroked him as he brought his mouth lower, tongue circling Gabe’s entrance, spit-saturated
fingers thrusting in and out. Gabe filled the room with his groans, begging, urging Angelo on until his
lover dipped his tongue inside.
Fucking.
Probing.
“Oh God.” Gabe writhed on that foraging tongue, thighs tightening around Angelo’s head. “Please,
Angelo. Gonna come.” Flinging a hand out, he closed his fingers around the tube of lube on the
nightstand. “Please.” He tapped Angelo on the shoulder with the lube.
Flattening his tongue down the underside of Gabe’s cock, Angelo thrust his fingers into him once
more then withdrew, coming up on his knees between Gabe’s restless thighs.
“Gabe.”
He peered at Angelo through heavy eyelids, nodding his head at the loud question in his lover’s eyes.
“Stake your claim.”
Angelo kept his gaze on Gabe’s face while he lubed up and positioned himself. Gabe took a deep
breath and released it as Angelo pushed in. In. In. The pain stole his breath, locked his joints and
made his eyes tear up. But he held Angelo’s stare and his lover froze, chest heaving, and waited.
Blinking the moisture from his eyes, Gabe wiggled.
“Gabe.” Such strain and discipline in Angelo’s voice.
“Move.” Gabe dug his heels into the mattress, held on to the sheets and wiggled as Angelo sank
deeper.
“Oh God.” The words burst from Angelo, both a prayer and a cry.
As Angelo sank deeper, dragging along Gabe’s passage, the pain morphed to sweet pleasure.
“Ah yeah. Feels good.” He experimented with a few tentative thrusts. Angelo cried out, rearing back
and thrusting in, knocking on his prostate. Fire lanced through him.
“God. God.” Gabe was rocking back on him now, lifting his legs and wrapping them around Angelo’s
waist.
Angelo kissed his calf as he plunged in and out, hitting Gabe’s spot with each snap of his hips.
“Angel.” Gabe’s fingers tore at the sheets. “Make me. Make me come.”
“Amado.” Angelo shuddered above him. “Te amo. Tan bueno.” He began moving in circular
motions, fingers gripping Gabe’s ass painfully. “You’re mine. Mine.”
“Yes.” Breath hissed from between Gabe’s teeth, sweat or was it tears, flooded his eyes, burning
him. “Give me more.”
Angelo’s balls slapped against the back of his thighs. He arched higher, opening himself wider as his
lover slid in and out. Every in and out dragged along his walls, making him spasm and contract.
“Fucking good.”
“Sí.” Angelo lowered himself on his elbows, the rings in his nipples a temporary shock of cold on
Gabe’s heated chest. Angelo licked his cheek and nose before taking his mouth, tongue thrusting in,
fucking Gabe’s mouth as he moved inside him.
Hot and carnal and all kinds of delicious.
“Love you, cop,” Angelo murmured into his mouth. “Come for me, come around my cock.” Bending
Gabe’s legs back until his knees almost touched his chest, Angelo plunged in.
“Ah fuck!” The spiral of heat at the base of Gabe’s spine exploded throughout his body. His heart
pounded in his ears as he shot thick, milky ropes all over his chest and stomach.
His ass clenched around Angelo who threw his head back and yelled.
“Christ!”
Intense heat flooded his insides, wrenching another spurt from him. He thrashed under Angelo,
clawing at his ass as his lover pounded away at him. His lover’s thrusts tapered out from sharp and
bruising to slow and soft and Angelo collapsed on his chest.
“Mierda.”
“Huh.” Gabe groaned into Angelo’s neck. “Yeah.” They clutched at each other, heated bodies sticking
together with sweat and cum, heartbeats syncing.
“It’s official.” Angelo spoke when their breaths quieted down from pants. “We’ve staked our
claims.”
Gabe chuckled, tongue flicking out to taste the wet salt of Angelo’s skin.
“You’ll never share me,” Angelo whispered. “And I’ll never share you. I’m a jealous, greedy
bastard.”
Gabe moved away from him, looking into his eyes. “What was that with the lipstick and the rest?”
Angelo grimaced. “I fell asleep upstairs at the house on Fifty-Third, that’s where Pablo had the
surprise party. I woke up with a naked Piper on top of me.”
Disgust dripped from his words.
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?’
“What the fuck do you think I did? I pulled my gun on her.”
Gabe’s mouth fell open.
“Then I checked the time, saw I was late to get to you and hightailed it here.”
“You’ve had dealings with this Piper before, right?” Gabe remembered Angelo mentioning that at one
time. He stroked the strands of Angelo’s hair, brushing the pillows.
“Yeah.” Angelo looked away. “I’m not proud of it, but she gave me blowjobs twice. One before we
met and once after.”
Gabe wrinkled his brow. “When, after?”
“After the first time we met. I was so riled up, had major wood and no relief.” He didn’t sound proud
of himself at all.
“So you used her.” Gabe grasped Angelo’s chin and turned him so their eyes met.
“I did.” Angelo shrugged. “She had a warm mouth and I needed to get you out of my head.”
Gabe’s mouth twisted. “How’d that work for you?”
“Not good.” Angelo barked a laugh. “She got on her knees and I immediately deflated. She managed
to coax me back up, but I had to close my eyes and recall you, your face and your eyes to finish.”
“Huh.” Should he be flattered?
“After that I stayed away from her.”
“But you were supposed to meet her again,” Gabe pointed out. “That night at the warehouse.”
“Oh yeah.” Angelo snorted. “I’d never been more excited to pass up a blowjob before.”
Gabe regarded him silently.
“What?”
“I won’t tolerate you being that close with anyone,” he said. “I’m just as selfish and greedy.”
Angelo grinned and kissed his forehead. “Done.”
“Stay there.” Gabe trekked to the bathroom where he wiped himself off then hurried downstairs to the
kitchen. He took the cupcake from the fridge, lit the candle with a match and cupped his palm around
the flame as he returned to the bedroom.
“Happy birthday.”
It was so worth it to watch that big, silly smile spread over Angelo’s face.
“Wow.” Angelo sat up, flipping his hair over his shoulder. “Gracias, amado.”
Gabe crawled into his lap, settling his ass over Angelo’s semi as he handed him the cupcake. “Red
velvet. Make a wish.”
Angelo held his gaze and blew out the candle. “You’re amazing.” He dipped a finger into the cream
cheese frosting and held it to Gabe’s lips. “Lick.”
Gabe did as ordered, moaning at the decadent taste and the hot look in his lover’s eyes. “Gonna
share?”
As Angelo took a bite of the cake, Gabe leaned over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling
out the present he bought Angelo.
He held up his offering covered in red-and-blue wrapping paper. “This is yours.”
“What?” Angelo put the cupcake down, busy fingers tearing though the wrapping on his gift.
Gabe picked up the cake and snuck a bite, eyes closing. That thing tasted amazing.
“Gabe.”
He looked over at Angelo, at the bewilderment on his lover’s face.
“A sketch pad?” Angelo held it up. “Why?”
“I know you studied design and architecture in college.” He shrugged. “I figured it’s been a while
since you created or designed anything, maybe you’d want to try it sometime.”
Angelo’s throat worked rapidly. He blinked a few times, voice hoarse when he said, “I would like to
do that again. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Te amo.” Angelo yanked him close, kissing him softy and sweet then hot and demanding.
“Love you too.” Gabe wound his arms around Angelo’s neck, hips rolling, cupcake and sketch pad
forgotten.
* * * * *
A warm kiss on the back of his neck woke Gabe. He moaned, eyes still closed as Angelo slid into
him, rocking gently, the pleasure exquisitely sweet and tame. Not bites and loud noises, just their
entwined fingers resting on Gabe’s hip, Angelo’s muted pants wet in his ear, and the heat of him, hard
and insistent, sliding in and out of Gabe.
Something he could get used to. Something he thought he could have every morning for a lifetime
without complaint.
A hitch in Angelo’s breath and the quickening of his heartbeat against Gabe’s back gave his fast-
approaching climax away. Gabe clenched around him, quivering as Angelo’s blunt cock head scraped
that spot inside him.
Angelo moved their joined hands from Gabe’s hip to between his legs, cupping his balls, squeezing,
and Gabe cried out, jerking, spilling into their hands as Angelo flooded him with sticky heat.
They remained locked on each other while their temperatures lowered and heart rates slowed. Only
then did Gabe turn his head, catching Angelo’s mouth in a soft kiss.
“Hmm, morning.”
“Buenos dias.”
“Love the wake-up sex, very hot.” Gabe nipped Angelo’s chin, shuddering as Angelo slid out of
him. “Hmm, fuck.”
Chuckling, Angelo kissed his shoulder and then moved away.
Gabe rolled onto his back, eyes at half mast as Angelo disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing
moments later with a rag he used to clean up Gabe with tender swipes.
“What time is it?” Judging from the bright spill of sunlight coming in through the windows, they’d
slept half the day away.
“Almost lunchtime,” Angelo yelled over the running water in the bathroom. “Are you hungry?”
Gabe’s stomach answered with a loud growl. Laughing as Angelo came back into the room, he
nodded. “It appears I am.”
“Breakfast in bed?” Angelo climbed back on the bed, moving aside the sketch pad Gabe gave him last
night.
“Uh, yeah, but isn’t it called brunch by now?” Gabe picked up the sketch pad, eyebrow rising at the
rough sketch of him sleeping. “This is nice.” He flipped the page and stared at the floor plan of some
kind of structure. “What’s this?”
“A house. The idea just popped into my head so I had to get it down.” Angelo nabbed the sketch,
hiding it in the drawer of the nightstand. “About the brunch, or whatever the correct name is, what do
you want to eat?”
“Other than the food from last night, I don’t think there’s anything else to eat in the fridge.” Gabe sat
up and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes.
“I could go out.” Angelo framed the words in the form of a question and Gabe shook his head.
“No, you can’t.”
“Well, there’s waffles in the freezer. I could make that.”
“Aww.” Gabe tweaked his nose. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“Well, I can’t, but how hard can it be to thaw out waffles and sprinkle syrup on them?”
Gabe chuckled. “Not hard. Not hard at all.”
“Plus there’s coffee.” He stared at Gabe with hopeful eyes.
“Well, if there’s coffee…”
Angelo rolled his eyes. ”You’re damn hard to please, cop.” He got off the bed and pulled on his
jeans. “I’ll make you waffles and I’ll bet you it’ll be the best you ever had.”
Was that a threat?
Gabe laughed, sticking out his tongue at Angelo’s fearsome frown. “Promises. Promises.”
Angelo threw a t-shirt at him and disappeared out the door. Moments later, the clangs of pots and
pans reached Gabe’s ear and he muffled his laughter in Angelo’s tshirt.
Happiness.
The warm glow unfurling in his chest. He fervently wished he could bottle that feeling, keep it locked
up tight. But he couldn’t, so they had to take it a step and a day at a time. Never taking each other for
granted.
They still hadn’t discussed how they’d work once he went back to his job.
He got off the bed, pulling on the pajama bottoms from last night. After he brushed his teeth and
splashed some water on his face, he made his way downstairs.
Angelo’s angry voice reached him before he was halfway down the stairs.
“There’s a reason I pay you the amount of money I do, Phelps. Tell me what the fuck is in that
warrant.”
Gabe’s stomach dipped. Phelps? His partner, Phelps, was on Angelo’s payroll? Inching closer to the
kitchen, he strained to hear more as Angelo lowered his voice.
“Then find the fuck out,” Angelo growled into the phone. “Sneak in or do whatever you have to. You
don’t want to be on my bad side.”
God, I have been naïve. Gabe berated himself. Here the man he loved stood, threatening a cop, the
cop he had on the inside. You’re a fucking idiot.
He stepped into the kitchen, clearing his throat. Angelo spun around from the sink, phone in hand.
“Call me back in an hour.” Angelo ended the call.
“What’s up?” Gabe asked.
Angelo’s mouth twisted, trying for a smile, but Gabe saw through it. Fake.
“There’s a warrant out for my arrest.” Angelo kept his tone matter-of-fact, but his eyes were wary.
Watchful.
Gabe pursed his lips. “What’s the charge?” He stood back against the wall, arms folded on his chest.
Angelo turned away, fiddling with God knew what in the sink. “The body of one of my men was found
a few hours ago.”
Huh. “Did you kill him?” Of course he did. But Gabe had to ask, didn’t he?
“He got Auggie hooked on drugs and sent him to Carlos. To his death.” Angelo lifted a shoulder in a
careless shrug. “His sentence was just.”
Funny how Gabe could hear his heart tearing inside his chest, how he could ache to sink to his knees,
curl into a ball and cry, yet remain standing through it all. A sound escaped his lips, remarkably like
that of a wounded animal.
Angelo turned and raced toward him, a hand outstretched. Blood-soaked hands he’d allowed to touch
and caress him.
Hold him.
He backed up, but there was nowhere to go. Disgust and anger roiled in his gut, at Angelo. At himself.
He was a cop, his job was to protect. To put people like Angelo away yet here he stood, sleeping
with him, laughing with him while he killed as easily as he kissed.
“Gabe.”
He jerked his head up, met the concern in Angelo’s gaze and he broke. His knees gave out and he
collapsed.
“Shit, Gabe!”
Angelo fell with him, wrapping those arms around his shoulder. Gabe pushed him away.
“Get away from me,” he snarled. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Angelo froze, gaze questioning, as if he couldn’t possibly fathom why Gabe would be crushed and
angry.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this anymore.” Gabe shook his head, forcing out the words stuck in his windpipe. “I’m
supposed to be taking you to jail for this shit, not having fun. Not fucking you.”
Angelo’s expression shuttered. “You knew the deal.” Tone flat, words painfully soft, he held Gabe’s
gaze.
“I knew who you were, but I also thought I had an idea of who you could be,” Gabe whispered. “I
never sought to change you, not once, but I thought maybe, just maybe you’d see there were things out
there worth more than the life you lead. I was wrong.”
“Gabe.” The blank expression remained, but Gabe’s name was filled with gutwrenching torment.
Even as his throat and eyes burned, Gabe wanted to reach over and hug Angelo. Pull him into his
arms. He clenched his fists at the thought.
“I ignored everything,” Gabe said. “My beliefs, my job, in favor of being with you and what do I get?
You’re still killing people and coming back to me, touching me with those blood-soaked hands. I
can’t bury my head in the sand anymore. It’s done.”
“Don’t do this.” Angelo grabbed his wrist when Gabe moved to rise. “Gabe, por favor. I love you.”
The mask fell away and fear shone bright in those golden eyes.
“And I love you, but I can’t stick around while you kill and do what else you do.” Gabe shook his
head. “I hate myself right now. I’ve been blinded by you, by this thing between us that doesn’t rely on
logic or principles. I can’t do that anymore.” His voice shook. A teardrop fell, splashing onto the
wrist Angelo held so tight.
The tremors in his body grew bigger and bigger and soon he was shaking like a small branch under
gale-force winds.
“Gabe.” Angelo rose on his knees, wrapping his arms around Gabe’s waist, trembling as he tilted his
face up. His eyes were red-rimmed and wet. “Don’t say it.”
Gabe attempted a smile, brushing a hand through Angelo’s hair. “It’s over. We’re over.”
Angelo pressed his face to Gabe’s stomach, body shaking violently. Gabe noticed he didn’t try to talk
him out of his decision, so it was agreed; this was an impossible situation and they were better off
without each other.
The pain in his heart was unbearable, rendering him immobile. Breathing was a struggle, one he
didn’t know if he could win. He didn’t bother hiding the tears soaking his cheeks. Mere hours ago
they were declaring their love and now this.
“I deserve better,” he said through the tears. “Someone willing to sacrifice for me. And you deserve
someone not torn between love and loyalty.” The tears fell harder, faster.
Angelo held on to him tighter, wetting his stomach.
They stayed like that, Angelo on his knees, face to Gabe’s stomach and Gabe stroking his hair, until
Angelo’s phone rang.
Gabe pulled away. “Answer your phone, it might be Phelps again.” He walked away without looking
back.
* * * * *
After sending a heads-up to Pablo to get things in order, Angelo walked into the 72nd Precinct
with his lawyer. Everyone stared, some even jeered, but he paid them no mind.
He felt dead inside.
Gabe had walked out of the loft earlier with a simple goodbye and though every instinct in Angelo
had demanded he stop him with whatever means necessary, he watched his lover walk away and out
of his life.
Gabe was right. Angelo had made no sacrifices while Gabe bent over backward, and he’d touched
the man he loved with his blood-soaked hands. He’d known there would be a time when Gabe would
tire of the status quo, he just figured by then he could share his plans of getting out. Give Gabe some
hope.
But those plans were far from being solidified and even then, there was no guarantee he’d live
through it. So he had to let Gabe go.
Aside from his father´s and sister’s deaths, this had to be the most painful thing he’d ever done.
He sat in the same interrogation room he’d met Gabe in a lifetime ago, a finger tapping at his chin as
he ignored his lawyer. His face would be displayed all over the evening news, and splashed on the
front pages of the morning papers, for his mother and Gabe to see.
Once again he’d be breaking their hearts. His mother knew his plans, but Gabe didn’t.
“Do you have a pen?” he asked his lawyer.
Peter Heppner—of Stanislaus, Reid and Heppner, one of the largest law firms in the country—
nodded and pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket.
Angelo took it. “Paper?”
Peter pushed a yellow notepad over to him and he quickly scribbled a note before tearing out the page
and folding it. He held it out to Peter.
“For my mother’s eyes only. You’re to deliver it yourself.”
“Yes sir.” Peter tucked the note inside his jacket as the door opened.
The assistant district attorney and a detective with familiar features entered and sat opposite Angelo
and Peter.
“Mr. Pagan, are you aware we found the body of one of your lieutenants?” ADA
Krazinksy glanced down at the folder in front of him. “A Mr. Gordon Ruiz, aka Gordo.” “I
heard.” Angelo shrugged.
“Did you kill him?” The detective scowled at Angelo. Red hair, barely noticeable
freckles…Fitz-something. FitzRoy? Fitzsimons. Yeah, that’s it.
“Was he murdered?” Angelo asked.
“Strangled with some kind of garrote. Throat slit. Bullet to the skull after the deed
was done.” With salt-and-pepper hair, striking green eyes and a neatly trimmed moustache, ADA
Krazinksy was really a looker for a man of a certain age. The small wrinkles around his eyes and
mouth said he laughed a lot. “Is this your handiwork?”
“Don’t answer that,” Peter spoke up. “What exactly are you trying to charge my client with,
Krazinksy?”
“Murder.” Krazinksy held Angelo’s gaze. “We’re tossing your mother’s house and the place on Fifty-
Third. We’re also searching your many modes of transportation. If we find a gun matching the bullet
in Gordo’s head, I’m taking you down.”
“I kinda like being on top,” Angelo snickered. “Besides, why would I kill my own people?”
The detective made a rude noise. “We found the same kind of prescription drugs in Gordo as in your
other dead soldier, August something or other. Maybe he got August to overdose and you killed him in
punishment.”
“Huh. First you people think I’ve begun dealing drugs on my own streets and now what, you think I
killed Gordo because he gave Auggie drugs?”
“If you’re charging my client with something, I suggest you do so,” Peter said to Krazinksy, “or we’re
leaving and once again you and your office look like idiots.”
“I can hold him for twenty-four hours and I will, while we search his property.” Krazinksy got up and
walked to the door. “Throw him in lockup.”
“Hey.” Peter shot to his feet. “I’m filing a lawsuit against you and the NYPD for overzealous
prosecution of an innocent.”
Angelo cracked a smile at that one. Innocent. Such a dirty word.
“Peter, I’ll be fine.” He got up and offered his wrist to Detective Fitzsimons. “Make sure you see my
mother first thing. And be back here tomorrow to get me sprung.”
Peter nodded.
“Confident, aren’t you?” Fitzsimons clamped warm handcuffs around Angelo’s wrists, extra tight.
He ignored the sting of pain and winked. “Is there any other way to be?”
* * * * *
Gabe didn’t leave the house once he got in from Coney Island. Ignoring the package of sex toys
FedEx brought, he puttered around the house, cleaning, vacuuming and doing laundry while trying not
to watch the coverage of Angelo’s arrest on local TV.
He’d stood, a pile of laundry in hand as Angelo and his lawyer arrived at the precinct. His lover
was focused, ignoring the crowd of shouting spectators and television cameras. Lenses zoomed in on
him and Gabe recognized the hickey and whisker burns he’d left on Angelo’s neck last night.
His marks. Angelo wore them openly.
He forced himself away from the TV, trying to clear his mind of all things Angelo Pagan. It wasn’t a
good idea to dwell on the things he couldn’t change so he focused on what he could, like his bedding
and the dishes in the sink.
By the time he’d finished his self-imposed chores, his arms hurt from all the scrubbing, sweeping
and vacuuming, but the house looked awesome. He took a shower and spent some time on the phone
talking to Kane. His brother was worried about him after seeing Angelo on the news.
Gabe didn’t tell him he’d broken things off with Angelo, but he managed to reassure a skeptical
Kane he was fine and not watching any of the news channels. By the time evening rolled around, he’d
spent nearly all day on his feet and his stomach was making demonic sounds.
He’d just finished ordering a pizza when the doorbell rang.
Peering through the peephole, he managed to make out the top of a woman’s head.
He opened the door slowly.
“Can I help you?”
Barely reaching his shoulders, the woman jerked her head. Dark eyes focused on
him, her features infinitely familiar.
“Gabriel Ashby?” Spanish-tinged words sealed her identity.
Gabe nodded as breath shuddered out of him. “Yes.”
Her face broke into a huge smile as she brushed past him and entered the house. “I believe we had a
date tonight?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m Liliana Pagan, by
the way. Your mother-in-law.”
Chapter Twelve
“Uh, come on in?” Gabe locked the door behind him then faced the woman standing in his living
room. Her hair was as luxurious as her son’s, gleaming black with silver strands standing out
proudly.
She wore a black coat over red slacks, a multicolored shawl thrown around her neck.
“Don’t just stand there, darling.” She pulled off black gloves and spread her arms wide. “Give me
hugs.”
Well, he couldn’t defy her command, could he? He stepped into her arms and she held him close,
squeezing him. He inhaled flowers and the delicate fragrance of woman, totally at odds with her take-
charge demeanor.
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” she whispered. “I’ve heard great things. Great things.”
Gabe cleared his throat and stepped back. Ushering her to a seat on the couch, he sat beside her.
“How did you get here?”
“Cab, of course.” Her gaze wandered around the room. “Lovely place.”
“What about the men who guard you? Where are they?” Had she brought Angelo’s men to his
doorstep?
“Relax, Gabe.” She patted his hand. “I gave them the slip.”
“Jesus.” She’s lost her mind! “But why did you come?”
“Angelo sent me.” She said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “He didn’t want us to
be alone.”
“He didn’t want—” Gabe choked, coughed. “He told you that?” What did that even mean, he didn’t
want them to be alone? What was Angelo trying to do?
“He sent me a note from lockup,” Liliana said. “Your name and address.”
Gabe barked a laugh bordering on hysterical. “Did he also tell you I broke up with him this morning?”
“You did?” She cocked her head to the side and regarded him intently. “Why?”
“I don’t want to discuss it.” He jumped to his feet and paced. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s too
risky. He shouldn’t have sent you here.”
“He knew we’d be missing him.”
Didn’t the woman ever lose her cool? Her tone was calm and smooth.
“I guess he figured we’d do better if we had each other to talk to.”
Gabe dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to talk.”
Liliana stood and approached him on quiet feet, much like her son. “What do you want, Gabriel?”
Angelo. But of course he couldn’t admit that, so instead he said, “Quiet.”
She nodded. “We can do quiet. We can make noise. We can cry and curse Angel, but we do it
together. That’s what he intended to happen.”
“Well, he can’t control everything,” Gabe spat. “If he could he wouldn’t be locked up.”
A shadow crossed Liliana’s face. “Maybe.” She took Gabe’s arm and brought him back to the couch.
“Do you hate my son for his choices?”
God, if only he could. “I don’t hate him, Liliana.” His words were anguished. “I can’t hate him.”
“Because you love him.”
“But it’s not enough,” he pointed out. “Love is not enough. He is who he is and I can’t in good
conscience be with someone like that.”
She tightened her fingers around his wrist. “But you’ve known all along who and what he is, why the
righteous indignation now?”
He blew out a breath. “Maybe I thought he’d find a reason to change by being with me. His intensity
swept me away and I didn’t want to stop it.”
“Now you do.”
“Now I have no choice.” He shook his head. “Don’t you see? I’d already begun hating myself for
turning a blind eye. I would’ve started hating him too.”
“I see.” Liliana clasped their joined hands at her knee.
Gabe wrinkled his brow. “You’re not going to try to talk me into taking him back?”
She snorted and he smiled.
“I would if I thought it would work.” She shrugged. “You’re both big boys. You can work your
messes out yourselves. I simply wanted to say thank you.”
She had him speechless again. “Uh…um, okay. Thanks for what?”
“For making him happy, because he was. For making him smile, because he did. A lot.” Her smile
wobbled. “He’s had to hide who he is for a very long time and with you—” She sniffed. “With you he
had freedom to be himself.”
She cupped Gabe’s cheek, brushed a kiss over his forehead. “Thank you for that, Gabriel Ashby.”
He shifted closer, pulled her into his arms and rocked back and forth. “I didn’t do anything except
love him. I was selfish in that.”
“You gave him what he needed,” she mumbled in his shoulder. “Love. You. And if you never see
each other again, I’ll always be grateful.”
They held each other in silence, each in their own little world, until she pulled away.
“Did he tell you about his uncle and why he got into this business in the first place?”
“He did.”
“It’s all my fault, you understand.” Her expression faltered, her voice grew thready. “Because of my
bad decisions he’s had to go through terrible things and do terrible things. Carlos would’ve taken
over the gang when Sal died, but once Angelo found out Carlos had killed his father there was no way
he was going to let that happen.”
Gabe understood that, he really did. “He’s a loyal man.” And much more.
“He is.” Liliana’s voice got stronger, louder. “Despite everything, he has a soft heart.” Her gaze
dared Gabe to contradict her statement.
“I love him, Liliana.” He granted her a small smile. “I don’t think I could have if he wasn’t a
wonderful man.”
Her smile captivated him, wide and unfettered, brightening her eyes and crinkling their corners.
The doorbell rang and she clutched his arm, worry darkening her eyes.
“It’s okay.” He pried her fingers away and stood. “I ordered pizza.”
They sat in the living room, eating pizza, drinking a bottle of white wine Gabe found in the back of his
cupboard. In between bites he told her about his life, his brother and his job. In turn she recounted
hilarious stories from Angelo’s youth before he was kidnapped, eyes glistening as she spoke of the
antics between him and his sister.
Gabe squeezed her hand across the table, lending her his strength without words.
Their time together passed quickly, Liliana’s presence comfortable and comforting. And Gabe thought
that somehow, in some way, Angelo knew it would be this way. He found himself smiling as he
helped Liliana back into her coat, the cab waiting at the curb to take her back to Brooklyn.
“You’ll be okay?” he asked.
She wrapped her scarf around her neck and nodded. “Yes, I will be.”
He stared at her for a second then pulled out his cell phone. “Give me a number to reach you.” The
thought of her being all by herself while Angelo sat in lockup for God knows how long didn’t sit
well.
She recited her number and he programmed it into his phone then gave her his and she did the same.
When she finished she hugged him close.
“Tell me,” she said softly. “If he walked away from the gang today or tomorrow, would you take him
back?”
Would he? Could he? Gabe sighed into her hair. “I really don’t know, Liliana.” That was as honest as
he could be at the moment.
“All right.”
The car honked.
Liliana walked out the door and stood on the steps, looking over her shoulder at Gabe. “Adiós,
Gabriel. I hope we get to see each other again.” With a wave, she walked out the door and ducked
into the cab.
Gabe watched her go with a surprising ache of loss in his chest. Being with Liliana made him feel as
if he was close to Angelo, something he didn’t think he’d ever feel again.
Closing the door, he dialed his captain’s personal number and waited anxiously as the phone rang and
rang.
Kowalski finally answered, sounding as if he’d been running. “Yeah.”
“Hey, Cap.”
“Ashby. What’s up, son?”
“I heard you guys brought Pagan into custody.” Eyes squeezed shut, he asked, “You got anything
concrete to send him away?”
Kowalski grunted. “You know that bastard is goddamn Teflon. Krazinksy has him for twenty-four
hours and we’ve been searching, but so far, nothing. Looks like he’ll be walking in the morning if we
come up empty.”
Gabe heard the unspoken word. Again.
“That’s shitty.”
Another grunt from Kowalski.
“Keep me posted, please.” He tried not to sound too eager.
“You need to hurry up and get back in there, maybe fresh eyes can help us out.”
“Will do, Cap.” He ended the call and stared at the phone in his hand. He’d taken his final physical to
get back to work, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. Wasn’t looking forward to going back to work
with men he couldn’t afford to trust, the same men who were supposed to watch his back.
Phelps was on Angelo’s payroll. Who else was bought off by not only Angelo but the many criminals
they were supposed to put away?
I can’t go back.
He didn’t want to go back.
His life had changed radically since that day he met Angelo Pagan, some good and some not so much.
There was no going back to the life he led before.
He’d been compromised in the worst way by falling in love with the enemy. His fellow cops
wouldn’t accept him in their midst if they knew, they’d regard him the same way he was regarding
Phelps.
He was the biggest hypocrite of them all.
All the time he’d been away from the job, he hadn’t felt that itch to get back to it. There was no rush,
no ache to get back to work. Hell, he barely thought about work.
That spoke clearly and louder than anything else.
The passion he once had was gone, as was the drive. Despite the shaking in his limbs, the realization
didn’t startle him the way it probably should have.
He fumbled for his phone and dialed Kane.
* * * * *
“Is everything settled?” Angelo asked Peter. They sat in the back of a town car on their way to the
house on Fifty-Third. He had to finally sit Pablo down and tell him his plans.
Peter nodded. “All the things you’ve requested have been done. The plan has been put in motion.”
Angelo smiled. “And Mr. S?”
“Is with your mother, finalizing her plans.”
“Cool.” He sat back and relaxed. Their timetable had been pushed up way quicker than he expected.
Peter and Mr. S did the heavy lifting, working through the night to make sure all was secure and good
to go.
Now the next move was his.
The car pulled up in front of the brownstone on Fifty-Third and Peter turned to him.
“Are you sure about this?”
“I am.” Peter had been with him from the start, defending him and acting as the gobetween for him and
his mysterious partner, Mr. S. Peter was good people and it didn’t hurt that he made a shitload of
money off Angelo’s poor choices.
“All right.” Peter nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Angelo held out his hand. “Thanks, Pete.” He grasped his lawyer’s hand in a firm handshake then got
out of the vehicle and jogged up the steps. Pablo waited inside and Angelo had no idea how he’d
react to the news.
He closed the door behind him. His gaze went directly to Pablo on the couch, a laptop on his knees. A
few other guys sat around, talking loudly.
Angelo cleared his throat and they fell silent, all attention swinging to him.
“Boss.” Pablo jumped off the couch, tangible relief in his gaze. “You good?”
The other men joined in, asking if Angelo was okay. He held up a hand.
“I need everyone to leave, everyone but Pablo.”
The men filed out without question, stopping only to pat him on the back, or give him a one-armed
hug. They were proud of him, he saw that in their expressions, proud that once again their boss had
bobbed and weaved his way out of prison.
He wasn’t proud of the bomb he was about to drop or the mess he’d be leaving behind. He loved
these men, but he had to walk away.
I have to choose a different path.
The door closed behind the last of the men and Angelo pulled up a chair, waving Pablo to take a
seat.
“What’s going on, boss?” Lines popped out on Pablo’s forehead.
“I’m going to talk for a bit.” Angelo’s voiced turned hoarse. He swallowed. “I’m going to talk and I
want you to listen and don’t interrupt.”
Confusion darkened Pablo’s gaze, but he nodded. “Okay.”
Angelo spoke, keeping his tone even as he spelled out his plans. He watched the many emotions filter
over Pablo’s face, first shock and disbelief, then pain and anger. His friend practically vibrated with
the anger, ashen knuckles fisted at his sides.
Pablo managed to hold his tongue while Angelo finished his little goodbye speech.
“You can do the same thing,” Angelo told him. “Or you can control the reins. What do you want to
do?”
“Yo, this is fucked.” Pablo swiped a hand over his eyes. “You gonna just walk away from all this,
from everything we built?”
“It’s time, mi hermano.” Angelo kept his tone calm. “It’s time for something new. I can’t deal with all
the death and destruction, neither can my mother. Yes,” he continued when Pablo opened his mouth, “I
knew all this going in and I chose it, but now I’m choosing something different. I want something
different. Don’t you?”
A muscle ticked under Pablo’s left eye. “This is about him, isn’t it?”
Angelo tried not to react even as his pulse sped up. “Him who?”
“The cop in Queens,” Pablo spat. “The one you shot. The one you’re fucking.”
Angelo sat back in his chair, draping an arm around the back as he tried for calm and composure.
“What do you know?” And how did Pablo know?
“You’ve been acting weird, more withdrawn since you shot him,” Pablo said. “I thought maybe you
were worried about it since we’d never crossed that line before.”
“I was.”
“But that wasn’t it. I followed you, thought maybe you’d do something crazy.” Pinning Angelo with an
accusing gaze, Pablo’s mouth twisted. “I didn’t expect to see you go to him, to watch you kiss him
through the window.”
Pablo jumped to his feet. Angelo gripped the butt of his gun and braced himself, but Pablo turned his
back on him.
“You got sloppy, careless, caught up in him to the point where there was nothing else. I saw that in
your demeanor. All this time.” Pablo barked a harsh laugh. “All this time you’ve been fucking a cop.”
He sounded as if he was coming unhinged, rapidly.
“Pablo.” Angelo got up as well, cautiously approaching his friend. “Lo siento.”
“You know, I thought maybe you were using him.” Pablo swung around.
Angelo froze mid-step.
“I thought maybe you were trying to get him compromised in some way so that he couldn’t or
wouldn’t press any charges against you.” He shook his head. “But I knew better. The instant you
kissed him, I knew better.”
Angelo kept quiet and Pablo ranted. There wasn’t anything to say to make all this better anyway.
“That cop has your nose wide open.”
“Are you angry I was fucking a cop or is it because I was with him?”
Pablo’s eyes flashed. “Is he the reason you’re walking away from all this?”
Angelo shrugged. “He’s part of the reason, not all of it.”
“And you trust him?”
“I love him.”
Pablo’s body jerked as if he’d been dealt a physical blow and Angelo went to him, pulling him into
his arms.
“I’m sorry.” He had nothing else to say, nothing else to comfort Pablo.
Pablo leaned into him for a second then pushed away. “I want control of Los P.” His voice was
strong, but he didn’t meet Angelo’s gaze.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.” Pablo nodded vigorously.
“All right. Done.”
His friend walked away, headed to the door, and Angelo spoke.
“Pablo, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you about me.”
Pablo stilled in the doorway.
Angelo walked up to him. “You’ve been at my side from the start, you know the shit I’ve been through
’cause you went through most of it with me. I should have confided my secrets to you, maybe I
could’ve helped you with yours.”
“Help me with my what?” Pablo’s hand on the doorknob trembled.
Angelo sighed. “I’ll only tell you don’t make the mistake I did. If you want someone, if you want to be
open with somebody, this isn’t the business for it. Think long and hard. If you’re in this position, what
happens when you fall in love? Will you keep him hidden away and satisfy yourself with stolen
moments? Neither of you will be happy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Pablo walked out the door and out into the street, getting
into his car without looking back.
Angelo refused to believe Pablo would follow the same road he’d seen Angelo take. He was hurt and
angry now, but Angelo had faith once he calmed down, Pablo would rethink his next move.
Right now, though, Angelo had pressing business to take care of. Loose ends needed to be tied up. He
needed to see his mother one final time. Then put in a call to ADA Krazinksy.
* * * * *
“We found two unlicensed guns on your property, Mr. Pagan.” Krazinksy had the self-satisfied
smirk going full blast. “You’re going to prison. The only question, of course, is for how long.”
Angelo battled the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course.”
“Do you mean to talk me into dropping the charges?” One of Krazinksy’s salt-andpepper eyebrows
shot up. “Is this why you asked to speak with me the minute your ass got arrested again this morning?”
Really, give the man a medal. He was quite quick on the uptake. As if Angelo would have any
unlicensed guns just lying round, waiting for the incompetent NYPD to find. They’d burst into his
mother’s house way before dawn that morning, waving warrants and demanding he stay out of their
way.
He did…and waited for them to discover what he wanted them to discover. “Tell me, Krazinksy. Did
your boys happen to find the murder weapon that killed
Gordo?” He tapped a finger to his temple.
Krazinksy’s eyes narrowed. “Not yet, but we will.”
“You’ll find it,” Peter spoke up. “But not where you think.” Placing his briefcase
atop the ADA’s desk, Peter opened it and removed Angelo’s phone.
The one on which he’d taped Carlo confessing to killing Catarina and Auggie. “What’s that?”
Krazinksy eyed the phone warily.
Peter played the voice recording and when it finished, Angelo spoke. “You have proof of who’s been
doing the killings in Los P territory and I’m sure
with the warrant you’ll no doubt procure to search my uncle’s place, you’ll find the weapon he used
to kill Gordo.”
Krazinksy’s face turned a rather unique shade of purple. “Are you telling me how to do my job,
Mr. Pagan?”
“I mean…” Angelo shrugged. “Someone has to get things done around here.”
“You must want something,” Krazinksy grated. “Else you would’ve dealt with your uncle personally.”
“Ah, but I’m turning over a new leaf.” Angelo smiled.
Peter leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Let’s talk deals.”
* * * * *
Decision to resign from the NYPD made, Gabe found himself breathing way easier. Kane didn’t
try to talk him out of it, in fact, his brother encouraged him to make a change—although Gabe
suspected Kane also meant that change to include his dealing with Angelo.
His brother still didn’t know he’d broken things off with Angelo.
And Gabe was still coming to grips with his visitor from the day before. Liliana Pagan’s appearance
helped him better understand how he’d fallen in love with her son. With a mother like that, despite all
the bad things, good still resided at the core of who Angelo was.
Too bad he’d buried all that way down.
Now I just have to get over him.
Exiting the shower, Gabe snorted at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror. That shit
was far easier said than done. And if he somehow managed to move on, move past
Angelo, what did he do next?
Who did he see next? Man or woman?
He didn’t think he was gay, not in the traditional sense, at any rate. He had yet to
find a man who wasn’t Angelo attractive. Women, then? He still liked looking at their bodies. Did
that make him bi?
All those damn labels. Now wasn’t the time to decide anything, not when he still felt the imprint
of Angelo’s touch on his skin. Inside him.
His cell phone beeped with a text message as he stepped into the bedroom. He picked it up from the
bed.
Message from A. Meet @ Coney Isle @ 8.
He checked the time—6:34—then caught himself.
They were over. No way would he meet Angelo ever again.
He began typing “hell no” and the phone rang in his hand.
His captain.
“What’s up, Cap?”
“We got him!”
Damn. He held the phone away from his ear with a frown. What’s with the shouting? “Who did we
get?”
“Pagan. Keep up, Ashby.”
Gabe’s legs folded under him and he sank onto the bed. “What do you mean? How?” Was that his
voice rattling?
“Word around the DA’s office says he made a deal with them this morning, but they haven’t
announced anything yet.” Kowalski grunted. “It’s not the murder charge we expected, but he’ll still be
going away. I just don’t know for how long.”
“Ah, thanks for telling me, Cap. Later.” He ended the call on Kowalski’s protests and threw the phone
across the room, shattering it.
* * * * *
Angelo let himself into the Coney Island loft a little after eight p.m. He had no expectation of
seeing Gabe there waiting since his former lover hadn’t responded to his text, but he hoped.
He hoped Gabe was there. He hoped he had the spine of steel necessary to look into Gabe’s eyes
and tell him what he’d done, and he hoped he didn’t embarrass himself by breaking down and
bawling at Gabe’s feet.
The place was in darkness. Gabe mustn’t have arrived yet, if at all. Angelo flicked the light
switch on and opened his mouth to call out, but a movement at the corner of his eye stopped him.
He turned to his left, staggering backward as Gabe’s fist connected with his temple. “What did
you do?” Gabe yelled. “What the fuck did you do?”
“What the hell?” Angelo grabbed Gabe’s arm, squeezing. “What the hell is wrong
with you?”
Gabe’s red and swollen eyes registered and Angelo released him abruptly. “Cop, what’s wrong?”
“What did you do?” Those words were raw, harsh and thick with emotion Gabe
didn’t seem able to contain. His gaze was tortured, wide eyes shining way too bright. “I don’t
understand what you’re talking about.” Angelo rubbed his temple. Damn
cop could hit.
Gabe lunged at him, cold fingers closing around Angelo’s neck as he slammed into the door.
“Fuck, cop.” He let out a shaky breath. “You gotta stop doing that.” Gabe didn’t find it funny, if
anything his lover’s gaze hardened even more. “You made a deal with the DA?” Gabe spoke through
gritted teeth, his hot breath
blasting Angelo’s face.
Shit! How did he find out? The entire thing was supposed to be kept under wraps until Angelo’s
arraignment.
“You did.” Pressed up against Angelo, Gabe shook violently. “You did, you son of a bitch. You made
a deal.” Gabe tore his hand away and spun around. A noise, similar to that of a wounded animal left
him and almost brought Angelo to his knees.
“Amado.”
“No!” Gabe swung to face him, spittle flying as he disputed Angelo’s endearment. “Am I your
beloved? Because it seems to me it’s all about you.”
“Gabe, por favor.” Angelo reached for him and Gabe jerked back. He swallowed the hurt. “I’m
sorry, por favor.”
That tangible anger never left Gabe’s gaze. “Are you going to prison?”
“Sí.”
Gabe’s Adam ’s apple bobbed. “For how long?”
“Gabe—”
“How long?” Gabe’s shout bounced off the walls. “Don’t I get to know? Don’t I get a say?” He
softened his tone. “Don’t I deserve this?”
“Sí, you do.” Angelo closed the gap between them and yanked Gabe into his arms. This time his lover
didn’t fight, he didn’t struggle. Gabe wound his arms around Angelo’s neck and held on tight. “Lo
siento.”
“It’s too late for that,” Gabe said against his neck. “Tell me how long.”
“Only two years.”
Gabe sank to the floor and Angelo went with him, patting Gabe’s back, kissing his head.
“It’s a measly two years,” Angelo said. “I can do that in my sleep, standing on my head.”
The wet spot on his neck grew.
He tilted his head up, a weak attempt to hide his own tears, but they dripped off his chin and onto
Gabe’s sweater. Tonight may well be the last time he got to hold Gabe in his arms like this. His life
wasn’t guaranteed in prison, with all the associates and friends he had in there, he had an equal
amount of enemies. Even if he survived his prison sentence, who knew if Gabe would even look at
him ever again.
“You didn’t trust me enough to tell me this.” Gabe let him go and moved off his lap. “You’ve been
planning this, haven’t you? And yet even as you slept with me and told me you loved me, not once did
you mention this.” The hurt was so evident in his voice.
“This all happened last minute and I needed to make sure everything was in place before I did
anything.” That sounded lame even to Angelo, but he wasn’t trying to make excuses, only explain why
he did what he did.
Gabe scoffed at his words. “The DA knew before me, the person you say you love.” He got to his feet
and grabbed his jacket. “Excuse me if I doubt your words.”
“Gabe, please.” Angelo jumped up and raced to his side. “Don’t leave.”
“I can’t stay.” Gabe shook his head. “I can’t look at you and not feel betrayed and angry.”
“You still love me.” Why the hell did he say that?
Gabe narrowed his eyes. “Of course I still love you. Do you think it goes away in a fucking day?”
“Then stay,” Angelo whispered. He brushed his knuckles across Gabe’s cheek, watching as his hand
trembled. “Stay with me.” He’d drop to his knees if he had to, beg and plead all night. “Be with me
tonight, I don’t have tomorrow.”
Gabe’s eyelashes fluttered. The jacket in his hand fell to the floor and Angelo grabbed the front of his
sweater, pulling him close.
“I love you, cop. I’ll never stop, no matter what happens.” He kissed Gabe, hard and fierce, pouring
his love into that kiss.
Gabe moaned into his mouth, lips parting, tongues twining. The pace went from zero to sixty and
Angelo took control, yanking on Gabe’s clothes, flinging them away until Gabe stood before him
naked, his cock hot and ready.
Gabe’s hands went to Angelo’s belt, unbuckling him and pulling his jeans and boxers down, freeing
his bobbing erection. He spit into his palm then stroked Angelo, tugging hard and insistent on his
cock.
Their harsh grunts and heavy pants filled the room.
Angelo shuffled to the stairs, jeans bunched around his ankles, and sat on the third step. Gabe
straddled him standing, and Angelo urged him higher. Gabe complied, climbing higher on the
staircase until he was crouched over Angelo’s face, wet-tipped cock nudging Angelo’s lips as his
white knuckles grasped the banister for purchase.
Laying his head back, Angelo opened his mouth and Gabe thrust in, hard.
“Hmm.” Angelo stroked himself with one hand, the other he sank into Gabe’s ass cheek.
Gabe shuddered, the pungent smell of his arousal filling Angelo’s nose. He kept his mouth open, jaw
slack as Gabe plunged in and out, plundering his mouth with sharp thrusts.
“Fuck.”
Angelo removed his hand from Gabe’s ass and brought it to his mouth, making space for it right
alongside Gabe. He got his finger all slick and brought it to Gabe’s entrance, pushing in to the last
knuckle.
“Shit!” Gabe jerked in Angelo’s mouth, pre-cum flowing from him.
Angelo pulled out his finger and screwed it back in, curving on the upstroke.
Gabe hissed in a breath. “Yeah, like that. Just like that.” He moved his hips in tight circles, cock
sliding deeper, the smooth head bumping the back of Angelo’s throat.
Angelo squeezed his eyes shut, committing each thrust, each stroke to memory. He cataloged Gabe’s
scent, his sounds, and the rough slide of his skin against Angelo’s.
He added another finger to the one inside Gabe, twisting and rotating, moaning when Gabe clamped
down on him. The tight heat brought a sweat to Angelo’s brow and he arched.
Gabe pulled away, taking his cock from Angelo’s mouth, and moved lower, hovering over Angelo’s
erection. One hand around Angelo’s neck, Gabe crouched over his lap.
Their eyes met, Gabe’s thin slits through his lowered lashes, but Angelo caught the desperate need
flashing there.
Angelo palmed his cock, lining up with Gabe’s entrance, never breaking eye contact as Gabe sank
down and down. His muscles fisted Angelo’s cock, kissing it with all things tight and soft. He
stopped breathing, eyes watering, chest aching.
Gabe’s face blurred, his features doing a macabre liquid dance.
Gabe didn’t stop sinking until his ass cheeks touched Angelo’s thighs. When they did, he stopped and
leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Angelo’s.
“Angel. Babe.” His words were wobbly, watery. Pleading. “Angel.”
Angelo snapped his eyes closed, shutting out the pain in Gabe’s gaze. He clutched Gabe to him,
fingers scraping his back, cock pulsing inside him. Gabe held him just as tight as his ass contracted
and his cock, trapped between their bodies, dripped.
“Don’t make me let you go,” Gabe begged. “Angel, please. Don’t make me let you go.”
A sob burst from Angelo, emotions too much to be denied. Tears escaped behind his closed eyelids
and Gabe’s moist tongue licked them away. He wished he could take it all back. Here, in this moment,
he wished he could take it all back, give Gabe what he asked for and make them okay.
Make their lives okay.
“No puedo,” he whispered through the tears. “Gabe, I can’t.”
Gabe’s shoulders shook. He lifted off Angelo and then slammed down.
Hard.
The excruciating pain resonated in his balls, yanking cries from them both. Angelo opened his eyes,
meeting the breathtaking glow of betrayal in Gabe’s eyes. Still, his lover didn’t slow down or retreat.
Gabe rose up again and plunged down, enveloping Angelo in his snug body.
“I hate you for this.” Gabe leaned back, circled his cock and tugged, bringing himself off. His eyes
remained on Angelo, his cheeks wet. “I hate that you did this to us.”
Angelo could relate; he too hated the decisions he’d made, the ones taking him away from Gabe for
what seemed like forever at this point. Being noble, going straight, none of it meant a thing if he didn’t
have Gabe.
He bit his lip. “Cop.”
Gabe grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him forward, taking his mouth with a sharp ferocity.
Angelo opened for him and Gabe launched an oral assault, kissing, biting, nipping. Angelo took it all
as his punishment, accepting Gabe’s desperation.
Matching it.
Gabe rocked on him, his muscles rippling on his cock and pulling his orgasm down. He planted his
feet on either side of Angelo and worked his hips.
Tearing his mouth, Gabe yanked Angelo’s head back and scraped his teeth over his throat. “I fucking
love you, so much.” His words vibrated on Angelo’s skin. “I love you. I give you my heart, and you
leave just like that.”
He clamped around Angelo then released.
“Why, Angel? Why did you do this?”
The orgasm churning in Angelo’s balls grew hotter and hotter, burning his skin and drawing his
testicles up. Angelo grabbed Gabe’s hips and urged him on.
“Gabe.”
“Yeah.” Gabe’s hand worked between them, jerking himself off and Angelo thrust up into him.
“Like that, yeah.”
“God, so hot.”
Their words blended together, Gabe rocking faster, Angelo thrusting harder.
“Nnng.” The sound tore from Gabe’s throat, his ass spasming wildly. Hot jets of cum streaked across
Angelo’s stomach as Gabe shot on him, triggering his climax.
Pulling Gabe close, he cupped his ass cheeks and thrust up, his seed flooding Gabe’s insides. His
lover shuddered, still pulling on his cock and spurting on Angelo.
When their spasms ebbed and their limbs unlocked, Gabe dipped a finger in his cream on Angelo’s
body, smeared it on Angelo’s lips, then licked it off. He did it again and again in silence until Angelo
caught his wrist and brought the finger to his mouth, sucking it off.
Gabe stared at his mouth, at his finger in Angelo’s mouth, then stood abruptly.
“Aahh.” Angelo shuddered as his limp cock slid out of Gabe’s snug hold.
“I gotta—” Gabe’s head swung this way and that. “I gotta get out of here.” He grabbed his clothes in
his arms and scooped up his keys from the coffee table.
“Gabe!” Angelo struggled to his feet only to trip over the jeans bunched around his ankles. He
collapsed against the stairs as Gabe’s bare ass disappeared through the door. “Gabe.”
Chapter Thirteen
Gabe pulled on his clothes in the elevator, teeth chattering at the cold. Or maybe the overload of
emotion. He didn’t know. All he knew was he needed out of the place, away from Angelo.
From those golden eyes begging for understanding and forgiveness. He walked out the building
and into a lazy snowfall. He pulled his hoodie up, stuffed his hands into the pockets and kept his head
down, making his way across the
street and over to the boardwalk. The wind bit into his skin, making him shiver as his breath clouded
in front of his face.
With the amusement park shut down for winter, no bright lights lit up the night and the full moon
glittered like faraway diamonds over the dark waters. He walked over to the jetty, his exposed face
already going numb, and leaned against the railings. Black waves crashed against the jagged rock
looming like unfocused shadows down below.
Gabe took in a deep, shuddering breath. An attempt to clear his mind of the definite sting of
betrayal. The cold air wasn’t helping, all it did was remind him of how hot Angelo’s skin felt next to
his.
They’d never have that again.
Angelo might try to downplay it, but they both knew he had enemies on the inside, all hungry
sharks circling, waiting to take a bite out of Angelo.
Why?
Angelo still hadn’t given him an answer.
Why now, after all this time? What changed?
“Everything changed.”
Gabe spun around. He’d spoken out loud? Angelo stood behind him, arms wrapped around his
middle, shaking. Without any thought, Gabe reached out and pulled Angelo close, rubbing his hands
down Angelo’s sides.
Felt good and familiar and necessary. Like water. Like air. Like fucking breath.
Angelo hummed low in his throat. “I thought you were leaving.”
Gabe pulled away with a shrug. “I needed to clear my head.” He turned away and leaned against the
railing, head tipped upward. Eyes closed, he felt Angelo shift closer, felt his body heat as he stood
next to Gabe.
“Head cleared yet?’
“S’gonna take more than this.” He winced at the bite in his words, but he refused to take it back.
Gloved fingers clutched his and squeezed.
“I know.”
Gabe opened his eyes and stared down at their fingers. “What’s the plan here? You do your bid then
come back to business as usual?”
“No. I handed control of Los P to Pablo. I’m getting out, amado. Permanently.”
The sad finality in those words struck Gabe and he looked at Angelo’s dark-clothed profile. His hair
spilled out from under the black wool cap pulled low and flowed over the collar of his coat.
“I love your hair,” he whispered.
Angelo jerked his chin up, gaze searching Gabe’s. “I tell you I’m getting out of the gang and you
wanna talk about my hair?”
“What should I say?” Gabe jerked his hand away from Angelo’s. “Do I wait until you decide to let me
in on your plans, feed me whatever crumbs you feel like?”
“It’s not like that at all!” Angelo grabbed Gabe’s shoulder in a vise grip, forcing him to meet his gaze.
“It’s not like that. You’ve looked the other way long enough, don’t you think?”
“It’s my choice,” Gabe said with a stubborn scowl. “My choice.”
“Not this. Not this time.”
“Really? And I’m supposed to sit back for two years and hope nothing happens to you, hope they send
you back to me in one piece?” He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.
“I thought you broke up with me? I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me?” Angelo raised
an eyebrow. “Or did my imminent prison stay make you change your mind?”
“You think this is a joke?” Gabe’s jaw dropped. “You think you can fucking laugh your way through
this? Do you think I’ll be waiting for you, twiddling my thumbs until you get out?” He spun away. “If
you get out.”
Angelo moved with him, wrapping his arms around Gabe’s waist and leaning in. “I don’t expect
anything except for you to live your life. Be happy.”
Gabe swallowed the lump in his throat. “I need you for that. I need you.”
Angelo turned him around and Gabe met his bright eyes and the sad smile.
“You don’t need me to make you happy,” Angelo said. He scraped his knuckles over Gabe’s jaw.
“You’re a good man. Despite all this, good things will always come your way.”
Around them the wind picked up and the snow fell faster, the small flakes morphing into quarter-sized
fluffs that stuck to Angelo’s hair and clothes. Gabe tilted his face, lashes fluttering as snowflakes
kissed his face and neck.
“I fell in love with you in a cold, sterile room.” He spoke to Angelo without looking at him. “And
ever since that night in my living room, after the shooting, when you broke in, I’ve been connected to
you in some way. I could call you or text and the briefest response from you would make it all okay.”
Angelo touched his throat in a small caress and Gabe paused. He opened his eyes and smiled.
“You made this okay.” Gabe gestured between them. “I fell in love with a man when I’d never even
looked at men that way. I fell in love with you when I was supposed to be putting you in jail.”
Angelo chuckled.
“I never doubted you,” Gabe said. “I never kept anything from you.”
“We knew what this was when we started.”
“Yes.” Gabe nodded. “But this relationship…it was better than we thought, wasn’t it?” They were
good together, Angelo couldn’t deny that. He couldn’t deny their intensity and the depth of their
feelings.
“It was bigger.” Angelo hugged him close. “Bigger than anything, Gabe. Anything.”
Gabe buried his face in Angelo’s neck. “And now we say goodbye? Walk away like we didn’t exist,
like our love doesn’t matter?”
“It matters. In two years I’ll be free from prison and free of Los P.” Angelo squeezed Gabe until he
couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t protest. He simply closed his eyes and held on.
“In two years I’ll be just another man,” Angelo whispered. “Free to love and be with whomever I
want.”
Gabe wanted to believe that, he really did. But he knew better than to hope, to wish.
“Take me back upstairs,” he said softly.
* * * * *
Curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in, they undressed each other in silence then crawled to
the middle of the bed, Gabe on top.
He kissed his way across Angelo’s chest, tongue tracing the tapestry of those colorful tattoos as
Angelo dragged his nails down his back and bucked against him. Angelo’s swollen crown dripped
sticky pre-cum on his stomach, but Gabe rubbed on it as he tongued the rings in his lover’s nipples.
Angelo arched, breath gasping out of his parted lips, swollen and red from Gabe’s assault. Gabe
licked his palm and circled Angelo’s cock, stroking him leisurely as he nipped his way down his
treasure trail. Reaching his goal, Angelo’s crotch, Gabe pressed his face into the short, crinkly hairs
there, pausing to inhale Angelo’s musk, that arousing mix of heat and need and sweat.
Angelo palmed the back of his head roughly, pushing into his face, and Gabe opened his mouth,
swallowing him whole.
“Ugh!” Angelo bucked in his mouth, fingers pulling at his hair.
Gabe drew back slowly, dragging his tongue over the smooth length pulsing and dripping bitter salt
on his taste buds. He smoothed his palms over Angelo’s thighs, feeling the muscles flex and tighten.
Stiffening his tongue, he wiggled the tip into Angelo’s slit, lashes descending as Angelo hissed and
tugged on his hair.
“Gabe, fuck.” Angelo thrust into him. “Turn around, let me taste you too.”
A thrill of anticipation shot down his spine, but he took his time, tongue swiping the ridged underside,
bobbing on Angelo’s cock a few more times before he got up and straddled Angelo, his back to him.
Rough fingers grabbed his hips, pulling him backward until he lay atop Angelo, his thighs spread on
either side of his head, Gabe’s face at eye level with Angelo’s rubytipped erection. He licked the
bead of liquid forming there, flattening his tongue down the underside as he stroked with one hand.
His own hard-on brushed Angelo’s chin before warm fingers circled him and directed into Angelo’s
warm and wet mouth.
“Hmm.” His ass clenched, goose bumps forming on his skin.
Angelo grabbed his ass, fingers sinking into the flesh as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Gabe’s
head spun but he reciprocated, sucking Angelo to the back of his throat, working him as he lubed up a
finger and eased it into the tiny dark entrance waiting to be filled.
Angelo gurgled around his cock, the sounds vibrating down the length of his shaft. Gabe rotated his
hips, easing off Angelo’s face and slamming back down, into that waiting mouth.
Angelo’s hold on him tightened, painfully so when Gabe tripled the fingers in his ass. They’d
conveniently ignored the bottle of lube an arm’s reach away in the nightstand and Gabe used his
saliva, the next best thing, letting it trickle from his mouth and down Angelo’s shaft, pooling under
him on the mattress.
He rose on his knees, sucking each of Angelo’s balls into his mouth, and his lover moved with him,
hips jerking as Angelo lifted off the bed. The wet heat around Gabe’s cock disappeared and he huffed
in aroused frustration.
Angelo chuckled and pulled his ass cheeks apart, rough. Gabe stilled all movement, back arched,
waiting as Angelo’s heated muscles clamped down on his fingers.
A hot breath whispered over his entrance. He sucked in a breath, pulse slowing. Something wet and
slick trailed down his crack.
Angelo’s tongue.
“God.” Gabe resumed thrusting into Angelo, dipping his tongue into the mix, flicking and licking as
Angelo circled his entrance with featherlight touches.
“Ass in the air,” Angelo growled against his skin.
Gabe obeyed without hesitation, tipping his backend higher, his face flat on the mattress. He did his
best to keep stroking Angelo, keep those fingers working inside him, but gave up the fight once
Angelo thrust his tongue into him.
All he centered on was that man having his way with him, the tip of Angelo’s tongue penetrating his
guardian muscles and thrusting in.
“Aah, shit!” Gabe humped that fucking tongue, hips rising and falling, his fingers inside Angelo long
forgotten. He jerked and Angelo clamped down around him. Gabe pushed his fingers deeper, curving
them, and Angelo’s movements faltered.
He reached behind him with his free hand, aiding Angelo by holding himself open for his lover’s
mouth. Angelo moaned and Gabe pushed back onto him, humping his tongue, panting as his body
shuddered.
“Fuck, yeah.” He twisted his fingers inside Angelo. “Make me come,” he chanted. “Take me down.”
Angelo grew ravenous, his hungry sounds growing louder as he thrust a finger into Gabe.
“Angel. God, Angel.” Gabe’s legs gave out and he collapsed onto Angelo, cum shooting out of him
and onto Angelo’s chest. The sticky mess acted as glue, holding them together. Gabe writhed and
Angelo bucked, a soft sound rumbling in his throat as he flooded Gabe’s hand.
Gabe fought for breath, heart pounding in his ears as Angelo caressed his lower back. When his heart
rate slowed, Gabe lifted off Angelo and turned around, lying with their heads together on the pillow,
staring at each other, breaths mingling.
“Te amo.” Angelo kissed his nose. “I’m as in love with you now as I was the first time we met.” A
smile curved his face, sad and genuine. “My dream, my ultimate dream, is that one day I can come
back to you. To this.”
Gabe traced Angelo’s lips with a finger. “Mine is to be with you, whenever. However.”
Angelo captured his fingers and kissed them.
Gabe stared at him, trying to read his eyes, but Angelo blinked, hiding his thoughts. Gabe shifted
closer, throwing a leg between Angelo’s, laying his head on his chest, and fell asleep counting his
heartbeats.
* * * * *
When next he opened his eyes, it was morning. Dark and gray and dreary. Angelo lay next to him,
propped up on the pillows, staring down at him.
Their eyes met and they reached for each other, kisses soft and tender, saying goodbye without words.
The tears came with the first brush of Angelo’s lips on his and Gabe allowed them to flow, straddling
Angelo.
Fingers clung together, lips following suit, skin always in contact as Gabe sank down on his lover for
what they both knew was the final time. He tried to make it last, make it good for Angelo, but he
couldn’t see through the tears in his eyes. Angelo rolled them, taking the top, taking the lead, sliding
into Gabe slow and steady. Hitting his spot, making him cry out.
Words fell from Angelo’s lips, Spanish words, flowing over Gabe like water. They sounded like
promises, those words. Like his lover was promising a life they could ill afford to look forward to.
He shook his head and wrapped a fist around Angelo’s hair, jerking his head down and kissing him,
stalling those words.
He gave himself over to the grief and the anger, pushing Angelo off him and onto the mattress, forcing
himself between his legs and pushing into him without prep and finesse. And Angelo took him in with
a wobbly grimace, eyes never leaving Gabe’s face.
Gabe wished he could hate the man whose body welcomed him in so sweetly. But he couldn’t.
Angelo’s lips moved. I love you, he mouthed. Gabe choked back a sob, an orgasm rearing up,
demanding release. He pounded into Angelo, giving him what they wanted.
What they needed.
Angelo’s mouth opened, his eyes grew unfocused, and Gabe pummeled him until Angelo’s body
bowed and his muscles spasmed around him.
Only then did he let go, releasing inside Angelo’s warmth and tightness. Marking his territory with
every spurt of his seed. He stared down at Angelo, at his chest heaving and the words wrenched from
his soul, spilling from his lips.
“I love you. Don’t make me lose you.” He fell atop Angelo, clutching him, staring into those wet,
golden eyes. “I love you, Angel. Please. Please.” There was no shame in begging, no shame in asking
for what he wanted. For what he needed to survive.
Who he needed.
Angelo held him close, caressing his back, kissing his hair, until his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Their time was up.
“I love you, cop.” Voice hoarse, Angelo whispered in his ear. “I love you.” With one last kiss on
Gabe’s mouth he rolled away and disappeared into the bathroom.
Gabe moved onto his back, biting on his fist, body shaking as Angelo cleaned up. He wanted to be
strong, suck it up, swallow the tears and present a stiff upper lip with a quick bye.
See you in two years. Maybe.
But he couldn’t. His chest felt as if someone had carved him open with a dull, rusty blade and
scooped out his heart. Breath, air, was in short supply and no matter what he tried the tears wouldn’t
stop flowing.
Angelo exited the bathroom with his hair in a ponytail, his white shirt tucked into his jeans. He sat on
the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots, each movement like it took forever, but was over far too
soon. Before long he stood over the bed, simply looking down at Gabe.
“You’re beautiful,” Gabe said, soft, reverent. He held up a hand, fingers spread and Angelo brought
his, twisting their fingers around each other. “I love you, Angelo Pagan. And I don’t regret this. I
don’t regret us.”
Angelo’s eyes flashed that familiar fire. “I love you too. Always. Always remember that.”
Gabe nodded, gaze cataloging his features. His scent. He closed his eyes as Angelo pulled from him,
his footsteps carrying him farther and farther away.
Gabe clenched his fists. “Pagan,” he called out without opening his eyes and the footsteps slowed
down. “Stay alive and come back to me. That’s a fucking order.”
* * * * *
Angelo stood in front the judge, hands cuffed behind his back, and tuned out the sounds of Peter
and Krazinksy talking. The deal was done, all they needed was for the judge to agree with the terms
and sentence him accordingly.
He smelled of Gabe, their night together. He couldn’t get the sounds and sights of Gabe begging
him not to leave out his mind. Still, he hadn’t disclosed his full plan to Gabe. There was no use in
getting his hopes up, not when Angelo wasn’t even sure things would work out.
He’d serve his time, keep his head down and do what he intended to until his time was up. Two
years wasn’t that long, not by any stretch. Not to him, but to Gabe that could mean two lifetimes.
Angelo bit his lip. Was he sentencing Gabe as well? He should’ve given him permission to see
other people, right? Two years, no way would someone like Gabe stay celibate for that long.
Fuck! The thought of someone else getting what he’d had mere hours ago did not sit well. Hell no,
he didn’t want Gabe with anyone else. Man or woman. But what the hell could he do except grin and
bear?
Shit!
A warm flush heated his nape and he stiffened. He glanced over his shoulder at the galley and his
heart lodged in his throat. Gabe crept into the room, eyes on Angelo as he slid onto a bench behind his
mother.
What the hell was he doing there? Angelo narrowed his eyes and Gabe just shrugged.
“Mr. Pagan, are you listening to me?” The judge banged away on the gavel and Angelo jerked his
attention forward.
“Uh, yes sir.”
“I’m not at all happy with this deal the people made, but unfortunately I’ll have to abide by it.” He
looked down at the papers on his desk. “I’m sentencing you to two years in state prison and you’ll
spend that time in Clinton Dannemora.”
Angelo went back to tuning him out, sneaking glances over his shoulder. His mother dabbed at her
eyes and Gabe leaned forward, his hand just over her shoulder, clenching the back of her bench.
Angelo saw how hard it was for his lover to see his mother in tears. Gabe’s eyes were also red-
rimmed, his lips swollen, Angelo’s whisker burns on his face and neck.
That sight thrilled him to no end.
“Let’s go.” A bailiff motioned to him and Angelo nodded.
He shuffled forward, heard his mother’s sniffles and vowed it would be the last
time she cried over him. He threw her a wink over his shoulder and she quieted. Gabe’s gaze slid
over him like a warm touch and he paused at the door leading him out of the courtroom and into the
unknown.
He took a chance, turned around and looked over to where his mother and Gabe sat. “Amado.”
Fuck if his voice didn’t shake.
Gabe jerked and brought a closed fist to his mouth. Angelo knew that move, knew his lover was
biting on his knuckles to stifle the cries. Gabe’s bright eyes returned his words, and Angelo clung to it
as the bailiff pushed through the door and slammed it shut.
* * * * *
The letter came two months, three weeks and five days later. Gabe came home from a night out with
his brother, Kane’s lame attempt to get his mind off things.
Hadn’t happened for all that time, Gabe didn’t see it happening any time soon. Still, he humored
his brother, trailing along as they hopped from bar to bar. Gabe tried to have a good time, tried to be
in the moment of loud noises, louder music and the smell of alcohol, but it didn’t work and Kane
began noticing after a while.
Finally Kane took him home, saying nothing on the cab ride over and simply hugging him tight at
his door.
Gabe noticed the envelope as the taxi’s taillights disappeared around the corner, on its way to Kane’s
place. He picked up the yellow envelope from its perch against his door and held it up to read the
sender’s info.
Nothing from the sender except a Colorado post office box.
Inside his house, he kicked off his shoes and sank onto the couch as he tore the envelope open.
Another envelope was inside, this one postmarked New York State Prison and addressed to the same
Colorado P.O. box.
His fingers shook, throat flashing dry as he slid his finger under the sealed envelope flap and opened
it. A slim white envelope was inside, the letter “G” scrawled along the side. His vision blurred then,
heart slamming against his ribs.
There had been no contact with Angelo since that day in court and no word from his mother either.
When Gabe tried calling the number she’d given him, he got a disconnected message.
He stared at the envelope in his hand, hesitant to open it, to make it real. The sleepless nights, the
lonely days. They’d be real. Opening that envelope would make it all real and despite the heartache
of the past few months, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear Angelo’s voice, to read his words.
Then again, what did his lover have to say? Was he all right? Keeping his head down and staying safe
like Gabe commanded?
He tore the envelope, removing the folded sheets of paper inside. Settling back on the couch, taking in
a fortifying breath, he unfolded the paper with careful fingers and began to read.
Amado,
I started this letter so many times and so many times I stopped. There are no words powerful
enough to convey how much I wish I could stare into your eyes. Or touch you, touch your cheek
and watch your eyelids flutter.
It’s your tell, did you know that?
I’m surrounded by extreme noise and extreme silence and I dream of you. I lay awake worrying for
and about you. Por favor, don’t disappear into yourself. Don’t sentence yourself to do this time
with me. It’s not your fault, it’s not your crime.
We both knew what this was, what it is, and we’re too stubborn to speak what should have been
said our last night together.
It’s finished. Done. There’s nothing to hold on to since, as you say, we’re not sure if I’ll get out.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I do get out when my two years are up, but, cop, us, we cannot
continue.
It’s not fair. It’s not right to have you sitting at home night after night waiting for me, putting your
life on hold. It’s not fair to you and as much as it fucks with me to think of you with anybody else,
I’ve been selfish enough. I’ve taken enough from you and asked way too much.
I’m not being generous, simply realistic. Maybe selfish in this action too, since once again I’m
making decisions without your say-so. Without asking what you think or want. But, amado, I know
you and I know you would be in your bed, not living.
Not smiling.
Doing time like me and with me.
This will be my only letter to you. Don’t write, por favor. Don’t. Live. Move on. No, I don’t expect
or want you to forget. I want you to be with me, always and forever, but it’s not realistic. Not now.
And it’s not something I write so easily. It’s killing me to write this, but it needs to be said.
Focus your energy on your job, doing what you love. Maybe one day, I can see you again. Touch
your face again and watch you melt.
Maybe one day.
I will not apologize for this, because once you get over the anger and hurt, once you’re past the
betrayal and cursing my name, you’ll see the truth.
You love me and I love you. So much, cop. So much, but it ends here.
Let’s end it now.
He signed a big “A” at the end, flourish and all. Gabe couldn’t recognize the sounds coming from his
throat, falling from his lips. The intense pain in his chest stole his breath and he clutched his throat,
doubling over, sliding off the couch and to the floor.
* * * * *
“Are you sure about this?” Kane leaned a hip against the car door and raised an eyebrow.
Gabe nodded. “I need space and time.” Slamming the trunk shut, he walked over to the driver’s side
and got in. “I’ll keep in touch, I promise.”
“I still think you’re running away.” Kane leaned down and met his gaze with serious eyes
overflowing with concern. “I don’t think it will help one bit.”
Gabe grimaced. “Thank you for that fine bit of insight.”
“I’m just saying, you’re packing up and leaving. Running to the Poconos won’t solve anything. That’s
geography.”
“I need a change of scenery.” Gabe started the ignition. “And a change of pace.” A place not
inundated with memories of him and Angelo. He didn’t speak the words out loud, but Kane appeared
to hear him all the same.
His brother patted his shoulder and offered a small smile. “I hope it helps.”
“You and me both, brother.” Gabe waved and drove off, headed to his secluded cabin in the Poconos.
He had no immediate plans other than getting there, no goal in mind except to forget Angelo Pagan.
Three days after that letter and his insides still felt raw and exposed. No ideas on how to get back to a
normal without Angelo, but he’d try.
He had to.
Six months into two-year sentence. Clinton Dannemora prison.
Familiar faces surrounded Angelo in the prison yard, some friendly, some not so much. He
gravitated to Ricky Ruiz, ranking member of the Latin Kings and a childhood friend. Though he hung
with Ricky and his boys, Angelo made sure everyone knew he wasn’t affiliated.
Last thing he needed was to get caught up in the same old shit. Instead, he shared laughs and
memories with Ricky, serving three life sentences for killing a judge and his entire family.
Gruesome shit, but Angelo couldn’t really throw stones. In the back of his mind he held on to the
memory of gray eyes and rough caresses, praying Gabe didn’t hate him for that fucking letter, knowing
he would. He didn’t regret the letter, only the pain it would bring. He loved Gabe too much to allow
him to wallow and waste away.
His lover was a proud man, loyal to a fault. He wouldn’t turn his back on Angelo unless pushed.
Angelo did the pushing.
A very familiar face bobbed in the crowd of players on the prison’s softball field. His uncle was one
of the new residents of Clinton Dannemora after pleading out to killing Catarina and Auggie. Carlos
hadn’t copped to killing his brother, but that didn’t matter. The courts gave him thirty-five years to
life.
That life sentence would come sooner than later.
Angelo shifted away from the other prisoners surrounding him, watching with a smile as Carlos’ eyes
grew bigger and wider. Looky, no one told Uncle Carlos his nephew was also in residence.
Ricky stopped talking and nudged Angelo. “That’s him, Angel?”
Angelo nodded. “That’s him.” He walked over to Carlos, sidling close to him as the guards watched.
“Hola, tío.”
Carlos narrowed his eyes. “You!”
Angelo barked a laugh. “Sí. Me. The one with strings, the puppet master. The reason you’re here.
Now.”
Angelo’s secret partner had pull, long reach and money to burn. And bribe. One of the smartest moves
he ever made was to agree to partner up with Mr. S.
“From here on out you’ll be looking over your shoulder,” Angelo said to Carlos. “Every time
somebody looks at you the wrong way, you’ll wonder if they’re working with me against you. Your
end is coming soon, tío.” He winked. “It’s like I told you, don’t play no game that I can’t win.”
Loud voices reached his ear and Angelo looked over his shoulder. One of Ricky’s men and one of the
Bloods were squaring off against each other, yelling as four guards separated them.
By the time both men cooled down, their respective gangs had gathered around and violence swirled
in the dusty afternoon heat.
“All right, boys.” One of the guards spoke. “Let’s break this up. Now.”
The crowd backed off, but Angelo knew the violence wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
* * * * *
The next day, the pent-up violence from the day before boiled over in the lunch room. The two
gangs railed at each other from neighboring tables as the guards called for order, fingers tightening on
their rifles.
Angelo stood off to the side as Ricky’s crew rose to their feet, rudely gesturing to the Bloods gang
a table over. Carlos and some older prisoners sat at the table in between, watching the loud exchange
as they ate.
In the blink of an eye, a ruckus broke out as Ricky lunged over Carlos’ table, knocking into Carlos
in an attempt to get to the Bloods’ table. Everyone jumped in at once, fists and food flying.
Warning shots filled the air and Angelo hit the floor, grunting when his chest made contact with
the floor.
Soon as the war started, it was over.
Guards handcuffed men and ushered them out the room. Everyone was on their feet.
Except Carlos.
Angelo got up once the guards signaled the all clear, sidling closer to the center of the fight. Running
footsteps reached his head, guards rushing past him and dropping to the floor. Angelo saw his uncle’s
feet then his body, twitching, blood pouring from the fatal cut across his throat.
He wasn’t dead yet, his rapidly fading gaze reaching up and recognizing Angelo hovering nearby.
Carlos’ mouth opened, blood spurting as he coughed then fell still.
A guard’s gloved hand lowered his eyelids.
Angelo smiled.
Fifteen months into sentence.
Gabe’s life had become a boring monotony, punctuated by emails from Liliana Pagan, phone calls
from his brother and the letters he found himself writing to Angelo.
Letters he couldn’t mail.
He began writing Angelo the night he arrived in the Poconos, an angry ten-page rant calling Angelo a
few choice words like coward and selfish. He felt better, loads better after writing that, so every time
the loneliness and other intense emotions became too much, he wrote Angelo.
Then he stuffed the letters into his desk drawer.
Every two weeks, he drove the ten miles into town, treating himself to a movie or a haircut or
whatever he felt like. Then he’d buy whatever groceries he needed at the local grocery store.
Old man Bodine turned control of his store over to his son. Trevor, read the name tag. Trevor who
held Gabe’s gaze a bit too long and stared at his mouth when he spoke. Trevor of the smiling brown
eyes and unruly dark hair under the dirty trucker hat.
Gabe gave no thought to being with anyone else. Sex fell somehow to the wayside, the urge creeping
up on him in the dead of night when he lay all alone in his wide, lonely bed. He’d roll over, calling
up the memory of golden eyes and black, flowing hair, and he’d bring himself off, spurting into his
palm as his eyes burned and his chest ached.
Despite Trevor’s barely hidden interest, Gabe was still taken aback when the store owner asked him
out to a bar. Even as his head said no way, his mouth was saying yes. And later that summer evening
he found himself having a good time, smiling a time or two, and when Trevor moved in for a kiss at
the end of the night, Gabe didn’t stop him.
The kiss was sweet, the brush of Trevor’s stubble familiar yet not. He tasted of the beer and barbecue
they’d enjoyed earlier and Gabe liked it, but something was missing.
Trevor wasn’t Angelo.
It was unfair to judge and dismiss a nice guy based on that very biased criteria, so Gabe found
himself saying yes to another date.
And another.
Chapter Fourteen
“Pagan.”
Angelo looked up from his game of chess with Ricky.
“Time to get ready for your visit,” the guard said.
Ah, his visit. The one and only person he’d be seeing from the outside in almost
sixteen months. Today, he got to meet his mystery partner, Mr. S.
He sat in the visiting area, head back, eyes closed. His time in the prison so far had been
relatively excitement free, except for the day his uncle was killed.
The gang members who started the brawl were thrown in the brig for thirty days apiece, including
Ricky, but the powers that be had no idea who’d actually wielded the blade.
Turns out, Angelo had friends in here willing to do a favor for the right price. It all came down to
money and he’d counted on it when he’d formulated his plan.
A shadow moved in front of him as his visitor sat behind the clear glass separating them.
Syren Rua. The one remaining member of the Rua family, Brazil’s longest-running crime syndicate.
Angelo had never seen the man face-to-face, communicating via emails, texts and lawyers. In person
Syren Rua was a small man, maybe all of five-six with a head of white-blond hair and eyes the palest
blue.
The word delicate came to mind instantly. Then beautiful.
The man was beautiful, his high cheek bones, small nose and pouty lips giving him an almost girlish
appearance. But his eyes, they spoke of pain and things best left unspoken, of darkness and a man
older beyond whatever his age was.
Rua picked up the phone on his end with a smirk.
Angelo did the same.
“Have you looked your fill, Pagan?”
Motherfucker! He knew that voice. Angelo gaped at the man demanding silence with flashing eyes.
Syren Rua, his partner in taking down the Delatorres, was Faro, broker for the Delatorres.
“What the hell?” Was the man suicidal, operating that far inside the enemy camp?
Rua shrugged. “It’s business as usual, Mr. Pagan. I do what must be done.”
To get his revenge on the man who ordered the execution of his family and sold ten-year-old Syren off
as a sex worker. Angelo knew this, though no one else did. Everyone assumed the entire Rua family
had been wiped out. Apart from Angelo, Peter and Syren, the only other person who knew was
Ricardo Delatorre.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Very.” Syren waved a hand. “But it’s not about me today. I wanted to let you know we’re on
schedule.”
“The house?” Angelo raised an eyebrow. He’d given Peter the plans for the building he’d drawn up
with the sketchpad Gabe gave him and directed the lawyer and Mr. S to build that house in a state and
area of his choosing.
“The house is coming along quite nicely.” Syren reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a
photo. “Did you plan to move in with your amado? I think not.” Syren slapped the photo up to the
glass.
It was Gabe kissing another man. Eyes closed, hands fisted in the other man’s shirt, kissing.
Despite the acid churning in his gut and the urge to shoot someone, Angelo shrugged. “Bound to
happen.”
Syren laughed. “You don’t fool me, but it’s okay. Did you know he resigned from his job and moved
out of town?”
No, he didn’t know, but Angelo didn’t blink and Syren shrugged, pretty face twisting into a grin. He
put the photo back in his jacket and leaned forward.
“You have a little bit of time left. Stay out of trouble, Mr. Pagan. I’ll see you on the outside.”
* * * * *
His release was delayed by two months, but he was finally free. Angelo walked out of that prison
with a vow he wouldn’t seek out Gabe.
His lover had moved on.
Time he did the same.
The first place he went, after calling his mother, was to Brooklyn, to celebrate with the men he’d led
for so long. To hug Pablo and give him kudos for a job well done in keeping the streets drug and
violence free. After a rowdy party of alcohol and laughter, he went back to his mother’s house.
Where everything began and where it would all end.
His mother had cleaned the place out. It was a shell, but he walked around the rooms one final time
before he went about the final stages of his plan. He showered and shaved, opening the back door to
let in Pablo and his friend from the morgue.
The two wheeled in a body on a gurney and he waved them to the basement as he texted Syren.
Pablo’s friend left and Pablo stayed behind, working beside Angelo in silence as they poured
accelerant over the body placed on the bed, wearing the clothes Angelo had on earlier. That, plus a
forensic dentist with a fat bank account should convince everyone the body was Angelo’s.
They soaked the basement in gasoline then Angelo struck the match. The two men raced up the stairs,
and out the back door, Angelo taking the time to set the lock from the inside before slamming it shut.
Seated in Pablo’s car across the street, they watched the house go up in flames, driving away only
when sirens wailed in the distance. Pablo drove him to a motel near the border of Brooklyn and
Queens, pulling him into a hug.
“Good luck, amigo.”
“Gracias.” Angelo hugged him tight. “Gracias, Pablo.”
He got a room and quickly turned on the TV. His burning house was all over the news, newscasters
reporting him dead, the fire marshals hesitating to confirm or deny.
One call to his mother later, he was in a cab, heading to a private air strip.
* * * * *
The phone woke Gabe. He rolled over with a groan, reaching blindly for the damn thing on his
nightstand.
He flipped it open with one eye closed. “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Damn it, Kane! I was sleeping.”
His brother hesitated. “I know and I’m sorry, but you need to know that Angelo Pagan was declared
dead in a house fire like two hours ago.”
Gabe jerked upright, flinging off the covers. “What? What are you telling me right now?”
“Calm down. Damn.” Kane sighed in his ear. “I’m sorry. His body was charred beyond recognition.”
“Oh God!” Gabe fell off the bed and onto his knees. “Oh God.” Angelo was gone. Gone. “I can’t— I
can’t breathe.”
“Gabe!” Kane shouted. “Don’t make yourself sick. Fuck. I’m all the way in California, else I’d be on
my way to you right now.”
“I need to go there. I need to see him.”
“No,” Kane said sharply. “You’ll give it all away if you do and you know full well he wouldn’t want
that.”
“His mother.” Gabe gasped. “I have to reach her.”
“Do that, but call me back when you’re done,” Kane said. “Promise me.”
Gabe did and quickly hung up, composing an email and hitting send.
Now to wait.
“Fuck!” He paced and paced until his knees gave out and he huddled in the corner of his bedroom,
knees to his chest, and cried.
A sound woke him minutes or maybe hours later. It was still dark out, still night. He struggled to his
feet, eyes gritty, mouth like sandpaper.
A bump sounded at the front of the cabin and he grabbed his gun from his nightstand. The cell phone
in his hand beeped low battery and he grimaced. He crept out to the living room as his front door
creaked open, the intruder getting past the quite sophisticated locks he had installed.
A dark figure crept in, closing the door softly behind him.
“Hands up, fucker.” Gabe cocked his gun. “You picked the wrong time to do this.”
“Did I? I thought my timing was impeccable, amado.”
Gabe must have blacked out because the next thing he knew, twinkling golden eyes were peering
down at him where he lay on the floor and his gun was gone.
Quite embarrassing, really. But Angelo was alive and in his house and looking so fucking—
Gabe drew his hand back and punched Angelo in the nose. Bones crunched, blood flew and Angelo
yelled.
“Ow, fuck!” He cupped his nose as blood dripped. “What the hell was that for?”
“You cut your fucking hair!” Gabe struggled upright, glaring at Angelo. He’d chopped all his hair off.
Leaving only a shadow on his scalp. His eyes were more defined, his cheekbones more prominent.
He’d lost weight too.
Angelo wiped his nose on his sleeve and squinted down at him. “Really. That’s all you’ve got to say
to me?”
“Why are you here?” The shocking numbness in Gabe’s limbs dissipated and he held on to the wall as
he got to his feet. “I thought you were dead.”
“You did command me to come back to you so where else would I be but with you?” Angelo winked,
but his smile was a bit strained. “And I am dead, at least Angelo Pagan is.”
Okay, Gabe needed a drink. And to plant his foot back on solid ground. “I don’t think I want to know
what you’re talking about. I also don’t understand why you’re here. You broke up with me, remember
that letter?”
Angelo grew somber. “It needed to be done. I had to protect you. My mail wasn’t safe in prison, you
know that. Phone calls are monitored and listened in on, you know that too.” Angelo touched his
shoulder briefly. “We also know you wouldn’t have wasted any time in trying to contact me any way
you could. I needed to shut that down.”
“Do you know what that letter did to me?” Gabe grabbed Angelo’s arm, holding on tight. “You
shattered my heart.” The pain of that day came roaring back and he twisted away, giving Angelo his
back.
“You think writing it didn’t shatter mine?” Angelo’s hot breath blasted Gabe’s nape. “But it worked,
didn’t it? You moved on to someone else.”
Gabe stiffened. “You’ve had people watching me this whole time?” Why the hell was he surprised?
Angelo liked being in control.
“They were making sure you were okay.” Angelo grasped his shoulder and turned him around. “They
were watching out for you and when I saw the picture of you kissing that guy, I called them off.”
Christ!
He heard it, the pain and jealousy Angelo tried to hide. Gabe held his gaze. “Why did you call them
off?”
Angelo shrugged. “You’d moved on and you were safe. My enemies didn’t know about you, so there
was no need to hold on to what was no longer mine.”
Gabe ached to punch him again.
“You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that? I did what you asked, I moved on. At least I tried to, but
that shit wasn’t working. He’d touch me and I’d compare that to yours. He’d look at me and I’d see
your eyes.” That thing with Trevor turned into a major train wreck mighty fast.
Angelo stared at him. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No.”
“Did you want to?”
“What the fuck is this, twenty questions?” Gabe swung around, but Angelo caught his wrist, held him
in place.
“Answer me, cop.”
Those words flowed over him, thick and husky, setting his heart rate off at a gallop. Gabe swallowed
and shook his head.
“I didn’t want him, but I wanted to want him. I wanted to forget all the shit you’d done and give
myself over to someone else.” He looked up from under his lashes. “Someone not you.”
Angelo’s lips curved. He moved in close, real close. Close enough for Gabe to inhale his heat and
whimper.
“How’d that work out for you?” Angelo asked. He leaned in, brushing his lips over Gabe’s throat.
“Still hate me? Still want to forget?”
Gabe grabbed him by the throat, squeezing as Angelo shuddered. “That’s not going to happen. You’re
stuck with me.” He kissed him, tongue doing a thorough job of searching out the warm recesses of his
mouth.
Angelo rubbed against him, his erection heavy beneath the jeans he wore. Gabe palmed his ass,
pulled him in tighter, gyrating on that bulge.
Hungry sounds rumbled in Angelo’s throat and Gabe broke the kiss to look deeply into those dilated
eyes.
“Angelo Pagan is dead, right?” He unbuckled Angelo’s belt, unzipping his jeans as Angelo toed off
his boots. Wiggling a hand between hot skin and boxers, Gabe circled Angelo’s erection. “What’s
your name?”
“Hmm.” Angelo threw his head back, bucking into Gabe’s palm. “Raphael Soto, but you can call me
Rafe.”
Gabe dropped to his knees, pulling down Angelo’s—Rafe’s—jeans and throwing them off to the side.
“What’s your plans after this, Rafe? You get one last spit shine for the road and disappear?” He
stroked the cock pulsing in his hand steadily though his voice wobbled and his insides quivered.
Where did he fit into this new life?
Rafe canted his hips forward, limbs trembling. “Shit! My plan is to love you as long as you let me.”
Gabe pressed his face to Rafe’s crotch, hiding his smile. Shaking fingers tunneled through his hair and
he lifted his head, meeting Rafe’s gaze as he opened his mouth and took him inside.
Rafe bucked, breath rushing out of him and Gabe moaned at that familiar spice melting on his tongue.
Hollowing his cheeks, he dipped his head lower, dragging his lips along the length. Rafe pulsed and
dripped. Gabe worked him with mouth and hands, sucking while stroking from the base to the crown,
squeezing Rafe’s root, tongue sliding across that sensitive ridge.
He hadn’t allowed himself to think about getting this back, this feeling, this taste, so he closed his
eyes and savored, saliva flowing, mixing with Rafe’s natural slick. He cupped the heavy balls drawn
up tight, fondling them as Rafe parted his thighs wider.
Gabe brushed the pad of his thumb over the area between balls and ass then moved farther south,
pushing into Rafe with the saliva-slick finger.
The muscles clamped down, burning him, holding him tight.
“Ugh, Gabe.” Rafe rolled his hips, sending his cock deeper into Gabe’s mouth as he rode the finger in
his ass.
They stayed like that, grunts and groans filling the room, until Gabe’s knees and jaw ached. He
released Rafe and got to his feet with a helping hand.
“Bedroom.”
He tugged Rafe after him, throwing him down on the mattress, taking a second to admire the tattooed
skin exposed to him. Rafe bent his knees, stroking his cock as Gabe stripped and snatched the lube
from the dresser.
He climbed atop the bed and positioned himself between Rafe’s knees. Slicking his hard-on with the
lube, Gabe pushed two fingers back inside Rafe, stretching him, hooking and pressing on that gland.
Rafe bucked.
Gabe removed his fingers and slammed in. All that heat and tightness nearly had him losing his mind.
Rafe gripped the sheets, arching, wriggling on Gabe.
Gabe allowed no time to think, no time for words, pulling out and slamming in. “God, yeah.” Rafe
stroked himself.
Gabe stared down at him through slitted eyes. “I don’t care what your name is,” he rasped. “I love
you.”
Those golden eyes widened, brightened, and he lowered himself on his elbows, plunging in and out of
Rafe’s heated channel. He took his lover’s mouth, their groans mingling, blending.
“I love you, cop.” Rafe spoke when they broke apart for air. “Be with me.”
“Yes.” Gabe tongued his neck, bit into his skin as Rafe’s muscles spasmed around him. “No matter
what, no one’s leaving.” He reared back, palming Rafe’s throat as he glared down at him. “No one.”
“Hmm, fuck!” Sticky cum shot from Rafe and onto Gabe’s stomach.
“Yeah, just like that.” The wild contractions in Rafe’s ass pulled Gabe down as he kissed Rafe, open-
mouthed and desperate, and spilled inside him. Sealing their love.
“I’m not letting you go,” he warned as he struggled for breath. “Not again.”
Rafe pulled him close, their bodies stuck together by his cum. “Remember that house you saw me
sketching with my birthday gift?”
Gabe nodded, laying his head on Rafe’s chest. Still cocooned inside Rafe, his cock jerked. “Yeah.”
“I had it built. In North Carolina.”
Gabe lifted his head. “That’s your escape plan? To build a house and live in North Carolina as Rafe
Soto?”
“Yes. Be my life partner, or my husband. Be whoever you want to be, just be with me.”
Gabe’s jaw dropped. “What’s— Am I supposed to change my name and disappear into obscurity with
you?” And really, why did that appeal so much?
“You don’t have a job since you quit the NYPD. As Raphael Soto, I’ll have my own architectural
business. I’ll need a business partner.”
Gabe lifted an eyebrow.
“Or a secretary, your choice.”
Gabe chewed his lower lip. Could he leave it all behind and be with Angelo—uh, Rafe?
“Do I have to call you Rafe?”
“Yep.”
“Nah, I think I’ll stick to Angel.” He rubbed his palm over Rafe’s scalp. “I want you to grow your
hair back. What am I supposed to pull while I’m fucking you?”
Rafe smiled. Big and wide and filled with relief. “Done.”
“I’m not.” Gabe glanced away then back at him. “You wanna get married?”
Rafe laced their fingers and brought them to his lips. “If you want to. I want us to be together, period.”
I want the same. “Don’t know if that’s legal where we’ll be living, but we can do this. Pledge
ourselves to each other.” God, how did that manage to sound corny and heavy at the same time?
Rafe laughed. “Mami will love that.”
“My brother won’t.” Gabe nipped his chin. “Where is your mother by the way? We’ve been emailing
back and forth, but she won’t tell me where she is.”
“In North Carolina. In her own house,” Rafe said quickly. “Ten minutes away from ours.”
Gabe blew out a breath. “Thank God!”
Epilogue
They stood on the beach in matching white slacks and shirts, the surf lapping at their bare ankles.
Mere feet away was their house, isolated from anyone.
Their home.
Rafe met his mother’s watery eyes with a smile. She looked younger, relaxed. Carried herself with a
grace and confidence he’d waited a long time to see. Next to her stood Kane, in tan slacks and pale-
pink shirt. He looked good, that air of disapproval about him long gone. He’d spent enough time with
them to witness the permanent smile on his brother’s face, the lightness in his step and the happiness
and laughter that filled their home.
Six months since getting out of prison and Rafe still had to pinch himself. They’d created a life and a
business, made some friends and established themselves in the community. No one looked twice at
them. They were accepted and Gabe was happy, therefore Rafe was happy.
He looked past the minister smiling graciously to his lover standing beside him, eyes watery, smile
wobbly, and Rafe felt full to bursting.
He never thought they’d end up here, but he had no complaints. His enemies thought he’d died so no
one was looking for him. He hadn’t heard from Syren Rua beyond the housewarming plant he’d sent.
Rafe had spilled everything to Gabe and his lover had taken it all in stride. Neither of them knew
what Syren’s plan was with the Delatorres but Rafe had done his share. If Syren needed him later
down the road, he’d help any way he could without endangering his family.
Family came first.
“Rafe. Gabe.” The minister motioned for them to stand together.
They did, shoulder to shoulder, Gabe on Rafe’s left side.
Gabe laced their fingers, caressing the gold ring on Rafe’s ring finger. Gabe wore a matching one on
his ring finger, rings they’d exchanged the night they moved into their home.
Rafe squeezed him.
“I love you,” Gabe whispered.
Rafe grinned. “Te amo, cop.”
“Today, you vow your love and dedication to each other,” the minister said. “Please repeat after
me…”
The End
About the Author
Caribbean transplant, Avril now lives in Brooklyn, N.Y., with a tolerant Spousal Equivalent.
Together they raise a daughter who loves reading and school (not so much school anymore). Avril’s
earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing plot points of Nancy Drew and the Hardy
Boys with an equally book-mined mother.
Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09
and never looked back. Spicy love scenes, delicious heroes, and wicked women burn up the pages of
Avril’s Stories, but there’ll always be a happy endin; Av remains a believer of love in all its forms.
Avril welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email
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