Page 49 of Deadly Little Sparrow

I chuckle. “It was fun-adjacent.”

“Oh yeah? Top notch lap dance in there or what?”

“Much better than a lap dance.” I lower my voice suggestively, leaning in closer until our noses touch and Sparrow’s eyes dance with that beautiful spark of mischief and violence I can’t get enough of.

“How much better?” He licks his lips and wraps the length of my tie around his hand. I know what he wants to hear, but it’s only a partial victory tonight.

“The Fitzpatricks don’t give a fuck what we do with the Reapers.” I give him the good news first.

He moans and yanks my tie forcefully, slamming his lips into mine with a hunger that heats me instantly, consuming my insides and searing my veins. He drags his tongue over mine, the hot, wet feeling of it going straight to my cock.

Sparrow breaks the kiss, my tie still clutched in his fist, his chest heaving with panting breaths, lips swollen, and his eyes wild.

“Let’s go. Can we do it now?” he asks breathlessly.

“You want to just storm into their clubhouse and start shooting?” I arch an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs.

“Fine, quick strategy session and then let’s go fucking do it,” he concedes.

“As hot as your bloodlust makes me, we have to wait just a little while longer.”

He groans in frustration. “You’re killing me.”

More amusement rumbles in my throat. “I know, my little bird. I’m sorry.” I duck my face into the crook of his throat and press a kiss to his thundering pulse point. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to have another sit down with Enzo and the guys and make a plan. Can you wait that long?”

“It’s like murder edging,” he complains. “But yes, fine.”

“I thought you liked edging.” I grin, kissing my way back up towards his lips, feeling the hard shape of his arousal with his legs wrapped around me.

“I like edging you. I want instant gratification.” He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and bites it sharply. The ripple of brief, stinging pain makes my balls clench and draws a moan from deep in the pit of my stomach. “I’m all keyed up now. Let’s go do something.”

I cast around for a moment, trying to think of something that will feed his craving for violence. Preferably just enough that he’s desperate to get rough with me when we get home later.

“I’ve got just the thing. Get in.” I take a step back and Sparrow arches an eyebrow at me, that dangerous look in his eyes that never fails to make my knees quiver with the urge to kneel for him. “Get in, please, Sir. You’re going to love this.”

SPARROW

The smell of sweat and blood is so heavy in the air it nearly chokes me. Thunderous cheering and applause somehow doesn’t manage to drown out the wet, thudding sound of fists on flesh and the animalistic grunts of the men in the ring.

“For our first date you took me to a murder. Our second date is watching men beat the living hell out of each other,” I muse as Xaviaro leads me down the aisle to our seats.

I shouldn’t be surprised that even though we showed up halfway through the night, without any prior notice, we still got front row seats in a sold-out arena. The man out front was absolutely tripping over himself to make sure Xaviaro had whatever he wanted. Not gonna lie, it was pretty hot. My parents’ privilege bored the hell out of me, but there’s something different about the way people in this city rush to fall at Xaviaro’s feet. It’s not privilege because he just happens to have money, it’s respect. It’s fear.

It’s intoxicating.

“It seemed appropriate,” he says, shooting me a smirk over his shoulder. “The main fight should be next. You won’t believe this guy. He’s a fucking animal.”

I bounce on my toes excitedly, following him down the row to our seats. Apparently, this is the hottest show in town tonight if you’re a Moretti. Enzo is absent, but Alessio, Salvatore, and Elio are filling the seats next to ours, dressed in their usual suits—Sal’s is royal purple tonight—fixated on the violence a few feet away.

“I thought you were going to keep Enzo company,” Xaviaro says with a frown.

Alessio tears his attention off the ring where one man is now straddling the other on the ground, pounding his fist into his jaw.

“I called him and it sounded like he was with someone. He told me to piss off,” he explains with a shrug.

“Ooh, does the boss have a lady friend?” I ask.

Alessio barks out a laugh, and the other two swivel their attention in my direction too.

---