Page 10 of His Enforcer

He better not be telling anyone my shit. I don’t think he’s ever mentioned that night at the club to anyone. No one’s ever said anything to me, and there were no suspicious glances or backhanded comments in the following weeks or months.

Years.

It’s been years. He must have kept it a secret.

I’m sure there’s a reason for it.

Maybe it’s what happened after.

I don’t know, but I’ve been waiting three years for the inevitable shoe to drop. I bet he enjoys hanging it over me. Asshole.

I fucking despise him.

And even so, I’d still let him fuck me.Again.

Not that he’d ever, but a boy can have nightmares.

“Pull over here,” he says, pointing to an ice cream shop on the side of the road. It’s an older building, one that’s been here for ages, but one that Luca enjoys frequenting.

“What the fuck? I’m not pulling over for fucking ice cream.”

“I want a cone,” Luca says, and I force my hands to turn the wheel.

“You’re a fucking child,” I murmur, and he grins at me.

“At least I have underwear on.”

His comment is punctuated by the car jerking to a stop and me shutting it off with a jab of my finger. He slides out and strides inside while I wait for him to return. My eyes may slide to his tight ass once more, and I slam the palm of my hand against the steering wheel. I can’t help how attracted I am to him, and I hate how I can’t seem to rid myself of this obsession.

He’s to blame. He started it, just by existing.

He’s the reason I realized I was gay.

The way I thought of him back then, imagined him, after just laying eyes on him. That was all it took to seal it for me.

I hate the power he’s had over me all these years, and I hate that it hasn’t dissipated in the slightest.

When he returns to the car, he has a double scoop in his hand, and I swear to Satan that if he gets any of that vanilla on his lips, I may fucking lose my shit.

Just as I think it, his tongue slides out and licks at the ice cream. A small whimper escapes my slutty throat, one that’s thankfully hidden by the sound of the ignition being turned on.

“Any other stops?” I ask, hoping my voice comes out less strained and more rough. I’m not sure I manage it. “Fast food? A play area?”

He chuckles and then laps at that fucking ice cream cone again. “No, I have what I need right here.” He licks at it again, slower this time. “Mm, so fucking good.”

A little bit dribbles down the corner of his mouth and he uses his thumb to wipe it up, leaving my cock looking just like that ice cream cone in his hands. Dripping and wet. It’s clear. I really need to get laid.

I should go back to the club this weekend. I’ve been gone long enough.

I really fucking should. They’ve asked when I’d be returning, but I can’t give them an answer. That night,that fucking night, changed everything.

“Can you stop fucking slurping like that?” I grumble.

Luca grins, his lips wet as his tongue snakes out again and drags up the scoop, like he’s licking a dick. I imagine it’s mine, and I hate that I want it.

He’d never do that, would never touch me like that.

But me? I’d loathe getting on my knees for him, but I’d moan like a whore while he fucked my throat.

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