Page 39 of Dangerous Games

I ride him, slamming my body down on his as he holds me close to him, our bodies and souls becoming one. I feel as if I’m floating, and the moment I think about it, I realize I am. I’m floating, away from my body, away from this moment, and toward something I don’t understand.

“Take me,” I whisper, as I open my eyes and stare at him. “Take my body, my heart, my soul.” He closes his eyes, and he grunts, spanking me hard, and I feel my body tighten around him. I’m on the edge of a climax, and I can feel my body tensing for it. I don’t need to touch myself, or rub myself, or do anything else. All I need to do is feel him inside of me and it’s enough to drive me over the edge.

He stares at me but doesn’t say anything. He just lets me take him, and he lets me be in control. He doesn’t struggle to get away from me or try to get back on top. He lets me have my way with him.

I ride him hard and fast, slamming my body down on his.

“Come,” he says, and I do. I come, hard, and he does too. He comes with me, and he comes in me, filling me with his seed, uniting us, joining us together. I collapse on top of him, and he holds me close, stroking my hair, my face, my back. I can feel his cock inside of me, his arms wrapped around me. I feel his hands gently caressing me, possessively, as if he understands what I've given him just now.

And then I feel it, a feeling I’ve never felt, the total and complete sensation of being home. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know why I feel it, but I know that it’s real. I know that it exists. And I know it’s him. I know that it’s what I’ve always wanted.

"You need to rest," he says, kissing the top of my head.

What I really need is for him to hold me, but sleep tugs at my eyelids. It's emotion-induced, but the day has worn on me. I want to see Jimmy, but maybe I’ll just take a short nap. I roll off of him and before my head hits the pillow I sleep.

23

DOMINIC

Nanette is already snoring lightly by the time I finally get my pants on and buckled. My arm hurts like hell, but I have to learn to manage. She’s right. I need my doctor to come give me a checkup and some antibiotics, but connecting with her was far more important to me than that.

I head down to my office with only minutes to spare. I told Jimmy two hours and in just a few minutes that threshold will pass. I’ve already made the plans; I was simply waiting on him to finish his first task. This next one will seem like a cake walk for him if he does it as I have planned for him. Everything fell into place the moment Gallagher walked into that restaurant. That, too, was planned. I’m sure both Jimmy and Nanette realize that now.

Nanette has changed too. The way she interacts with me, the way she fucks me, even her tone of voice. She’s different—whole even. The most intriguing part of this whole thing to me is that she didn’t need revenge on Gallagher to be whole. Just learning to trust that I keep my word was enough to bring her out of that cave of trauma-fueled fear. Jimmy, on the other hand, still needs justice.

I sit behind my desk, thirsty for a drink of my Scotch, but I know that will only thin my blood and I need the doctor to stitch me up before I go doing that. So, I abstain, though the drink would also help me deal with the excruciating pain.

Jimmy walks in on the hour, exactly when he is supposed to be here. I look up from my sleepy, pain-induced haze, and nod at the chair across from me. He stares at my shirtless body, blood still seeping slowly from the bullet hole in my shoulder. The blood smears down my chest and arms, dripping from my fingertips. Two inches lower and I’d have been breathing blood, but lucky for me Nick was a horrible shot.

Bruises and cuts litter my skin—some old, some new, almost like a topographical map. “So, you got him?” Jimmy says as he sits. He stares at the bullet hole as if it reminds him of the one given to him years ago. It isn’t my first injury like this, and I’m sure it won’t be my last. It may not be Jimmy’s last either, the one Gallagher gave him. Not if he accepts my proposal which I’m about to offer him.

“Yeah, I got him.” I nod slowly and my eyes feel heavy. “He’s dead, along with at least ten others who united with him to overturn my authority.” I lick my teeth, tasting Nanette’s sweat on my lips as I do. Jimmy eyes me nervously.

“Am I done then? Are Nanette and I free to go?” He shifts in the chair, folding his hands together before pulling them apart and fiddling with the ring on his right hand. I can see he is scared of me; it’s a good place to be. It’s always a good place to be.

“Well, there is the matter of one of my family members dying that we need to discuss.” I reach out with my right hand and open my top desk drawer. The forty-four magnum that I keep there is loaded, ready for use, and I pull it out and lay it on the desk facing Jimmy. He blanches, licking his lips and scooting back into the seat as if the gun is a rabid dog that may jump out and bite him.

“I didn’t kill any of your family, Dominic. Just the Italian.” His voice is full of tremors, shaking as much as his hands now do. He thinks I will kill him over this, which shows me how little he truly knows me. I could potentially cut him loose, swear him to secrecy, and let him live his life. I have enough dirt on him and proof of his involvement, that if he turns against me, I can turn him in just as easily. He’d go down along with the ship. But there is this small matter I promised Nanette.

“Red didn’t deserve to die on the street in front of your house, James.” I use his given name and he sobers, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobs, fear flooding his eyes.

“Look, Dom, I couldn’t have known they were coming to get him.” Jimmy holds his hands up defensively and shakes his head. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“If you had killed that Italian when you were supposed to, gotten me the information about the mole sooner, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” I nudge the gun and nod at it. “Pick it up.”

He swallows again, hesitating. His eyes dart to the weapon then back to my face. “Dom… I…”

“Don’t piss me off, Jimmy. Pick up the fucking gun.” I glare at him until he picks it up. “How does it feel?” I ask, probing him. He looks at me nervously. He thinks he can shrink back into the darkness of my office and vanish, but he doesn’t know what I have planned for him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, how does it feel knowing you have justice within your reach?”

“Dom, I’d never do that. I won’t kill you.”

That’s a lie. Given the right means, opportunity, and motive, anyone would kill me. I’m not a stupid man. Jimmy is as base as the rest of us. An Italian could walk up to him tomorrow and pay him ten million and I’m as good as dead. What I’m offering him is way more than that—something that will prove his loyalty to me and Nanette and secure him a place in my family forever. He may not be blood, but after this, I’ll consider him as much.

“Gallagher will be at the opera house on Hoewisher Street, Tuesday night at seven p.m. for an evening showing of Madam Butterfly. You will go in the back entrance using that gun.” I talk calmly, and he looks down at the weapon. The silencer is built in, which will make it even easier for him. “He will be in box twelve, alone. His wife will suddenly be sick right before it is time to leave, and since he is due to meet a foreign dignitary immediately following, he will not be late.”

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