Page 41 of The Primary Pest
Dmytro gazed sourly at the sky.
He would not look at Ajax again. He’d spent enough time studying the straight line of his spine already. That disgraceful mop of curly hair. His long neck and broad shoulders. His slim hips, rounded buttocks, and coltish legs.
Oh, yes, he’d clocked Ajax when he’d risen from the hot tub with his cock hard and goose flesh all over his skin. With his overblown pupils and water dripping down his body in tiny rivers like sweat after sex.
I saw you and I wanted you. Worse, I might even like you.
He’d schooled his face and kept his body disinterested. In his old life, to betray even a breath of interest in Ajax would have led to certain death. He’d kept his thoughts—his yearnings—to himself for so long they didn’t even feel like a part of him anymore. It was as if they belonged to someone else.Livedsomewhere else now, except for some baggage in a closet that he hadn’t quite cleared out.
But he knew now. His body knew, and it wouldn’t be so easy to hide his attraction to Ajax. Especially with Ajax taunting him.I could blow you. Rim you. Ride you.
He’d wanted all of that and more, and somehow he’d managed to keep a blank expression on his face and any irritation out of his voice when he’d replied.
Reflexively, he checked inside the car.
Ajax was still asleep.
Relieved, Dmytro made a brief trip to the restroom, had a piss, and went around to the back to stare into the silent darkness. His muscles had grown stiff from holding still for so long, so he stamped his legs and stretched.
Serious or not, it had been a while since Dmytro had been propositioned by a man. Most found out he had children and simply didn’t bother. If they did, they were older, and often they were married and looking to cheat. It wasn’t difficult to say no to something like that, but Ajax…
He had to have been making fun. Turning his boredom into a silly, shocking game.
All Dmytro had to do was get home to his girls. He didn’twantto be a part of Ajax’s sad little drama. This was too dangerous. Too close to his real life for him to even contemplate. He returned just as the gas pump shut off. Bartosz looked a little bored.
“You okay?”
“Sure.” Bartosz retrieved a flask from his jacket pocket and offered Dmytro a drink.
Dmytro shook his head.
“Such a choirboy,” he mocked. “Despite all your time with our less than lawful friends abroad, you live like a priest.”
“All the priests I ever met were drunks.”
“Point.” Bartosz pointed the flask at him. “But what about the boy?”
Dmytro winced. “What about him?”
“He has a very sweet mouth.” Bartosz was as fond of eavesdropping as Ajax was of shocking people. Either way, the entire episode in the back seat had been a win for both of them.
Bartosz drank before wiping his lips in an unsubtle, suggestive way. “I don’t mind telling you, I could enjoy guarding that body up close.”
“Don’t be a pig.” He doubted Bartosz meant the words. They both knew not to shit where they ate. “He’s a baby.”
“He’s a perfectly fuckable age, even in these puritanical United States. Plus, I read his file. He’s whored himself out plenty already. You think he’d mind?”
Dmytro narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t think you were teasing—”
“Of course I’m teasing, brother.” Bartosz’s good nature was back. “It wasn’t me he propositioned.”
“He was only trying to shock me.”
“The way he looks at you makes me wonder if he’d put up much of a fight if you gave him a try.”
“You really think I’m that sort of man? To just ‘give a try’?” He poked Bartosz’s chest. “That should disgust even you.”
“You misunderstand. I’m sayingwoo him. He looks at you like you’re the last kolaczki on the plate.”
