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Hot bursts of his cum join mine, soaking us both with rope after rope of our releases.

My thighs tremble and all of my muscles clench with the waves of pleasure that go on and on.

Every bite and scratch aches on my skin like a brand, my scalp tingles and so do my lips.

Anders works us both furiously until my cock starts to soften and become oversensitive.

He finally shivers and releases one last thick spurt of cum before letting his hand fall away.

He sags into the bed and a satisfied smile curls the corners of his lips. I let my weight sink into him for just a second, reveling in the sticky, wet feeling of our cum all over our skin as I brush soft kisses over his lips.

ANDERS

Of all the things that nearly made me cry today, Luca’s tenderness following our orgasms is the one that rocks me the hardest. I swallow around the tight feeling in my throat as he rolls off of me.

“Thanks.” I let out a hoarse laugh, and Luca arches an eyebrow at me.

“Believe me, there’s no thanks required.” He nuzzles my cheek and then pulls me close again.

I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe slowly, focusing on the warmth of his skin and the smell of our sweat and cum hanging in the air, instead of the burning tears threatening to spill out or the realization that I forgot what it even felt like to be held after sex.

“How did a cinnamon roll pain slut like you become a mafioso anyway?” I ask, absently swirling my finger through the dark hair on his chest.

He chuckles. “Family business.” My head jostles with his shrug.

“Duh,” I mutter. “ Moretti . That makes sense.” Luca caresses up and down the curve of my spine and goose bumps pebble my skin. “Do you like it? Or is that a weird question to ask?”

He laughs again. “I like it just fine. I’m definitely not gunning for Lorenzo’s job or anything, but I’d be happy enough to work my way up a few rungs into a cushy position.”

There’s something amusing about the way he talks about his job just like anybody with a nine-to-five corporate career.

Like he’s not working for a criminal organization with blood on its hands and a pile of dirty money behind it.

Then again, I suppose that’s not all that different from most corporations when you get right down to it.

Besides, who am I to judge? Some people need to have their blood spilled.

My jaw ticks and my calm, sleepy mood evaporates. I sit up and Luca huffs in protest.

“I’m hungry,” I say, nudging him in the ribs.

He sits up too and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He undoes the last few buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off, then stands up and strips out of his pants and underwear.

“Well, if you hadn’t attacked me the second I got in the door, you would know that I brought home sandwiches.”

My lips twitch. “Are you complaining about the greeting?”

He leans back over the bed and brushes another kiss to my lips.

“Not at all.”

We get cleaned up and I put a fresh set of his clothes on because I’m tired of lounging around his place in my tight shorts and see-through shirt.

Luca directs me to the couch and tells me to pick something for us to watch while he goes to the front hall to retrieve the bags he dropped on his way in.

I pull up Killer Klowns From Outer Space and put my feet up on the coffee table.

“Nice,” he mutters when he sees what I picked. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a variety.” He sets down two bags brimming with sandwiches, then plops down next to me.

I stare at all the sandwiches for a second, each one labeled so I can easily choose what I want. A lump rises in my throat again and the burn returns, right behind my eyes.

Luca bumps his shoulder against mine. “They’re just sandwiches,” he says softly.

I swallow and nod. “Thank you.”

I rummage through the options for a minute and settle on the lone Reuben in the pile. A smile I can’t quite decipher flickers on his lips, and he grabs one of the leftover sandwiches without even reading the label.

I didn’t really expect it to help, but I think Luca really did manage to tame my demons, at least for a little while.

The weight that’s been on my chest since I read Finn’s text is lightened, and I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whether my dad is freaking out about me coming home or not.

With the ridiculous, campy horror movie playing and the two of us happily devouring our food, I feel surprisingly… peaceful.

“Do I want to know how your meeting this morning went?” I ask once we’re finished eating.

“It went well.” The answer is just vague enough to make my skin prickle.

“Are you going to kill him?” I can barely make myself whisper the question, my heart leaping against my ribcage and I’m not sure whether it’s more out of hope or fear at the idea.

Luca’s jaw ticks. “We’re going to try to get him sent to prison.”

The air rushes out of my lungs and I nod. I think I’m relieved, but I’m still not exactly sure. As horrible as he is, I don’t want him dead, do I?

My thoughts return to Finn and the possibility that he’s going to stay in Wildcliff. Maybe dead isn’t the worst option, if it’s the only way to make sure my brother is safe.

“I lied to you,” I blurt. “I didn’t pawn your watch or spend the money, not yet.

I’ve been robbing clients for the past year.

Not all of them, obviously, but the ones who looked like they could afford it.

I was building up a stash of money so that when Finn graduated, I’d be able to buy a new identity from the Morettis and leave town too. ”

Luca studies me quietly while the insane laughter of alien space clowns echoes from the TV in the background. “When does he graduate?”

“In just over two weeks.”

His eyes get steely, and he nods. “I don’t give a fuck about the money or the watch.” He brushes the back of his hand over my cheek, and I lean into his touch. “Is the stash at your place still?”

I shake my head. “It’s in my bag.”

“Good. We’ll pawn the items you have and then open a bank account for you with the money. We need to go get you some new clothes too.”

I frown. “It’s that easy? You’re just going to let me keep the money I stole from you?”

He shrugs. “It’s just money.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.

Luca doesn’t respond, and for a few seconds I just seethe at how simple he makes it sound, like money is meaningless when I’ve spent years doing what I’ve had to for it.

I look over at him and he’s watching me instead of the movie, and some of the venom seeps out of me.

“I’m sorry. You’re being sweet to me and I’m getting pissy. ”

He smirks and cups my jaw. “Get pissy then,” he says with that same simplicity. “I told you I don’t mind. And you have every right to fucking rage right now.”

I scoff. “You’re too good to be true. What’s the catch here?”

Luca snorts and then leans in to whisper in my ear, “I’m a no good, lousy criminal with a body count and a bit of a pain kink.”

I sputter a laugh. “Oh right, that .” I turn my head and kiss his cheek. “I might be able to live with all that.”

My throat tightens again when I realize how it sounds, like I’m planning to stay once everything with my dad is settled, like whatever Luca and I are doing here is real . Is it fucked up that I kind of want it to be?