Page 9 of Play Dirty

Azrael

It was three in the morning when Az finally made it to Rio. What should have been a six hour flight had taken three days thanks to somebody hacking Az’s accounts and getting him put on a goddamn watchlist. Instead of boarding a plane in Miami, he’d almost found himself arrested. Luckily, he never traveled without a backup plan. One outfit change and an abandoned suitcase later, he managed to escape the airport without detection.

It was his own fault. He’d left the clue for Madigan to find, hoping if he ‘stole’ another kill from him, it would make him more amenable to the deal Az planned to offer. He’d thought Madi might use his aliases to hobble Az, but he hadn’t expected to be cut off at the knees. That was Madigan, though. All extremes. Why walk when you could run? Why hit if you could stab? If Az had thought their little games had endeared him to Madi, this exercise in patience had pulled the veil from his eyes. Or perhaps, in a world where two people enjoyed fighting as much as fucking, this was a love letter? It wasn’t as if Az had ever spent more than one night with anybody but Madigan, but that hardly made them an epic love story.

Az shook his head as his cab crawled through the streets. Even at three in the morning, revelers were still out, crowding the pavement. Through the tempered glass windows of the cab, Az could hear the feverish beats of music. There were men and women in costumes mixed with people dressed like they’d spilled out onto the streets from the clubs. It was too late in the year forCarnivale,though.

“What celebration is this?” Az asked the driver in Portuguese.

The man gave him a curious look. “Halloween.”

Az scoffed. Yes. Halloween. How could he have forgotten? He blamed it on his throbbing headache. Once more, he looked back out the window, noting the revelers with fresh eyes. His seventy-two hour detour had left him too exhausted to think straight. He just wanted a stiff drink, a shower to wash away his days of travel, and a comfortable bed.

Az supposed it said something that Madigan was still there. Carlos Silva was long dead, with a perfect hole smack between his eyes. He’d seen evidence of it himself when he’d had the body removed from the morgue. Madi never missed a shot, and his entry wounds were a thing of beauty and precision.

But he’d almost ruined Az’s plans. Luckily, Az still had connections in this part of the world. If not, Az would have had nothing left to bargain with. He wasn’t sure what he did have was enough of a lure for somebody like Madigan, but Az had to try. He had to make Madi see reason. Az just wasn’t sure anybody had ever accused Madi of being reasonable.

As the cab pulled up to the Copacabana Palace, Az had a thought. Perhaps Madigan was simply here for Halloween festivities? Or maybe it was a set-up to finally take Az out once and for all? He shook the thought away as fast as it came. He wouldn’t have disabled Az’s entire life if he’d only meant to kill him. He would have done it in the last hotel room while he slept.

It took nothing for Az to bribe the attendant into handing over the hotel key for Mr. Smith’s room. The girl behind the counter was distracted, staring out into the dark night like, if she just squinted enough, she too could be out partying the night away instead of trapped at her shit job, dealing with assholes like him who thought they could charm their way into room keys. He thanked the girl in Portuguese, and she gave him a barely-there nod.

Az left her to her daydreaming, boarding the elevator and trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened. It was a sensation only Madigan could produce, a strange adrenaline rush akin to the feeling Az had the moment he saw his poisons take effect, stopping the heart of those he killed. Az grinned, and his reflection grinned back. What a strangely sentimental thought. Az couldn’t remember a time in his life when he felt that for anybody really, even his own family, but he’d always been an outsider there as well.

Az expected Madi to hear the lock disengage, thought he’d find a knife at his throat or a gun to his temple the moment he turned the key, but, instead, he found Madigan lying naked on his back, his head turned toward the windows, which he’d left cracked open, possibly so he could hear the sound of the revelers below.

The night breeze coming through the windows was balmy and heavy with promise, causing the gauzy white curtains to dance on the wind. Az carefully closed the door, his eyes roaming over Madigan’s beautiful form. He was stunning in any light, but the moonlight seemed particularly kind to him. In sunlight, he was all sharp smiles and hard edges, but here, kissed by the night, he was a work of art. Just looking at him made Az’s blood sing and his cock harden.

Az’s gaze strayed to the room service cart filled with empty dishes. He crept closer, palming the knife from the dishes and moving deftly toward Madigan. Only once Az had the knife placed firmly against Madi’s carotid did the other man stir, his hand darting out to grip Az’s wrist tight enough to leave bruises, moving it away from his skin but not disarming him entirely.

“It took you long enough,” Madi murmured, his voice a low rumble that went straight to Az’s dick.

Az slipped a leg over Madi’s hips, making no attempt to free his wrist. “Mm, I ran into some sudden financial trouble it seems.” He kept his tone casual. “You, on the other hand, have most likely found yourself a half a million dollars richer.”

Madi’s smile was fleeting, as sharp and swift as a serpent’s bite. “I have had a bit of a windfall lately. What are you going to do about it?”

Az pulled his arm free and dropped the knife beside the bed, leaning forward to lick over Madi’s lip before biting down hard enough to draw blood. He sucked the wound, shifting his weight so Madi could feel Az’s hard-on. Madi’s cock also seemed to take an interest in the proceedings, especially when Az trapped Madi’s arms loosely over his head.

“I was going to tie you up, face down,” Az crooned, biting his way up Madi’s throat with enough force to draw pained grunts from the man pinned beneath him. He continued to roll his hips, their cocks slotting together, the pressure sending shocks of pleasure along Az’s nerve endings. “Then I was going to take my time dragging my favorite knife along your skin, so I could lick the blood from your wounds while I fucked you…”

Az leaned forward, sucking the drop of blood from Madi’s still bleeding lip before plunging his tongue inside, letting Madi taste himself.

“Were?” Madi grumbled, his pupils dilated in the dim light, his hips still rising to meet each of Az’s lazy downward thrusts.

Az dropped down to the mattress beside him so they both looked up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above them. “Mm, but my revenge will have to wait until morning. I’m too tired, and I refuse to exact my revenge quickly. You’ve cost me half a million dollars. But more importantly, you’ve cost me the one thing I hold most precious. My sleep. So, now, you can wait.”

“Morning?” Madi asked, his tone borderline hostile. “What makes you think I’ll still be here in the morning?”

“Because I have a proposal for you, and I know your curiosity will be too piqued to leave.”

Madi’s responding snort was filled with derision, but he didn’t deny the claim, just turned onto his side away from Az, possibly to contemplate what fool’s bargain might be in store for him.

Az took advantage of Madi’s position, curling against him, his arm snaking around the man’s waist and pulling him back into him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Madigan whispered, sounding vaguely horrified.

Az frowned. “An ancient Pakistani death ritual,” he snarked before answering Madi’s question with the most obvious answer. “Sleeping, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Madigan snorted. “Snuggling me. You think I’m going to let you turn me into the little spoon? I am not a little spoon.”