Page 8 of Darkness and Duress

“Or do. I'm okay with getting burned.”

“Mn. Don't say I didn't warn you.” He peeled himself from my back and I pouted. “No, you need to eat something before you go any further.”

I almost protested, but Jericho pushed me into the nearest couch and promptly straddled my lap to hold me in place. When a slider appeared in front of my lips, I begrudgingly took abite. I vaguely remembered ordering them. I'd also immediately forgotten about eating as soon as the drinks arrived. Thankfully, Jer always looked out for me. That’s why we were best friends. Especially now that Gianluca was off living his best married life.

The uninvited thought of Gianluca brought down my mood. I missed his regular appearances with the crew. I missed him. Suddenly morose, I let my head fall back against the headrest.

“Nope, keep eating. You’ve drunk more than all of us combined.” Jer pressed the slider burger against my lips. “Open wide for Daddy.”

I jerked my head back and forth with a laugh. “Ew, no. You know the deal. I ain't your boy.”

“Shut up and eat the food.” Jericho’s fingers clamped down around my jaw to hold me still. He didn't release his hold until I had consumed the entire thing. He even managed to get me to swallow down a few fries.

“Okay, fuck. Enough. You're gonna kill my buzz.” I pushed my friend from my lap with a grunt. “I need to move.”

“Just ease up on the binge drinking. I'm headed out in a little while to meet up with someone, so I won't be here to scrape your ass off the floor.”

“Ooo, a play date?” I used his body to drag myself to my feet and held tight until the world stopped spinning. When his face came back into focus, the fawn complexion was rosy and flushed. “That’s a yes.”

“Fuck off. I'm telling you nothing.”

“Good luck, man. I’ll be home later if you need a consolation fuck.” I pushed away from him with a sloppy grin and a stumble. Jer was a good guy. We’d gotten closer ever since mybest friendfucked off to live happily ever after. No one else in our friend group knew about Jericho’s longing for a relationship with someone who was willing to feed into his Daddy kink fantasies. He tried that shit with me the first time we hooked up and I hadto put a stop to it on the spot. To each their own. I wished him nothing but luck in his search.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the sensation of being watched intensified. Slowly turning in place, the figurative spotlight of Marco’s gaze reignited the nefarious flames of mischief making. I reveled in the visible tension that rose with each step I took toward him where he remained rooted on the couch. Honestly, I was surprised to find him still sitting there. Not a single person save for the waitress had dared approach him all night.

I downed the remnants of my drink and placed it on the table beside his with a slow smirk. “Someone looks grouchy.”

“Leave me alone—”

“Shh, Sad Panda. Let me make it all better.” I pressed a clumsy finger to his lips and all but fell into his lap, straddling his thighs with a laugh. “Half a bottle of scotch to your head and you're still so tense.”

I pressed a palm to his chest, which rewarded me with a low growl and a tight grip on my wrist.

“Don't. Touch. Me.”

“Awww, but where’s the fun in that, your Highness?” I rolled my hips side to side.

“Brandon, I will slit your fucking throat if you don't stop.” His grip tightened to the point of pain, but it only served to drive me wild.

“Your mouth is saying no, but your eyes are saying fuck yes.” I leaned closer until only an inch separated our faces. “Come on, I've always wanted to know if you fuck as good as your baby brother does.”

His expression shifted into something deadly dangerous. It was like watching a hurricane roll in off the water. I knew it was potentially lethal, but I couldn't look away from its mesmerizing intensity. With force and strength beyond mywildest imagination, he slung my body to the side. My back hit the firm cushion of the couch and before I could draw a startled gasp through my lips, his hand seized my jaw and his massive frame loomed over me like a predator on the precipice of delivering its killing blow.

“Shut. Your. Whore. Mouth.” His words pushed through his gritted teeth. His whole body trembled from head to toe. The fury in his eyes sent the blood rushing to my dick as a whimper escaped my constricted throat. With zero sense of self-preservation, I brought my hands to his sides and pulled his crisp, neat white button-down from the waistband of his pants until my palms found what I was looking for—miles of smooth, burning hot skin stretched taut over his quivering muscles.

He reared back as though it was my touch that burned him and not the other way around. That's when I saw it. The cracks in his polished veneer were visible for only a second as his eyes went wide and wild. His chest heaved, up and down, up and down, as he struggled to catch his breath. A quick flash of his tongue as he licked his lips was gone in the blink of an eye. His rumpled shirt, disheveled hair, and rage-red, sweat-glossed face were the picture of unhinged. My cock twitched in the confines of my jeans over it. He’d never looked more delectable.

He took a half-step backward as I sat up on the couch. He took another half a step as I swung my feet to the floor. When I made to stand up, he pivoted on the spot and stalked away. My laugh chased him as he descended the stairs in a hurry while tucking his shirt in. Perhaps big, bad Marco d’Ambrosio wasn't quite as unflappable as he’d have us all thinking. The hoots and hollers from my friends only added to the delight. That singular moment, there and gone, became my newest obsession in an instant. I'd get him to crack, one way or another. I'd crack him right open and leave him vulnerable.

I swiped the bottle of Macallan off the table and hoisted it toward my friends. To the winner went the spoils, and I had most definitely won that round. With cause to celebrate, I rejoined the tumultuous fray of my comrades with my grip firm around the neck of the bottle. If Marco wasn't willing to play tonight, surely one of my friends would be. I wasn't picky. As much as I wanted it to be the drop dead gorgeous older brother of my best friend hate-fucking me tonight, I'd settle for one of my friends in a pinch. I knew deep down, in that part of my depraved core that fed on the things no one talked about out loud, I'd eventually get what I wanted.

And I wanted to break Marco d’Ambrosio. One way or another, I'd break him. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the single greatest moment of my life.

Chapter Five

Marco

Icouldn't breathe. I couldn't fuckingbreathe. I hadn't had a panic attack this bad since prison. Almost, but never like this. Never so all-consuming and terrifying. Before I knew what I was doing, my feet had carried me down the stairs, through the crowded dance floor, and into a long hallway. I blinked to get my bearings and recoiled as the pungent aroma of urinal cakes and piss hit my nostrils. Eventually, the sign for the men’s room came into focus and I stumbled through the door and winced at the bright fluorescent lighting. Three more staggering steps brought me to the nearest sink as my chest continued to work overtime to draw breath into my lungs. I still couldn't breathe.