3. Lynx #3
“Fuck, my bike is over there.” I stared directly at it as they cut off my escape.
“My truck too.” Luca swore softly. “I’m really not in the mood for getting arrested tonight. You?”
I sighed. “I’m on parole. So absolutely not. Guess we’re running on foot.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” Without saying anything else, he spun on his heel and took off for the alleyway that ran down the side of the old gym.
Without even thinking about it, I followed. Where the hell else was I going to go? I wasn’t going to stick around and wait to have a chat with the po-po about what I was doing here where illegal fights and gambling were taking place.
I clutched my shirt in my fist and ran, keeping tight behind Luca.
So fucking tight that when he came to an abrupt stop at a back entrance to the gym, I slammed straight into him.
Though the sprint had been short, he breathed hard, my bare chest pressed to his back while he flipped down one of those key boxes with the codes.
There was little in the way of lighting, but the moon was bright enough that I was sure the cops were going to notice us at any moment and storm down here.
“Please tell me you know the fucking code to that thing and we aren’t just standing here hoping to get lucky? You know the odds of guessing a four-digit code correctly are one in ten thousand.” I eyed the cops swarming out of their cars, guns on their hips or already clutched in their fingers.
“You a math guy?” Luca asked.
“Only math I’m doing right now is how many years I’m gonna get back in jail if I get caught.”
Luca chuckled, cool as a fucking cucumber. “Don’t stress. I know it. I’m just taking my time ’cause I like the way you feel against me.”
My dick kicked in response.
And fuck me, I found myself pushing into him even more, so he could feel the way my body had instantly responded to his. If I was being honest, I liked the danger of the situation just as much as I liked the way he looked.
I’d always been attracted to trouble.
“Hurry up and get the door open,” I murmured, my lips brushing his ear.
I didn’t mean for it to come out a husky rasp of a demand that sounded more like I wanted him to open it so I could get inside and fuck him hard, rather than because I was on parole and couldn’t get caught.
But when the door fell open and the two of us stumbled through it, I barely had a chance to kick it closed before I had him pressed to the wall.
His lips came down on mine in the darkness of a closed-down gym. It smelled of stale sweat with a tinge of mold, but we could have been in a mound of dogshit and I still would have wanted him.
He kissed like he’d done this a million times before, sure and confident, with a need that matched mine. There was a demanding fuck-you attitude about him that I didn’t understand but didn’t need to for what I wanted from him.
We’d barely said more than a handful of sentences to each other, but I ripped up his hoodie, fingers greedy and running over his skin, taking his clothes off so we were chest to chest.
He grabbed my head, pulling me closer, kissing me again.
My hand found the zipper on his jeans and got them open. I delved inside, rubbing over his dick and balls, stroking him until he was just as fucking hard as I was.
I dragged his underwear down his legs, registering the tight, muscled thighs that probably came with the dirty work boots. A laborer’s body, well used every day.
I wanted to use it at night. Get off on it. Get him off too, ’cause I wasn’t a fucking prick. I could give as good as I got. But I wanted him on his knees first.
I didn’t even need to say it. He dropped down before I could, and I groaned in anticipation of having his hot mouth wrapped around my cock.
I needed this. Needed something quick and fast and hot with a man I was never going to see again.
The overhead light came on, and the voice of an older person floated back from the room that faced that street. “Yes, Officer. I was just here in my office working late on my accounting.”
Luca froze, his mouth a mere inch from my erection, hard as fucking steel in front of him.
I stared down at him and whispered in panic, “Who the fuck is that?”
“Gino. The owner. And the cops, by the sound of it.”
“Is there anyone else in this building with you tonight, sir?” the police asked.
“Fuck!” I hissed, trying to shove my cock back in my pants. Great, now I was going to get arrested for indecent acts in public places on top of everything else.
Luca got up off his knees and stuck his head around the doorway. “Just me and a friend, Gino. We were…just finishing up, but if the cops need us to clear the area, we can.”
My dick fucking ached, but I stood and looked over Luca’s shoulder. I held up my shirt limply. “We’re just getting dressed and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
The old man had a knowing expression on his face. “You had a good workout then, boys?”
I wanted to cry with the fact we’d been so close to “working out” but hadn’t actually gotten there at all.
Yet another reason to hate birthdays.
They were always so unsatisfying.