Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
ALESSIO
“I’m just a ghost.”
I’m sure it’s a coincidence. It has to be.
The odds that The Ghost climbed through my window by chance are just too slim in a city of millions.
And a vigilante set on taking out the Sleepless Reapers wouldn’t have any reason to fuck with the Morettis, or me specifically, on purpose either.
We’re certainly no friends of the Reapers, and no one would have any reason to think we are.
The soft leather of his gloved fingers brushes against the back of my neck again as we make our way down the dark streets from Wonderland to my apartment.
My ears are ringing from the jarring transition into the quiet night, and I can’t keep myself from glancing over at him every few seconds, just to make sure he’s still there.
On the subject of coincidences, what are the chances that the first night I’ve stopped into Wonderland in months, he just happens to be there?
Not just be there, but notice me? A prickle of suspicion lodges itself in my brain.
Not enough for me to rethink the plan to take Spettro home with me and let him take me apart one rough touch at a time, but enough that I’m going to keep my guard up with him until I know what his story is.
“I didn’t think I’d run into you again,” I confess.
His fingers tighten a fraction on the back of my neck, just a light squeeze of gentle control and acknowledgment before he lets out one of those low, almost-a-laugh sounds.
“Were you hoping to, Alessio?”
Fuck, how does he make my name sound like the filthiest word anyone has ever uttered? Like he’s tongue fucking it as it rolls off his lips. My cock has been hard since the second he gripped the back of my neck at the bar, and it gives a needy throb in my silky briefs.
My first instinct is to lie, to pretend that what happened the other night hasn’t been playing on a constant loop in my mind ever since. I shouldn’t want him to know that I’m utterly fucking obsessed with him.
“Yes.” I tell the truth instead, and he makes a deep, satisfied noise in the back of his throat.
“I’m at Wonderland a lot,” he says. “It’s not so crazy that we’d bump into each other. Every horny criminal and lowlife in Wildcliff falls down the rabbit hole from time to time, don’t they?”
I chuckle. “I guess that’s fair. Except most of the people you’ve robbed wouldn’t recognize you.”
It’s a statement but it sounds more like a question, maybe because I’m fishing. I want to know if he makes a habit of breaking into apartments and putting the slutty, cock-starved residents on their knees.
“If you’re asking if I get caught and unmasked often, the answer is no. First time, actually.” He squeezes my neck again, guiding me around a corner onto a well-lit street.
Stepping from a shadowy street where half the buildings are tagged with graffiti and the other half are boarded up onto one with glowing streetlamps and brownstones with garden boxes between each set of concrete steps is just as jarring as stepping out of the club was.
“I’m honored,” I tease, glancing over at him again.
With the brighter lights, I’m able to take in his whole face again, from his dark, haunted eyes to the stubble on his jaw that I nearly let myself reach for when he was standing close to me at Wonderland.
Something about him screams that I shouldn’t touch without asking though, like a junkyard dog that isn’t exactly baring its teeth, but you can tell it won’t hesitate to bite if you’re stupid enough to get too close.
“The gloves, the backpack—you seem like a pro. I’m guessing you break into a lot of penthouses.”
He full-on chuckles this time, and the sound makes my stomach swoop with a kind of intoxicated excitement.
“Basement apartments would be a hell of a lot easier, but the people who live in them don’t tend to have Rolexes and diamond cufflinks,” he deadpans.
I’ll take that as a yes, which opens up a thousand more questions I’m dying to ask about who he is and how he ended up in my apartment to begin with.
Why doesn’t he have a name? How long has he lived in Wildcliff?
I don’t want to pry too much and risk him changing his mind before we even get back to my place though.
“You sell my gun?” I ask instead.
“Yup,” he says gruffly.
“Damn, that one was my favorite. It handled like a fucking dream.”
“I pawned it at Big Ray’s on twelfth. You might still be able to get it back if you head over there tomorrow,” he offers, and I feel him tense for just a second.
“You’d be doing me a big favor if you didn’t mention that I stole it from you though.
If Ray thought I was robbing Morettis, I doubt he’d buy anything else from me. ”
“Buy my own pistol back and don’t rat you out?” I arch an eyebrow at him before I stop to key in the passcode for the main lobby door to my building. “You’d better make it worth my while.”
His grip on my neck loosens and he drags his hand down my back, his fingers dancing along the slope of my spine until he reaches my ass and grabs it roughly. The hot puff of his breath against my ear makes my cock throb again and my stomach tighten with anticipation.
“Challenge accepted,” he purrs, then he gives me a small shove through the open door.
My building isn’t half as nice as Lorenzo’s or Elio’s, but there’s security in the lobby to keep the riff raff out…
unless they climb the fire escape, apparently.
I nod to the security guard, Gabriel, and he glances at Spettro, then back to me with a polite smile.
Is he trying to remember the last time I brought anyone home?
I could save him the trouble, the answer is never.
When I do get laid, it’s never here. I don’t need anyone knowing where I live.
We step into the elevator and the doors close behind us.
Trapped in the small space with him, I can smell the leather of his gloves and jacket, along with a spicy scent that must be his cologne or bodywash.
My heart thunders with the thrill of knowing I don’t have to be the one in control and the excitement of not being able to predict exactly what will happen next.
Will he kiss me? Fuck me? Tie me up and breed my throat like he did last time?
Will he leave right after and make me haunt Wonderland until I run into him again?
There’s a predatory glint in his eyes and he holds himself perfectly still as the elevator climbs higher and higher, doing a damn good job of making me think that Salvatore’s elevator isn’t the slowest one in the city after all.
An impatient tremor works its way through my body and throbs in my cock.
“Why do you look so nervous, slut?” Spettro asks with a quirk of his lips.
“Just dying to know what you plan to do with me,” I rasp.
The doors slide open right as the last word leaves my mouth, and his smirk widens.
He grabs the front of my shirt with a playful roughness that makes me gasp, and drags me out of the elevator, holding himself just close enough to me that every damn cell in my body aches to be closer.
My door is the only one on this floor, so I don’t have to give him any directions as he walks me backward towards it without breaking eye contact.
“What do you want me to do to you?” he asks.
Every nerve ending, every inch of my skin is already tingling, begging for his touch.
My cock drools eagerly, slicking my silk briefs with a steady stream of precum, and hearing that question in that deep, authoritative voice of his makes my knees quiver with the urge to kneel right here in the hallway.
“Anything you want,” I say without hesitation.
A flare of heat flickers in his expression and he drags his tongue along his bottom lip like he’s planning to devour me. He stops walking, but I can’t tear my attention away from him, completely lost in the hungry, dominant, fucking hypnotic look in his eyes.
“Open the door, Alessio,” he commands in a low voice.
“Yes, Sir.”
I swallow hard and reach into my pocket to fish out my keys, not taking my eyes off of him until I have to.
My hands tremble—not out of any kind of fear, but excitement and adrenaline.
I want him to take me apart. I want him to make me beg.
I want to be whatever I need to be to make him crave me the way I can’t stop craving him.
If he leaves again without giving me a way to find him, I’ll burn this entire fucking city to the ground in search of him, and I don’t give a damn if that’s too “obsessive” for anyone else.
We step inside and I flip on the light, then turn to him, ready to stop thinking, to stop fucking worrying about anything for the rest of the night other than being the slut he wants me to be.
“Do me a favor and go brush your teeth.” That wasn’t the first demand I was expecting, and his tone is much gentler than it was before.
“You don’t have to be so polite.” I laugh.
Spettro grabs the front of my shirt again and backs me up against the wall, bracing one hand next to my head while he fists the fabric of my T-shirt with the other. He brings his nose close to mine, his lips only an inch away.
“Why don’t you let me worry about what tone I’ll use with you and when,” he growls, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’s going to kiss me.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. “Don’t worry, I can be polite every once in a while and still fuck you like I hate you, Alessio.
” He nips at my bottom lip, and a moan rolls off my tongue.
“Now, go brush your fucking teeth. Don’t make me ask you again. ”
“Yes, Sir.”
GHOST
Alessio practically sprints down the hallway as soon as I let him go.
I’m tempted to call after him and tell him to get undressed and bring supplies while he’s at it, but there’s a certain appeal in making him run back and forth, so I keep my mouth shut, smirking to myself as I make my way into his living room with my boots and leather jacket still on.