Four months into their working relationship, and my lover and my best friend were thick as thieves. Theo came over nearly every day and hung out with us when he and Gio weren’t out working. I had only a vague impression of what the two of them did when they were gone. Meeting with people, conducting business transactions of some sort… I was a hundred percent sure that what they did wasn’t legal. I’d already known from my limited dealings with Gio’s business associates—Z, Teddy, and Frank—that this business I’d landed smack dab in the middle of was not the type of thing you’d admit to in Sunday school.

Not to mention Gio often carried a gun, and I hadn’t patted Theo down, but I was pretty sure he had taken to carrying one, too.

For my part, I kept my mouth shut. I got the distinct impression that Gio wanted to keep me separate from his professional life, though I wasn’t sure if it was because he was ashamed or because he didn’t think I could handle it. I doubted it was shame because Gio wasn’t the type to make apologies for his choices, so that only left the other. I didn’t mind. He knew me better than I knew myself, and if he thought I needed to know something, he would tell me.

At one point in the beginning of our relationship, I’d thought he was going to bring me into the fold. Having me come in and take notes on a business meeting between him, Z, Teddy, and Frank had seemed like a first step, but I quickly realized it had been nothing more than an icebreaker for the other guys’ benefits. A way of saying, This is my new assistant, and I trust him.

Theo actually shared more with me than Gio did, but only on the rare occasions when we were alone. Like the day Gio left us watching TV and went downstairs to discuss something with Z.

“Where did you and Gio go last night?” I asked when Saved by the Bell broke for commercial. “I was already in bed when he got home.”

Theo shrugged, not meeting my gaze. “Sometimes we gotta work late. It’s not like this is a nine-to-five type of job.”

I laughed. “That wasn’t vague at all.”

Theo picked at a thread that had come loose at the seam of his dress slacks. “Gio has already read me the riot act on telling you shit. He doesn’t like for you to know details about what we do.”

“Does he not trust me?”

“It’s not that, and you know it. He just—” Theo wiggled nervously in his seat. “He treats you like a little prince, you know? Like you’re too good to be tarnished by the bullshit we get up to. He would beat my fucking ass if I went running my mouth to you, and I don’t know why you want to know, anyway.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the apartment. “If I could have all this without having to do anything but be the boyfriend, I’d be sucking Gio’s dick night and day.”

I frowned and punched Theo hard in the shoulder. “Dude, get your mind off my man’s dick.”

Theo scoffed. “I don’t wanna suck it. I’m just saying you’ve definitely got the sweet setup here. You should chill out and enjoy what you’ve got.”

“A few months ago, you were practically accusing me of being a whore.”

Theo grinned. “Well, you are, kinda. But you’re a fucking well-paid whore. I say enjoy it while it lasts.”

“While it lasts?” The statement actually made my heart rate speed up, and not in a good way.

“Yeah, while it lasts. Nothing is forever, Pete.” He picked at the thread on his slacks again. “I mean, you and me…we’re forever. But all this other shit could go poof at any second.”

That hurt. It also underscored the difference between how I felt about Theo and how he felt about me. In my mind, Gio and I were the forever, and Theo could go poof at any second. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. He obviously valued me as a friend above all else, and it was flattering, but it also made me beholden in a way. To spare his feelings, I allowed him to have his little fantasy, but I did set him straight on one point.

“Gio and I are forever, too. I’ll never love anyone like I love him.”

Theo’s expression soured. “He’s too old for you. He’s gonna die one day, and then where will you be?”

My heart flopped sickeningly in my chest. “Don’t be morbid. He’s not that much older.”

“The fuck he isn’t,” Theo grated. “I mean don’t get me wrong, Gio is a badass and a half. I’ve never met anyone so intimidating in my life, and I’ve met some thugs in my day. This cat is on a whole other level. But he’s gonna break your heart, Pete. That’s a fact.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How is he gonna break my heart? Do you know something I don’t?”

A humorless laugh burst out of Theo. “Jesus Christ, kid. I spend all day at the man’s beck and call, while you get to cuddle and fuck and make goo-goo eyes at each other over candlelit dinners. You get Saint Gio; I get Gio “Iceman” Rivera. So, yeah. I know a fucking lot you don’t know.”

I gulped. “Iceman?”

“Yeah, that’s what I call him. Like on the movie Top Gun. He hates it.”

“Why do you call him that?”

“Because the man never smiles, and he’s cool as a cucumber no matter what happens. I don’t know what it would take to shake him, and to be honest, I don’t ever want to find out.”

I felt the need to defend Gio’s honor, especially while he wasn’t around to do it himself. He wasn’t the cold-hearted bastard that Theo was making him out to be. He was kind and compassionate, and deeper than anyone I had ever met. His soul may have been hidden well beneath the surface of his skin, but to me, it was fathomless and contained all the wonders of the world.

“He smiles,” I said in a pitiful attempt to redeem his image.

“Yeah, when he’s with you. That’s all you know, though. You don’t see him in his element, when he’s fucking around with all these shady cats he does business with. And when—”

Whatever Theo was going to say was lost to the sound of the door opening and Gio’s smooth, deep voice. “Peter, get ready. I’m taking you out.”

Theo and I both stared up at him with huge, guilty eyes, and of course he didn’t miss it. He never missed anything.

“I get the feeling someone has been running his mouth.” His eyes were trained directly on Theo.

“No, sir,” Theo lied. “Pete was just trying to convince me that you were sweet, so I had to set him straight.”

“Sweet,” Gio snorted. “I don’t know about all that, but you shouldn’t be trying to destroy his illusions. If he likes to think of me as sweet, what’s the harm in that?” As if to illustrate, he leaned down and kissed me, bypassing chaste and going straight to raunchy. He slanted his mouth over mine and forced his tongue between my lips. My arms went around his neck, and I pulled him closer, deepening the contact and chasing that drugging effect his kisses always had on me.

Theo cleared his throat. “You guys are embarrassing.”

Gio pulled away from me and glared. “Why don’t you leave, then? Peter has to get dressed, anyway. They have a dress code at Luigi’s, and it doesn’t include shorts and bare feet.”

I flew up off the sofa like I suddenly had wings. “Luigi’s? Can I get the goat cheese ravioli and a double order of calamari?” I had come a long way from chili dogs since I’d met Gio.

“Of course, sweet pea. You know you can order anything you want.”

I danced off to the bedroom, but not before I caught Theo’s exaggerated eye roll. “You treat him like a child.”

“Well, he didn’t have much of a childhood, did he? If I want to indulge him, that’s my business. Your business is doing what I tell you to do, and right now I’m telling you to leave.”

“Fine,” Theo huffed.

I closed the bedroom door, muffling their exchange, but I did hear the distinct thud of the front door closing. Then Gio came into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. He leaned back onto the pillow and stretched his legs out, crossing his feet at the ankles. He had toed his dress shoes off at the door, but he still wore his black socks, and he alternately curled and stretched his toes within them as he watched me retrieve a suit out of the closet and drape it over one of several chairs in the room. The heat in his eyes as he tracked my movements made it almost impossible to concentrate on what I was doing, and I realized belatedly that I’d forgotten to grab my shoes.

When I went back into the closet and bent to get my favorite pair of wingtips, I caught sight of the large black box I had shoved into the corner days before. I’d been waiting for the right time to give it to Gio, and our first night out in what seemed like ages was perfect.

I pulled the box out of its hiding place and brought it out, my belly doing somersaults as I worried that he wouldn’t like the gift.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Ummm… I got you a present.”

His eyes widened. “A present for me?” He seemed genuinely taken aback that I would buy him a gift, and I supposed I couldn’t blame him since he was always the one doting on me.

“Yes, I—” Doubt flooded me, and with every instinct telling me to Abort! Abort! I turned back toward the closet. “Ummm… Never mind. You probably won’t like it. It was a dumb idea.”

“Peter.” Gio’s stern voice had the instant effect of halting me in mid-step. “Bring me my gift. You can’t take it back now.”

I sighed, shoulders sagging, and approached him with the box tucked under my arm. He reached out to take it from me and had to pry it from my death grip.

He untied the gold ribbon that encircled the box and removed the lid, and my heart nearly stopped as he unfolded the gold tissue paper and stared down into the box. He didn’t speak for a moment, and all I could think was what a stupid thing I had done. The gift was absurd and so out of character for Gio. What had I been thinking?

He looked up at me, his expression unreadable, before reaching in carefully and bringing out the black hat I had bought him.

“I noticed your dad was wearing a hat in the pictures you showed me of your family,” I said, rushing to explain my logic, which now seemed faulty. Gio had never worn a hat, so why did I think he would want to wear one now? When he’d shown me the photos of his family, I’d gotten the impression that he revered his father and was shaken by his passing several years before, but that didn’t mean he wanted to emulate the man’s style.

Gio turned the fedora in his hands, inspecting the fine craftsmanship. The black fur felt, the wide brim, the black band that encircled it. He was quiet for a long time, leaving me to form my own dire conclusions. Did he hate it? Did he think I was an idiot for buying it? The waiting for a reaction was excruciating.

When he finally spoke, his words were strained with emotion. “This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received, Peter. I don’t know what to say except thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

I shuffled closer. “So does that mean you like it?”

He dragged his gaze away from the hat in his hands to stare up at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I love it. How did you—”

“I got your tailor to order it for me. I didn’t know what kind of hat it was, and I didn’t want to take the pictures out of the apartment, so I had Bill come over while you were gone. He special ordered it from Christys’ in London.”

Gio set the box aside on the bed and went into the bathroom. I watched from afar as he fitted the hat on his head and inspected his reflection in the mirror, angling the hat this way and that until he got it like he wanted it. Then a smile crept onto his face. “I look like my father,” he said, his voice so quiet I barely made out the words.

“You do,” I agreed. “I could tell you loved him very much, and I wanted to get you something that would remind you of him.”

He left the bathroom and strode toward me, the small smile he’d aimed at the mirror reaching full power just as he got to me. “It does, and I love you for it.” He took me into his arms and squeezed me to his chest until I thought I would break.

“You do so much for me, and I wanted to give you something in return to show you how much I appreciate everything.” I blushed against his chest. “Plus, I just love you so much.”

He pushed me away until he could fit his mouth over mine in a heartfelt kiss.

“So what do you think?” he asked, finally breaking the kiss and stepping back. He grabbed onto the top of the hat and struck a rakish pose, raising one eyebrow and giving what could only be described as a smoldering look. It made my knees weak.

“I think you look like a Hollywood movie gangster.”

He raised his eyebrow even higher. “But not a real gangster?”

“Well, I don’t know if real gangsters are as good-looking as you.”

“Hmmm…” He moved closer, shrugging smoothly out of his suit jacket and letting it slide down his arms. His gun was strapped to his side in a tan leather shoulder holster, and I was glad he’d chosen that one. It was sexier than the one he wore inside his waistband. “How about now, sweet pea? Do I look like a real gangster now?”

I was shocked because he normally tried to downplay any sort of references to crime or to what he did for a living, but on this particular night, he seemed to be using it to turn me on.

It was working.

“Yes,” I said. “Very real. You look hot. And… scary.”

He reached out and snatched me up against him. “Scary, huh? Why is that? Are you afraid of what I might do to you?”

I gulped and nodded slowly, looking up at him with wide eyes. In that hat, and with the gun strapped over his white dress shirt, he looked like a different person—one who might not treat me with the same gentle care that my Gio did. His fingertips dug into my forearm as he pulled it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive underside of my wrist.

An involuntary sigh escaped my parted lips, and his eyes widened, the black of his pupils reducing the ice blue around them to a thin ring of color. With his free hand, he reached around and grabbed onto a handful of ass and hoisted me one-armed up his body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, heart beating frantically. I could feel the insistent press of his cock through his pants, nudging at the tender space just behind my balls.

He looked up at me, and I brought my mouth down on his, tentatively at first. But he mastered me even from his lower vantage point, sucking my lips into his mouth like they were his to devour. And they were. Everything I had was his to take, and the way he handled me said he was well aware of that fact. He used his grip on my ass to work me incrementally up and down, stroking his cock with my body until I thought I would die with the need to have that steely length inside me.

“Do you want to know what it feels like to be fucked by a gangster? To be owned by someone dangerous?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “God…yes. Please.”

He walked me over to the bed and dropped me so roughly onto the mattress my teeth clacked together. My head fell back, and I stared up at him, my limbs going all soft and useless with the tingling rush of need coursing through me.

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered. “Show daddy what’s mine.”

My stomach flipped, and I nearly moaned out my pleasure at his words. Coaxing my body into action, I shucked my t-shirt first, followed by my shorts and underwear.

He picked up the discarded red Calvins from the bedspread and pressed them to his face, breathing in before tossing them onto the floor. “I love your scent,” he growled. “It drives me mad.”

I blushed as I lay naked and exposed to him. No answering words would come. I was mute with anticipation.

Gio was intimidating like this, fully dressed in his gangster wear, gun strapped to his side, and eyes full of nothing but me and the desire to have me. It occurred to me that I was completely at his mercy in every way. He wasn’t just spouting sexy words when he said I belonged to him. I was his, body and soul. Bought and paid for with money and with love.

He removed the hat from his head, kissed it, and set it on the bed. Then he unbuckled his shoulder holster and discarded it onto the bed beside the hat. I got the distinct impression he was leaving the articles in plain sight to remind me that even when he was naked and fucking me, he was still a gangster. But the illusion wasn’t really an illusion at all, no matter how many jokes we made about Hollywood gangsters. Whether we acknowledged it aloud or not, Gio was the real deal, and that fact alone was enough to make my dick stiffen.

He stood above me, raven-haired and crystal-eyed, with merciless determination to have me etched on his perfect features. He was a picture of dark perfection. The spread of meticulously groomed stubble at his jaw, the tawny skin of his throat, the masculine jut of his Adam’s apple, the dusting of black hair on long, tanned fingers as they deftly worked the buttons of his dress shirt free.

I was so lost. From the moment my father had dragged me into this apartment, I’d never stood a chance. Gio had wanted me, and he’d taken me. Now I was his, and he was mine to worship for all of eternity. I doubted even death could diminish the consuming need to belong to him, and the obsession that laid waste to everything that had once existed on the periphery of him.

He was my everything, and without him, I would cease to be.

As if he could sense the depth of my thoughts, Gio chuckled, naked now even though I hadn’t noticed him removing his pants. “Where did you go, sweet pea? Your eyes are a million miles away.”

“I was just thinking about how much I love you. About how I would die if you ever left me.” I was being more honest than usual, laying it all on the line because I had nothing to lose but him.

His expression hardened, brow creasing. “Why would you ever think such a thing? I’m not going anywhere. You’re my baby.”

“Theo said you would break my heart. He said he sees a side of you that I don’t.”

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“It’s true,” I pressed on, letting the doubts run free now that the door had been cracked open. “I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me. You keep me locked away here, and you come and go as you please. You have an entire life that doesn’t include me. For all I know, you’re out fucking other guys. You could have an entire stable of lovers, and I would never even have a clue. Hell, you could have a dozen apartments, with a poor clueless boy like me in each one just waiting like a desperate little puppy for his master to come home and pet him.”

Oh, God. What was I saying? Were these really the thoughts that were in my mind?

Apparently so, because here they were spilling out all over Gio like some vile sludge of jealousy.

Gio literally growled, his expression murderous. “Theo needs to keep his fucking mouth shut before he finds himself in the unemployment line.”

“Don’t fire him because of me,” I cried in alarm. “He didn’t say all that stuff about other guys. All he said was that you would break my heart and that I didn’t know the side of you that he sees. He just thought he was being realistic.”

“Realistic.” He huffed. “The reality is that Theo only sees what I want him to see. He works for me, Peter. He’s nothing to me but a tool to use, but you... You’re everything to me.”

He climbed onto the bed between my legs, spreading my thighs wide and pushing them up toward my chest. He’d gotten the tube of lubrication while I’d been dazed and thoughtful, and now he slathered it onto my hole without preamble, pushing it into me with sure fingers.

I clenched around the sudden intrusion, stinging from the stretch but aching for more.

“Do you feel my love?” he asked. “Do you believe what I tell you is real? That I will love and care for you as long as there is breath in my body?”

I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. Because even though I could be temporarily swayed by paranoia, my heart knew the truth. I felt guilty for even voicing the doubts that Theo had tried to put in my head. He just didn’t understand—couldn’t possibly understand—because he had never felt anything like what Gio and I had. As unworldly and egocentric as I was, I could almost believe that no one had.

“I’m sorry,” I said, consumed by shame. “I never should have listened to Theo. Never should have doubted you.”

“Shhh…” Gio bent over me and ran a hand through my hair. “There’s no need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But I have.” I turned my face away from him, the tears coursing freely now. “You give me everything in the world, Gio. You’ve never once said a harsh word to me, you’ve gone out of your way to make sure I know I’m wanted and loved, and this is how I repay you? With doubt and accusations of cheating on me?” I squeezed my eyes shut and sobbed. “I don’t deserve you.”

Gio rolled off of me and sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Where is this coming from? One minute we’re playing Peter Gets Fucked by a Gangster, and the next you’re crying and saying you don’t deserve me.”

I recognized his attempt at humor to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. I felt miserable. I was also horny as hell, but miserable just the same. I didn’t know how to make things right—how to get rid of the guilt that was choking me. I knew guilt. It had been my near-constant companion for as long as I could remember, and in my experience, there was only one way to eradicate it.

My father’s words echoed in my mind. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. Yet another snippet of a Bible verse, lopped out of the whole and perverted to suit his needs. But it rang true for me because it’s how I was raised.

I hated myself for being that way. For needing something I shouldn’t need. Just another cause for guilt.

“What can I do to prove it to you?” Gio asked at last. “What do you need that I haven’t been giving you?”

I couldn’t possibly answer that question. Not with words. Instead, I crawled off of the bed and bent over the side of it, presenting my bare ass like I had done countless times in the past. Only this time there was no fear. No anger. No desperation coiled in the pit of my belly.

I rested my cheek on the bed, face turned toward Gio, and held his gaze. I was making an offering. A way to even the score and set things right again.

I saw the moment realization hit him. His face went dark and stormy, eyebrows crashing down and mouth flattening into a grim line. He glanced down at my ass, then back up to my eyes, and shook his head. “You can’t ask me to do that, Peter. I would give you anything you asked for, but the thought of hurting you makes me sick to my stomach.”

At that point, all of my reasoning was out the window, and I wasn’t even sure why I was pushing. It was sick, wasn’t it? But I was single-minded with the unholy need, and now that it had been unleashed, and there was no calling it back.

“It won’t hurt if you do it,” I argued. But when there was no change on his face to indicate I was swaying him, I decided to play dirty. I bit my lip and wiggled my ass. “Come on, daddy. I’ve been a really bad boy.”

“Oh, God.” Gio closed his eyes and sucked a noisy breath in through his nose before letting it out through his mouth. “What if you hate me for it?” he asked, his voice a quiet plea.

“I could never hate you. I just need you to punish the bad thoughts out of my head, Gio. If I’m wrong, then make me believe.”

And with that statement, I’d finally hit on the heart of my need. It wasn’t only about punishment; it was also about proof. If my doubts were unfounded, then I ought to feel shame, and I deserved to be punished. But Gio wasn’t the type of man who would punish me if I was right. If I was wrong, he would beat my ass if that’s what it took to prove himself to me. And if he refused… Well, then I would know.

Gio glanced at my ass, then back at my face, and I could see his resolve cracking. Even more telling was the fact that his dick was still hard.

Emboldened by that little triumph, I pushed my ass back and begged. “Please, daddy. Show me how wrong I am.”

Gio sprang up from the bed, apparently sensing what was at stake in our little game. All apprehension faded from his expression, and he was my Gio again. Self-assured and determined to set me straight.

He flattened himself over my back and ground his erection against the crack of my ass as he growled against my ear. “If I hurt you, you tell me to stop, goddammit. Do you understand?”

I nodded, swallowing a lump of fear and anticipation.

He pushed up off of me and rubbed his palm over one ass cheek. A gentle warning. I tensed and held my breath, waiting.

The first blow was tentative as if he was testing his strength.

“Mmm…harder,” I breathed, pushing back for more.

He rubbed the other cheek before slapping it with more force than he had the first.

I gasped. “Yeah. More.”

He switched to the other cheek, first rubbing then slapping, putting more of his body into it this time. The sting was divine, and I grunted in response.

The next blow was hard, as was the one that followed. I felt the shock reverberate through my balls and through my dick, and I scrubbed my straining erection along the bedspread for friction. A couple more hard strikes and I was moaning like an animal in heat.

Gio rubbed his palm over the tender flesh, reawakening the sting, and then he pushed his cock along the channel of my ass. “Is that good, baby?”

I nodded with a helpless squeak.

And then he struck me again, four blows in quick succession. And as I writhed in sweet agony on the bed, he flattened his body over mine and said through clenched teeth, “Don’t you ever fucking doubt my devotion again. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” I said.

He pushed roughly against me, the head of his cock nudging my hole. “Yes, what?”

“Y—yes, daddy,” I stammered, mindless and aching.

“That’s right,” he said, pushing up off of me once more and raining down a series of hard blows that sent me into a frenzy. I was mewling now, and my dick was weeping, soaking the covers beneath in precum.

And then Gio spread my aching cheeks and slammed his cock into my already-lubed ass with such force I cried out. “Oh, God yes, Gio. Oh… fuck.”

I had never been so turned on in my life. A shudder rippled through my body as he pulled almost completely out of me and pushed back in, balls slapping against mine and sending a jolt of pure pleasure into my groin.

Gio pulled out again and ran his palm over my abused flesh. “Your ass is on fire, baby.” He slapped it again before slamming his dick back into me.

“Ohhh…” I moaned, my voice guttering into a lower register as the pain sharp pain radiated outward and dissipated into a rhythmic throbbing.

“What have you done to me?” Gio panted. “I never wanted to hurt you, but seeing you this way… so needy and… God, I’m so hard, baby. So close. I need to fill you up.”

He dropped over me one last time, bracing with his forearms on either side of me, and I knew this was it. His sweat slicked my back, the scrub of his dampened chest hair yet one more facet of the delicious torture of my senses. Every nerve ending in my being was awake now, and Gio was master of them all.

His dick pulsed hard within the channel of my ass, a signal of his impending release, and then he was clinging to me. Lips pressed against the back of my head, shouting a string of barely coherent things. Dirty things. Loving things. And he unloaded all of his passion inside of me in wave after hot wave.

I writhed beneath him, pressed into the bed with by the weight of him, as every bit of tangled up lust and pain and humiliation spilled out of my untouched dick and onto the covers. My ass spasmed and quaked around him, muscles intent on wringing out every last drop.

And then we were still, both panting heavily into the silent room.

After a time, when his dick had softened and left me bereft, Gio rolled off of me and onto his side. He carded his fingers through my damp hair and sighed. Then his hand dropped to my sore ass, palm skating gently over the flesh.

I winced, and Gio’s hand stilled.

“I don’t want to be a monster,” he said, voice broken.

I thought of my father. Of the cruelty in his eyes and the unbearable crack of his belt against my ass. Of the hateful words and twisted aberrations of Bible verses that spewed from his liquor-scented lips. Was he a monster? I thought perhaps he was, but he never would have imagined himself one. He was also nothing like Gio, who even after all of the kindness he had bestowed upon me, and even knowing I wanted his discipline, still questioned himself.

“What makes a man a monster?” I asked, staring into his haunted eyes.

He rolled onto his back and lay in silence for long moments, his chest rising and falling steadily as he thought. Just when I suspected he would never answer my question, he turned back onto his side and found my gaze again.

“I believe a man becomes a monster when he loses the ability to feel compassion for others. When he ceases to feel the pain of those he hurts, he’s no better than an animal. Compassion is the thing that separates monsters from men. And you, sweet pea, are my compassion.” He dropped a kiss onto my hair and sighed. “You are my love.”