Low took a deep breath. He’d asked for this, right? Time to end this. All he had to do was remember Kenton. He opened the door, and strode inside the office. Renzo sat behind a desk.

Waiting for him.

Low scowled as the door closed behind him. “You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?”

“Low.” Renzo got up and moved toward him, standing a couple feet away. “Your boyfriend know you’re here?”

Jesus. What was it about him that had Low standing here, sweating? “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Low jerked a thumb behind him. “You made them think there was something between us!”

Renzo’s mouth curved and he stood in front of Low. He’d gotten rid of the suit jacket and the first few buttons on his shirt were undone, showing off the dark curly hair on his chest, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A wayward lock of hair hung over his right eye, partially obscuring it.

Everything about him was magnetic and dangerous, and he moved like a rogue wave on an abandoned beach, wiping away your foundation before you had a chance to prepare for the hit.

Right now his gaze devoured Low, making it hard for him not to squirm.

“There is something between us.” Renzo put his hands in his pockets. Low tried not to notice the way that action tugged his pants waist lower and rucked up his shirt. “You and I both know that.”

“No.” Low held up a hand when Renzo took a step forward, but that didn’t stop him from coming closer. “I have a boyfriend.” So yeah, he’d upgraded Chance. “I don’t want you.”

“Yes.” Renzo got in Low’s space, trapping Low between him and the locked door. “You have a boyfriend but here you are, sneaking off to see me. Why are you at my club? Are you here looking for love? Looking for a fuck?”

Low’s eyes widened and Renzo touched him, a slide of his knuckles down his cheek. That touch. He’d thought about. He’d fantasized about it. He’d grieved for the loss of it.

“Doesn’t matter which. I’m good for either one.”

Low jerked his head up and slid closer. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight the coil in his belly that pulled tighter with every word Renzo spoke, bringing them together until their bodies made contact, front to front.

Step away. He should step back. But Renzo kept him right there with his heat and the smell of him. Low leaned forward slowly, seeking more of it.

The heat.

The scent.

His lips brushed Renzo’s neck.

Renzo groaned. Low’s entire body clenched.

Have mercy. “Leave me the fuck alone,” Low whispered. But there was no force beyond that plea. Just empty words mocking him, because the truth was he wanted Renzo closer.

Renzo grabbed him by the arm and pushed him up against the mirror overlooking the main area of the club. They could see out, but no one could see them as they stood, Renzo at Low’s back, humping him, sliding his hardness all over Low’s ass. Slowly.

Fucking painfully slow.

“Watch him,” Renzo murmured at his ear. “Watch your boyfriend. Does he know he’s your second choice, Low?”

He shuddered, panting, but he still held his head high, squirming as he tried to get away from Renzo’s hold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Renzo laughed. “You know.” His tongue slid over the shell of Low’s ear.

Low’s breath hitched as he locked his knees to keep from falling. Renzo melted him. He destroyed Low and he remained in that grip, loving their destruction.

“Where does Chance think you are, Low? Men’s room? Outside getting some air? When you leave here, will you tell him where you were, I wonder?” Renzo nipped at his earlobe and Low gave him everything. Every shudder, every gasp. “You gonna tell him you were rubbing your ass all over my cock, Low?”

“No.” He moaned. God. Fuck. Low gave up his moans, too. “Please.”

“You gonna tell him you can’t stay away from me? That you only brought him here to make me jealous?”

“I don’t want you.” His voice was an embarrassingly thin thread of sound that wavered under the weight of Renzo’s touch, like a ribbon wrapped around a tree branch, fighting against a heavy wind.

“Doesn’t matter how much you tell yourself you hate me,” Renzo whispered. “You still close your eyes when Chance touches you and pretend it’s me.”

The stark truth in those words buried him. “No.”

Renzo ignored his weak protest. “Does he know what you like, huh?” He touched Low, one hand at his chest, lips at his ear. “Has he fucked you lately?”

“Renzo.”

“Yes.” Renzo moaned, too, the sound hitting Low in the balls. “The way you say my fucking name.” He pressed closer, rocking against Low. He clasped Low’s throat, tilting his head against his shoulder. “Good?” he asked, voice turned husky. “He fucks you good, Low? The way you want, the way you need?”

“I don’t…” Low choked, but he was moving with Renzo, on him, sliding up and down, riding the hard ridge of Renzo. Unable to stop. Just for a second. He’d forget himself just for however long it took for this hunger to work its way through him.

“Does he eat you out? Lick it up?” The hand around Low’s throat tightened. “Does he tell you you’re the best?”

Low sobbed for him, trembling, fingers clinging to the hand Renzo had splayed over his lower belly. Done, he was fucking done.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, Low, and I haven’t even fucked you yet. Let me get that.” He touched lower, cupping Low’s erection through his jeans and squeezing. “Let me tear it up while you call me Daddy. Let’s stay here, like this, you riding me till we both come.”

“No!” Low wrenched himself away, stumbling as he glared at Renzo as arousal crawled along his spine. “You killed my cousin.”

Renzo shrugged. “Did I?”

“I’m supposed to want you?” Low scoffed, erection still straining against his zipper. This had to be over.

“You’re not supposed to do anything,” Renzo said calmly. “But you do.” He stepped forward and Low backed up. Renzo quirked an eyebrow. “You want me so fucking bad, Low. I can taste it.” He made a show of licking his lips, and Low’s hungry gaze tracked the movement. “Dude waiting for you downstairs? He hasn’t been hitting it right, has he? He gives you that tame shit. I bet he’s all about making love to you.”

“Stop!” Low shouted. As Renzo stared at him, he sobered. “You know nothing about me. Nothing.” Couldn’t be true, though. Hadn’t he just brought Low to his fucking knees?

“I know you’re a freak, baby. And I know you want somebody to make you feel it.” Renzo winked. “I’m the man for the job.”

Low shook his head. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“How’s that gonna work?” Renzo asked softly. “How’s that gonna work with you wanting to be fucked properly and me right here, ready to body that ass? You gonna keep running from the dick forever?”

“Fuck. You.” Low yanked the door open and strode out without looking at Renzo.

“I’ll be here when you’ve had enough of that kid downstairs,” Renzo called as Low beat a hasty retreating.

He was always running from Renzo, wasn’t he?

He stopped once the door closed behind him, slumping against the wall in the quiet corridor. Gulping air into his lungs. Tonight he didn’t know who he was. Renzo remained in his nostrils. Low still felt him at his back, his hard cock riding the cleft of his ass. He was everywhere and nowhere, and Low ached to be there with him.

The door next to him opened abruptly, startling him.

He jumped, cursing silently when Renzo stepped out of the office, a bottle of champagne at his lips. He froze when his gaze landed on Low. Obviously, he hadn’t expected Low to be still be there.

Low shouldn’t still be there, but his legs were fucking useless now.

“Low.” Renzo lowered the bottle, stepping toward Low who threw up his hands.

“Don’t. Don’t.”

To his credit, Renzo stopped advancing. His beautiful haunted eyes stayed on Low’s face, assessing. “Why did you come tonight?” The raw quality of his voice couldn’t be classified as a caress, but Low still felt its journey, slow and sensual, down his spine.

He lifted his chin. “Chance wanted to come.”

“And you said yes?” Renzo lifted an eyebrow smoothly, gaze mocking.

This dude. “He likes it here.”

“What about you?”

He didn’t give a fuck about the club. They both knew that. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have come here.” He straightened. “I’m—I should go.”

Renzo moved then and Low found himself chest to chest with him again. Close enough for Low to smell him again. Whatever that cologne was he wore, Low’s mouth watered at the scent.

“No.”

He held himself perfectly still as Renzo bent and put down the champagne bottle down on the floor next to his feet.

“You came for a reason. You came to me for a reason.”

He bristled. “I didn’t come to you.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Renzo stepped in closer. “Don’t lie to me, Low. Just tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”

Why did Low believe that? How could he believe that? “I forget sometimes,” he whispered. “I forget who you are. I forget what you do.” His voice cracked and he licked his lips before continuing. “That’s why I came,” he imparted the words in a hushed tone. A dastardly secret between them. “I came to remind myself of all the things you’ve already taken. I came to prove to myself that you’ll never take any more.”

Renzo’s expression didn’t change, but Low felt the change in him. The anger that suddenly pulsed between the tiny space separating their bodies. “You’re right. I won’t be taking anything.” His right hand came up, hovering over Low’s face, his body heat blistering even without direct contact. “You’ll give it all to me, baby, and when that time comes I’ll fucking glut on it.”

Low shook his head on a snort. “You really are delusional, you know.” He stepped past Renzo, but a hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

He froze.

“There are a lot of things I’m wrong about,” Renzo whispered at Low’s right ear. “But not you. Never you.” The hint of champagne on his breath tripped Low’s pulse, threatening to send him floating on a contact high.

“Take your hands off me.” Low didn’t look at him, keeping his gaze locked on the opposite wall instead. He’d known coming here would be a mistake.

Renzo’s hand dropped away. Physically gone. But that grip? Low still felt it and he struggled not to touch that spot.

“You can run, but there’s no hiding, Low. Not from this. You know that.”

“Fuck you.” He should go. Why wasn’t he leaving?

“Just like you know you only get to run because I allow it.”

“Fuck. You.” Finally, finally, he found the strength to pull away from Renzo’s orbit, striding past him. He ignored the two bodyguards who’d escorted him up early, now waiting silently at the elevator bank.

“Low—”A hand circled his wrist, yanked him to a stop, and Low spun, wrenching away, slamming both hands into Renzo’s chest. Satisfaction sparked when the club owner stumbled backward.

“Don’t touch me.” Low shoved him backward again. “Don’t—”

Renzo grasped him by the throat, almost lifting Low off his feet as he slammed him into the wall next to the open elevator doors. Renzo followed him, his front mashed against Low’s as they connected.

Bodies.

Mouths.

How the fuck?

What the fuck?

All the times he’d longed for it, refusing to name it, and he wasn’t ready. Wasn’t prepared for Renzo’s lips on his. Softer than anything Low’s shocked mind could dredge up in comparison. He had no way to fortify himself before Renzo’s tongue slid between his lips, wrapping around his as they panted into each other’s mouth.

Champagne on ice.

All the times he’d wondered what Renzo Vega would taste like.

Champagne and wet aggression. Renzo had been right, too. Because Low parted for him, opening wide, head twisting as their noses bumped, hands grappling to hold on as they tore each other apart with teeth and tongue.

Low gave it all.

The knowledge would send him to his knees later. Right now, Renzo kept him upright with the force of his body and that grip, tighter than a vise. Pressing closer, moaning into Low’s mouth. A sound borne of hunger.

A hunger Low was all too familiar with. One he knew would never be satiated with just this kiss. Still, he brought his hands up, clutching Renzo’s head, fingers twisting in his hair to hold him in place as he indulged, grinding against Renzo.

He tore himself away, panting against Renzo’s lips. “Fuck!” What else was there to say? “Fuck!” Renzo smirked, and Low was back on him.

Tongue halfway down his throat.

Giving.

Taking.

Making memories that for sure would haunt him. But he’d welcome it, like he welcomed Renzo’s grip on his ass, lifting him to wrap his legs around Renzo’s waist. Like he welcomed Renzo’s taste on his tongue and his breath mingling with Low’s. Making them one, just for that moment.

Selfishly lost in surrender, Low moved on Renzo. On the erection pressed against him, shoving his own painfully hard cock into Renzo even as he rolled his hips. The slowest of fucking slow wines to prolong the exquisite sweetness.

Make it last longer than this.

Make it last.

Renzo slid a hand up his back and Low shuddered, head falling back, banging against the wall as lips moved across his jaw and down the column of his neck. Low opened his eyes, blinking fast.

Renzo’s men came into view, standing like sentries in the hallway, faces tilted away from the spectacle the two of them must make. His breath hitched and he dropped his hands, letting them hang limply at his sides.

Renzo tensed. He lifted his head and their eyes met. He took Low’s breath away. Stole it right from his lungs like the fucking thief he was. Looking so arrestingly beautiful with lust-heavy eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

Low’s marks on him.

What about his marks on Low?

Whatever he saw on Low’s face made Renzo slacken his hold. Low lowered his legs. Ouch. Felt as if he’d done a full session at the gym. Renzo moved away, but he didn’t go far, chest heaving as he watched Low.

“I won’t come back to your club.” The words sounded as if he’d been sucking back Newports his entire life, and they tasted like the remnants of Renzo. “This?” He motioned between them. “This? We done.”

“I wonder if I kiss you again if that lie would taste the same as the truth coming from your lips?”

Low stepped into the elevator, pretending Renzo wasn’t unraveling him. One word, one glance, one kiss at a time. “Goodbye, Renzo.”

Renzo’s nostrils flared. He leaned forward, slamming a hand between the doors to prevent the elevator from closing. “Fuck, baby, you speak my name the way you kissed me and I’m supposed to believe you won’t be back for more?”

Low ignored him. He could make excuses, voice words like boyfriend and betrayal, but the truth was he couldn’t break free from whatever Renzo had done to ensnare him.

“You kiss him like that?” Renzo asked. “The way you just used your tongue to wipe me down, you kiss your man like that?” When Low continued to ignore him, Renzo chuckled and snapped a finger. “Edgar, take him downstairs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edgar—the taller of the two guards with a diamond stud in his ear—joined Low in the elevator as Renzo dropped his hand and stepped back with a wink.

“See you later, Low.”