Sleight of Hand by Charlie Cochet

Five

He could do this.

“I mean, how hard can it be, right?” Joker glanced down at Chip, who stared up at him. Chip tipped his head to one side and whined. “Fuck it. Let’s do this.” Pressing the button, Joker waited.

And waited.

And… waited.

Hm.

“What the fuck’s wrong with it? It’s on.” He pointed to the little red light. “See. It’s on.”

Chip looked from him to the machine and back, then whined again.

“Don’t worry. We got this.”

The machine started rumbling on the counter like it was getting ready to take off or explode. Chip bolted.

“Okay, I got this.” Joker shook his head. “You sniff out bombs for a living, but you can’t face a coffee machine? You embarrass me. Shame on you.”

An argumentative bark resounded from the bedroom.

“Don’t you sass me!”

Why wasn’t this working? He removed his phone and did a web search. This was the first time he’d attempted to use the damned thing since he bought it last week. “Right. Let’s see here.” For fuck’s sake. He’d spent years entering hostile territory and rigging countless explosives of varying complexities; he could work a fucking coffee machine. He probably shouldn’t have thrown away the instructions.

Watching a quick online video revealed his mistake. “Oh, right. Water.” In his defense, he’d never made a damned cup of coffee in his life. Someone had always made it for him. He lived in the apartment he was in because it was within walking distance of several cafes and restaurants.

In the mornings, he stumbled out of bed and zombie-walked his way to Las Palmitas Cafe just a few feet away. The owners and regulars were used to seeing him in his pajamas with his hair looking like he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket. They’d have his coffee and a breakfast sandwich ready, and he’d grunt a thanks and shuffle his way back home.

Muttering to himself, he poured the required amount of water in the designated area and tried again. This time, the weird noises led to the smell of coffee and dark liquid trickling into his mug. Grabbing the creamer from the fridge, he poured himself a generous amount and took a sip. Not cafe-quality exactly, but not bad.

He took his coffee into his bedroom and stopped in the doorway, frowning at the clothes and shoes littering the floor. Chip lay on the rumpled bed, head on his paws as he observed Joker.

“It’s kind of a mess, huh?”

Chip wagged his tail as if agreeing but didn’t move from his spot.

“Yeah, okay.” After clearing a space on his dresser to place his coffee cup, Joker started picking up discarded clothes. Jesus, was there anything left in his dresser? “Look at that,” he muttered, removing a mound of dirty work pants and T-shirts. “It’s a laundry basket. I didn’t know we owned one of those.” Now that he thought about it, he remembered Fitz bringing over some stuff a few weeks ago. He narrowed his eyes, and his phone rang. Speak of the well-groomed devil.

“You need to stop sneaking shit into my apartment,” Joker said by way of greeting. He tossed the dirty clothes into his new laundry basket.

Fitz snorted. “Joker, sweetie, I put that basket in your room three weeks ago, and you only just found it? What does that tell us?”

“It tells us I didn’t have a laundry basket because I don’t have a washing machine.”

“I know that because we do, and your laundry is in it. As much as I love washing your underwear, it needs to be transported in something other than a garbage bag.”

“Fine. And don’t think I didn’t notice all the new scented plug-ins.” He glared at the happy little plastic succulent with some kind of lemon scent thing attached to it sticking out from one of the electrical sockets. How the hell had he not noticed Fitz plugging shit into the walls around his apartment? There were at least five more that he knew of.

“They’re organic and pet friendly,” Fitz informed him.

“They’re a fire hazard. Also, Chip is a dog. He’s supposed to smell like a dog.”

“Who said anything about Chip?”

Joker laughed and grabbed his coffee mug. He sat on the end of the bed. “You’re such a shit.”

“I love you too.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“Because I’m wondering if I need to call Jack and ask him to come home right away to start preparations for the apocalypse.”

Joker shook his head in amusement. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Jack.”

“Well, we do live together.”

“Can you do it or not?” Joker asked with a grunt. It had taken him three failed attempts to send that damned text.

“Can I, a hairstylist with over a decade of hairstyling experience, who has styled hair for supermodels and celebrities, cut your hair? Let me think about this a moment.”

“You’re an ass.”

Fitz chuckled. “I would very much love to get my hands on your hair.”

“Now I’m terrified.”

“How soon can you get here?”

“Just going to finish my coffee.” He held back a smile as Chip slowly crawled down the length of bed—as if Joker couldn’t see his big furry ass moving—and placed his head on Joker’s lap.

“You ventured out early today.”

“I, uh, made the coffee.”

Silence. Then, “I’m confused.”

Here we go. Joker sighed and gave Chip the scritches he wanted. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You made coffee? As in, you purchased coffee grounds and a coffee machine, put the two together, and made yourself something you’re able to consume?”

“I’m perfectly capable of using a coffee machine.” No one needed to know about the water incident. Fitz hummed like he knew something. Smartass.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Fine. And don’t tell your stupid boyfriend. He’ll just give me shit about it.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Fitz’s laugh was loud and made Joker smile. They hung up, and he finished his coffee. He hurried around his apartment, picking up all the shit scattered on his floor. He’d need to vacuum, but that would have to wait. Fitz had been surprised he’d owned a vacuum until Joker pointed out the big hairy black dog. Since Joker could create several more dogs from the hair Chip shed, a quality vacuum was a need, not a want. Also, King expected him to show up in a uniform not covered in dog hair, not that he could see Chip’s black hair on his black uniform, so it was a win-win for everyone.

Showered and dressed in a pair of comfy, threadbare jeans, a faded Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and his beat-up old Army boots, he grabbed Chip’s backpack and leash. With a whistle, Joker had Chip darting over to sit so he could clip in the leash. They headed outside. The weather was perfect for a ride in the Jeep with the top off. Opening the passenger side door, he waited for Chip to hop into the seat and settle before buckling him up in his doggie harness. He climbed behind the wheel and slipped his sunglasses on, then headed down A1A Beach Blvd.

The sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky, the warm breeze ruffling his hair as he drove; the heat and humidity were just about bearable at this time of day. Joker couldn’t help his smile. His radio was tuned in to his favorite classic rock station; Chip sat beside him, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his eyes closed as he enjoyed the wind in his fur. Life was good. His thoughts went to a certain dark-eyed, dark-haired someone. An image of Gio sitting in his Jeep, the wind blowing through those silky-looking curls, came to mind. Maybe he should invite Gio out for a day at the beach or something. Chip would love that.

Joker’s thoughts annoyed him. Clearly he was spending too much time around the guy. The idea of being around Gio didn’t bother him the way it did a few months ago. For one thing, Gio needed to learn to relax. Did he do anything other than work? So far, when he wasn’t working, he’d been happy to hang with Joker, but outside of his events, he never talked about friends or meeting up with anyone who wasn’t part of their little group. Okay, he needed to stop thinking about Gio.

When he’d gotten up that morning, he’d found a group text from Ace saying they were all heading to Sapphire Sands tonight. It had been a few months since they’d been, and Joker was looking forward to drinks and dancing. Getting a haircut had nothing to do with Gio’s response that he’d be there. Joker’s hair had started to curl around his ears, so it was time for a trim, and he wasn’t about to trust just anyone. Not when his best friend’s boyfriend was a fancy hairstylist.

This was his first day off after a week of working Gio’s charity events, of joining him in his hotel room after and ordering room service, of eating meals with him and talking, of watching TV and watching Gio play with Chip, treating his dog like he was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. No way did he miss having the man around. That would be stupid. Sometimes they didn’t even talk. Gio would work on his laptop, and Joker would watch TV. Sure, it was nice not being alone, but it wasn’t a big deal.

In no time, he was pulling into Fitz’s driveway. It had taken a little while to get used to Jack living here. They’d all helped him move in a few months ago, and shortly after, Jack had rented out his apartment. He’d been the last of his brothers-in-arms to move in with his boyfriend, and at first, Joker worried it would be uncomfortable, but it hadn’t been. Probably because the first to make a move had been Ace, and at the time, they’d already been treating Colton’s house as a home away from home, so not much changed once Ace moved in. They simply spent even more time there, having family barbecues and get-togethers.

The door opened, and Fitz smiled brightly. “Hello, handsome.”

Joker rolled his eyes while Chip did his whole-body-wiggle thing, and Fitz loved on him as if he hadn’t seen Chip in years rather than a few days. An excited bark resounded from somewhere inside the house, and Chip whined, making Fitz chuckle.

“The princess awaits her prince.” Fitz stepped to one side with a wide smile, and Chip lifted his pleading gaze to Joker. With an amused shake of his head, Joker unclipped Chip’s leash, and Chip darted in. He hurried over to the armchair where Duchess sat in the center like a queen on her throne, a little sparkling tiara barrette clipped to the fluffy fur at the top of her head in case anyone dared to question her regalness.

Chip, however, was not content to play the submissive suitor. He jumped up onto the armchair and shoved his butt down, forcing her to move over. She let out a very put-upon sigh and made room for him, then lay down. Chip, being the gentleman he was, slid down onto his belly and shoved his nose in her face.

“There is no question he’s your dog,” Fitz said with a laugh.

Joker snorted. “That’s for damn sure.” He followed Fitz inside and locked the door behind him. With Chip’s leash hung on the hook behind the door next to Duchess’s, he headed for the living room.

“Want something to drink?” Fitz asked.

“No thanks.”

Fitz was quiet as he entered the bedroom he’d converted into a mini-salon for friends and hair emergencies, whatever that meant. His lips were pressed together.

“Just say whatever you’re bursting to say,” Joker muttered.

A dainty gasp escaped Fitz, and he put a hand to his chest. “Why, whatever do you mean?” He blinked innocently, or at least attempted to. Joker arched an eyebrow at him, and he laughed. “Fine. The chair is ready; sit down and tell me everything.”

“Fuck no. Besides, there’s nothing to tell. If there had been, your boyfriend would’ve already told you.” Joker dropped himself into the chair as Fitz moved around the room, gathering the supplies he needed.

“Jack doesn’t tell me everything.”

“Wow. You managed to say that with a straight face. Good for you.”

Fitz laughed again as he draped the salon cape around him. From the moment Joker had met Fitz, before the guy had even gotten together with Jack, there’d been something different about him, something that made Joker feel protective of Fitz, like he could open up to him, have serious conversations. He’d never really had that with anyone. As much as he talked to Jack about everything, they didn’t get into any touchy-feely stuff.

Despite Fitz being several inches taller than Joker, he had this air about him—a vulnerability easily targeted because of his soft heart. He had a way of creating a safe space. Joker had certainly never been the talking-about-his-feelings type, but for all his teasing, he knew anything he said to Fitz in confidence would stay between them. And it wasn’t like he cared if Fitz told Jack. Other than whatever Fitz was expecting to hear, chances were Jack already knew.

Fitz ran his fingers through Joker’s hair, checking the length. “I hear Gio’s events are going well.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Joker muttered.

“You’re there. How much do you want me to take off?”

“I’m there working. Whatever you think, but don’t leave it too short.”

“Well, he’s secure, so that means it’s going well. Workwise anyway. Sink.”

Joker stood and plopped himself down in the chair by the small black sink. He reclined back, but narrowed his eyes when Fitz loomed over him with a wide smile.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let me know if the water’s too cold.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Joker grumbled, making Fitz laugh. He tapped a finger against his thigh as Fitz shampooed his hair, relaxing when Fitz started to massage his scalp. His eyes drifted closed, and he sighed with contentment.

“You sound like Chip when you scratch his belly.”

Joker smiled. “We’re simple guys with simple needs.”

Fitz hummed. “And who’s meeting your needs these days?” He finished washing Joker’s hair. “Back to the other chair.”

Joker moved, watching Fitz fuss with his hair through the mirror. “Are the scissors in your hand?”

“No. Why?”

“Just making sure you don’t chop or stab anything.”

Fitz met his gaze in the mirror. He was unimpressed. “Don’t be silly. I’m a professional. Besides, I’m friends with Ace. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

Joker considered his next words, his fingers tapping against his thigh again. Shit. Was he really going to do this? Fuck it. “I kissed Gio.”

Silence.

Joker studied Fitz’s frozen face through the mirror. His friend stared wide-eyed at him, mouth hanging open. Suddenly, Joker found himself spun around.

“I lied. I’m surprised. Very surprised.” Fitz stood in front of him, eyes still huge. “Oh my God, you kissed him?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“When? How?” He narrowed his eyes and pointed his scissors at Joker. “Spill the tea.”

“You said you weren’t holding the scissors!”

“I lied.” Fitz waved the scissors at him. “Spill.”

Why he felt the need to talk about this with Fitz—or anyone for that matter—when he hadn’t even told Jack was beyond him, but the words tumbled out.

“It was after one of his charity events. He invited me to his room.”

Fitz gasped, and Joker rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t like that. He invited me over for food. We’d done it before. He was too tired to go out to eat, so he ordered room service, and who am I to turn down free food?”

“Naturally.” Fitz motioned for him to continue. “So he invited you to his room for some free food, you said yes, and then…?”

“We ate and talked. He’d left his event early because he said he had some work to catch up on, and he did. I wasn’t going to eat and run, you know?”

Fitz nodded and hummed. “Of course not. That would be rude, and you’re never rude.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Joker flipped him off, making him laugh. “Anyway. After we ate, he told me to make myself at home, so I did. I watched TV while he worked on his laptop. It was nice.”

“Nice.” Fitz seemed confused by the word.

“Yeah. Nice. At some point, he fell asleep. The guy was exhausted.”

“And his sleeping form was too hard to resist?” Fitz guessed.

“Um, no. He got cold.”

“How do you know?”

“How did I know he was cold?”

Fitz’s amusement was not lost on him. Fucker.

“I just did, okay. You wanna hear this or not?”

Fitz pretended to zip his lips.

“He was cold, so I grabbed a blanket and went to cover him up.” He ignored Fitz’s little squeal. “He woke up, and we sort of stared at each other. I finished covering him up and turned to leave when he caught my wrist, and then it sort of just happened.”

“Sort of just happened.” Fitz nodded slowly and waited.

“Yeah, all right. I wanted tokiss him. I wanted to kiss him really fucking badly, so I did.”

“And?”

Joker shifted in his seat. “And he kissed me back.”

“And?”

“It got… heated.”

“For the love of Lady Gaga, tell me!”

Joker snorted out a laugh. “Christ, I climbed him like a tree, okay? Happy? I shoved him onto the couch and climbed him, and we were both hard as fuck. We mauled each other and rubbed up against each other, and it was hot as fuck.”

Fitz took a step back, one hand to his chest while he snatched the little spray bottle of water from the tray and sprayed himself, making Joker laugh. He motioned for Joker to continue.

“Then I left.”

“You left.” Fitz narrowed his eyes like he couldn’t quite work out if Joker was telling him the truth or not.

Joker shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, nothing can happen between us.”

“And why is that again?”

“Come on, Fitz. Think about it. A guy like Gio with a guy like me?”

A mist of water hit him in the face. Joker blinked up at him. “Did you just spritz me in the face?”

“I did. To wake you up. I know you’re not thinking you’re not good enough for him.”

Joker frowned and shifted in his seat. “No, not that. We’re so different. He’s all tailored designer suits and private jets, and I’m faded T-shirts, jeans, and a Jeep covered in dog hair. His lint roller budget alone would be enough to fund small governments.”

“You’re adorable,” Fitz said, making Joker frown. “Have you seen the man with your dog?” He threw a hand out and made an exploding sound. “Ovaries everywhere erupt at the sight.”

Joker couldn’t help his snicker. “You’re such a dork.”

“You know,” Fitz said as he spun Joker around and went back to working on Joker’s hair, “I’d thought the same about Jack. I mean, when he gets all excited about his computer stuff, I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter because seeing his eyes light up and that big boyish smile he gets makes me so happy. And he knows I have no clue what he’s saying, but he loves how attentive I am regardless. That’s what relationships are, not having every little thing in common. I certainly wouldn’t have fallen in love with him if he’d been just like me.” Fitz snorted. “There’s only room for one diva in this relationship.” A bark resounded from the other room, and they both laughed. “Okay, one human and one furry diva,” Fitz corrected.

Joker left Fitz’s with a new haircut and some food for thought. The truth was, the differences between him and Gio didn’t concern him all that much, at least not in the compatibility department. Joker avoided relationships for a reason, and not because he was afraid of putting in the work. There were certain things he was willing to change, but he’d gone through too much in his life to have someone come in and try to change him.

It always went the same. In the beginning, they loved his carefree manner. They laughed at his hijinks with his brothers-in-arms, loved how much he loved his dog, were excited he’d been a Green Beret. They expressed all the things they loved about him, and soon the newness and excitement wore off and the arguments started. He was too messy, too loud, too outspoken, cursed too much, spent too much time with his friends, cared more about his dog than them, and the list went on.

At first they’d say they were okay with him not going to birthday parties or weddings. Then they’d be arguing over why he was okay to go clubbing but wasn’t comfortable going to Grandma’s eighty-fifth birthday party. The arguments would escalate, the accusations of him being emotionally unavailable. So he’d stopped—stopped dating, stopped believing there was someone out there for him who might want him as he was.

With a sigh, he patted Chip’s side as he drove them back to his apartment. Why was he even worried about this? He had a list of reasons a mile long why he shouldn’t get involved with Gio. The guy wasn’t just a friend—sort of—he was Laz’s brother and Colton’s best friend, two men who were in relationships with Joker’s brothers. Their family had grown, and the last thing Joker wanted was to fuck up the good thing he had, and getting romantically involved with Gio was a surefire way to fuck everything up. Maybe the same went for the rest of them, but Joker had to face the fact that if someone was going to fuck up a relationship, it’d be him.

Determined not to think about it, he took Chip to the dog park near their apartment. He grabbed the Frisbee and one of the tennis balls from the floor behind his seat. They played until Chip decided he’d had enough and dropped onto his side at Joker’s feet in dramatic fashion. The rest of the day went like any other day off. Soon they were home and it was time to shower and get dressed.

It really shouldn’t have taken him as long as it did to pick out some fucking clothes. Since when did he ponder his wardrobe choices? He usually threw on whatever was clean, and even then, it depended on the day. Instead of grabbing jeans and a T-shirt like he would have any other night, he spent far too long picking the right pair of jeans—black—and the right shirt—a royal blue that made his eyes look more blue than gray—and his new all-black Vans.

He made sure Chip was settled and had everything he needed before giving him love and telling him he’d be back soon. His phone buzzed, and he locked up the apartment. Downstairs, Ace and Jack waited by Ace’s flashy car. Joker had no idea what time Gio would show up, but he did his best not to think about it.

“Holy fuck,” Ace said, eyes wide as he smacked Jack in the arm.

“What the—”

“What?” Joker asked, stopping in front of his friends.

Ace peered at him. “Your hair… It’s like you brushed it or something.”

“It’s been known to happen,” Joker grumbled.

Jack’s gasp was ridiculously dramatic. “Fitz cut your hair!”

“Holy shit! Hold on.” Ace precariously leaned in and sniffed. He jolted back. “You showered.”

“I fucking shower, asshole.” He was going to murder his friends. Murder them dead and take Ace’s fancy car.

“But you smell… good,” Ace added.

“No, he doesn’t.” Jack leaned in and sniffed, his eyes going huge. “Holy shit, he does smell good.” He gaped at Joker. “You showered, got a haircut, and you smell good.”

“Wait.” Ace ran his gaze over Joker. “You’re wearing clean clothes. Clothes without holes. Going-out clothes.” He gasped. “Holy fuck, you’re in lo—”

“You shut your mouth,” Joker growled, throwing a hand over Ace’s mouth. “If you ever finish that sentence in my presence, I will kick your ass, you hear me? I will send Chip to shit in every pair of shoes you own and tell your mother every time you bullshit her about why you couldn’t take her call.”

Ace’s eyes went huge, and he nodded fervently.

The fuck he was in any kind of L-word hell. How dare Ace suggest such a thing! He narrowed his gaze at Jack, who stood looking like a constipated hedgehog. “Whatever you’re fucking thinking in that big brain of yours, you better stop. Like, right this instant.”

Jack threw his hands up in front of him. “Got it.”

They climbed into the car, Joker sitting in the back. Did his friends think he didn’t notice them exchanging glances? Some kind of unspoken conversation was happening in the front seats between asshole friend and asshole best friend soon-to-be-punched-in-the-face friend.

“I can see you, you know.”

Ace glanced at him through the rearview mirror, a shit-eating grin coming onto his face. “We see you too, buddy.”

What the fuck? Joker glared at Ace, but all that did was make him laugh. Bastard.

They picked up Fitz on the way to the club. Colton was getting dropped off a little later, since he’d had a meeting that ran over and he was still at the office in Jacksonville, so it’d take him a little longer to get there. Once they arrived at Sapphire Sands, they headed for the VIP area Frank had reserved for them and climbed into the empty huge U-shaped booth. It looked like they were the first ones to arrive.

“First round is on me,” Jack said, getting out.

Joker and Ace exchanged glances, then turned their narrowed gaze on their friend. Jack wasn’t fooling anyone.

“That doesn’t mean you get out of it later when everyone’s here,” Joker said. The challenge coins would be slammed down at some point, and one of them would be buying drinks for all of them, including the boyfriends.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You want some booze or not?”

“You know what I like,” Joker said.

Jack took Ace’s order, and with his hand in Fitz’s, left for the bar.

Ace snorted. “Ten bucks says they’ll get distracted making out and it’ll be at least half an hour before they make it to the bar.”

“Do I look like a sucker to you? No bet, Sharpe.”

Ace cackled. “Damn. That would have been easy money.”

“Right, because you’re so hard up for cash. Oh, wait. You’re married to a billionaire.” He fiddled with the napkin on the table. “How do you do it?”

“That’s a loaded question, buddy. You might want to be a little more specific.”

“Ass. I meant, how do you live in Colton’s world? All those fancy parties, big spenders, investment portfolios, and stocks. It’s not you.”

“Oh, well, that’s easy. I don’t live in that world. Colton likes having me at his galas and events to support him, to keep him grounded. I never pretend to be something I’m not, and Colton never expects me to. He loves me, and he’s proud to be with me. I’m not going to say it’s always a blast, but it’s a few hours here and there. That kind of thing doesn’t bug me, and I don’t let it bug Colton.”

“But don’t you feel… out of place?”

Ace shrugged. “Not really, but that’s down to Colton. He always finds ways to include me in the conversation. A lot of the time, he introduces me to people he knows I’d have a good time talking to or someone I might have something in common with, whether it’s the military or a favorite football team.” He smiled knowingly. “Not everyone is an asshole.”

Joker grunted.

Fitz and Jack returned with their drinks, and Joker shook his head in shame at them. As if they wouldn’t have been able to guess what the two had been up to, with Fitz’s kiss-swollen lips, messy hair, and faint beard burn. What was it like to want someone so badly all the time that you couldn’t keep your hands or mouth off them? The memory of his kiss with Gio flooded his brain, and he shifted uncomfortably. Great, just what he needed, to get a hard-on in front of Ace.

The music was thumping, and the dance floor was packed as usual. Their crew started arriving, with everyone there except Gio. Joker turned to Laz while the guys were giving Ace shit over something.

“Hey, was Gio getting a ride with you guys?”

Laz smiled brightly at him. “No, Saint drove him here, but they got here at the same time we did. They’re at the bar getting us drinks.”

The guy who didn’t drink alcohol was getting the booze. Nice. Gio never mentioned why he didn’t drink alcohol, only that he didn’t. Not that he had to explain himself to anyone. If he said he didn’t drink, they respected that, but Joker was curious. He’d heard Laz tell stories of Gio and Colton in college coming home all giggly or drunk off their asses, so at some point, Gio did consume alcohol. Knowing Gio was close by had Joker feeling restless.

“I’ll go see if he needs help,” Joker said to Laz, not that Gio would, considering Saint was with him, but he doubted Laz was going to give it as much thought as he was. His friends moved so he could get out of the booth, and he ignored Ace’s knowing look. Joker flipped him off for good measure.

It was like Gio had a homing beacon, one Joker was tuned in to. He spotted Gio right away, his long, lean body leaning casually against the bar as he talked to Saint. The dark curls of Gio’s hair were wild, as if he somehow knew how desperate it made Joker want to run his fingers through them. His expensive black dress shirt was tucked into his gray slacks, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his toned forearms.

The air around Joker seemed to change, and he sucked in a breath when Gio straightened and turned, doing a legit double take when he saw Joker. His eyes looked black as he raked his gaze over Joker, the heat and want coming from him so palpable Joker stilled. His heart pounded in his ears, his pulse doing double time as he waited to see what Gio’s next move would be.

Gio turned and murmured something to Saint, who nodded, and then he strode up to Joker and cupped his face. “Sacha…” His eyes were impossibly dark, and Joker’s jeans tightened exponentially.

“Hey.”

“You’re all I can think about,” Gio admitted.

Joker worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Was he really going to be that much of a sap? One heated look and a few sweet words and he was going to fold like a bad hand on poker night? Fuck it. He grabbed Gio’s wrist and tugged him along as he hurried toward the back rooms. No overthinking, no excuses.

“If you don’t want this, now’s your chance to say so,” Joker said over his shoulder.

Gio huffed out a small laugh. “Not a chance.”

Saint appeared next to them, and Joker didn’t look at Saint when he spoke.

“You can wait outside the door or at the end of the hall. We’re gonna be a while.”

To Saint’s credit, his only break from his professionalism was the corner of his lips pulled up in a little smile. “Got it.”

They stepped through the black curtains dividing the back rooms from the club floor, and Joker led him down the door-lined corridor. He pulled Gio into the last room, closed the door behind them, and turned to face Gio.

Are you out of your fucking mind?

No matter how many times Joker asked himself that question, he came up with nothing. This had to be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, and he knew a thing or two about bad ideas. So why was he carrying through with it? Not only could he not bring himself to stop, but he also couldn’t even work out which way was up, all because of one smooth, handsome-faced motherfucker.

Instead of coming to his senses, Joker climbed Giovanni Galanos like a fucking tree, legs wrapped around the guy’s waist, arms around his neck, and his tongue fighting Gio’s for dominance as they kissed like it was the only thing keeping the universe from collapsing in on itself. The more Joker tasted, the more he wanted, and that was dangerous.

Gio cursed as his back hit the wall with an armful of Joker. “Sacha…”

“Don’t call me that,” Joker growled against Gio’s lips. “Better yet, don’t talk.”

“Then how am I supposed to tell you how incredibly sexy you are?”

“Shut up.”

Gio laughed softly, and Joker kissed him to shut him up, a hot, sloppy, incendiary kiss that threatened to ignite Joker from the inside out, though he was pretty sure he was already there. How was it possible to both hate and need someone so bad that he could barely breathe? Okay, maybe he didn’t hate Gio, but he disliked what Gio brought out in him. This sense of chaos, of not being in control of himself, of his body, of needing more. Fuck, he didn’t want to need this asshole. If only his fucking body would listen to his head—the one on his shoulders—maybe he could break whatever hold Gio had on him.

Joker was so hard it was painful. The heat that exploded through him was incandescent, and if he didn’t get Gio inside him in the next few minutes, he’d fucking melt. That in and of itself terrified him. No matter his sexual encounter, he was in control. Always. Was he going to give Gio that kind of control? No. Gio might drive him out of his mind, but Joker was the one in control here. He was the one calling the shots, same as always. Gio was no different than any other hookup.

Gio’s hands on his ass had Joker moaning. Damn, the man had great hands. Who knew fingers that long and delicate-looking could have such a firm grip? But then the fucker exuded strength, even with his rich-boy appearance. Everything about Gio screamed high-maintenance and expensive, from his pristine designer shirt that Joker was determined to wrinkle beyond repair to his stupidly perfect, shiny black hair, incredible cheekbone structure, sinful stubble, and that annoyingly handsome face.

“What do you want, Sacha?” Gio whispered as he moved his lips away from Joker’s mouth to his neck.

“Besides you not calling me that? I want you to make me come. No questions, no overthinking, no promises, just this here right now.”

Gio met his gaze, and as tempted as Joker was to avert those intense dark eyes, he didn’t. He needed Gio to understand what was going on here. This wasn’t a promise of anything. The most likely outcome would be that they’d get whatever this was out of their systems, and that was it. They were done.

Years of this guy getting under his skin for no fucking reason, of Joker getting annoyed by the sound of his voice, by the thought of him, it was over. The man had driven him out of his mind, and now he had Gio in front of him, he was done with all the bullshit.

“Well?”

Gio’s lips quirked up in the corner, and Joker narrowed his eyes. Why did he always look like he knew some secret no one else did? So fucking annoying.

“Okay.”

Joker eyed him. “Really?”

Gio nipped at Joker’s jaw. “If that’s what you want.”

Damn skippy it’s what he wanted. Joker nodded. Well, that had been easier than expected. Great! A little sex and they’d go their separate ways—though not entirely since Laz was dating Red, but whatever. Minor details. Point was, this whole thing between them could finally be put to rest. Not like Gio would want him for more than that anyway, so they might as well get a good fuck out of it and move on. Not like he wanted to date the guy or anything.

Gio returned his mouth to Joker’s, understanding between them, meaning Joker could focus on taking his pleasure. All they had was one moment, and Joker was going to make the most of it. He allowed Gio to carry him over to the couch, ignoring the strength in the man, how easily he held Joker, and how gently he sat with Joker in his lap, despite their exploding need. Their mouths remained connected, and Joker refused to acknowledge how much he liked Gio under him.

Without moving his lips away from Gio’s, he reached into his pocket and removed a packet of lube and a condom, ignoring the bowl full of lube packets and condoms on the small black coffee table next to the couch.

Gio smiled against Joker’s mouth. “I see you came prepared.”

“Green Beret. I’m always prepared.”

Gio laughed softly, the sound going right to Joker’s cock. As if he weren’t hard enough. They brought their mouths together again, as if neither of them could spend more than a few seconds without breathing the other’s air. Gio tasted so fucking good. Forcing himself away, Joker scrambled off Gio, his breath coming out ragged at the sight of Gio’s messy state.

“I’m going to fucking wreck you,” Joker told him.

Gio’s eyes went wide, and before Joker knew what the hell was happening, Gio stood. He grabbed Joker’s wrist, his smile turning wicked at Joker’s wide eyes.

“My sweet Sacha.” Gio ran a finger down Joker’s jawline. He bent closer and murmured in his ear. “You’re going to get on your knees for me and do everything I tell you.”

Joker turned his face, his lips brushing Gio’s cheek. “And why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because,” Gio breathed, sliding one hand down to Joker’s ass and bringing him hard against him, their erections pressing together and making Joker groan low. “We both know that deep down, you’re aching to submit—” He nipped at Joker’s jawline, making his entire body shudder. “—to me.”

A quiet gasp escaped Joker, and he lifted his hands to Gio’s chest, ready to push him away, but he didn’t. His body was on fire at Gio’s words, his dick straining painfully against his jeans.

“You’ve wanted to since the beginning,” Gio murmured, moving his hand to the bulge in Joker’s pants. Joker pushed his erection into Gio’s hand with a moan. He was practically panting. Gio licked at the corner of Joker’s mouth. “I want to take care of you. Let me give you what you need.”

Gio had said something similar before, back during the bachelor auction when he’d surprised the shit out of Joker.

No overthinking. No excuses.

Joker gently shoved Gio away, his gaze never moving from Gio’s.

Then he did something he had never done for anyone in the whole of his adult life.

He got on his knees.