Sam couldn’t take it; there was too much pent up desire, too many nights spent in this very bed longing for the man next to him. “Alistair—” he warned, but the word dissolved into a cry as his orgasm overwhelmed him. His hips bucked uncontrollably, and Alistair made a needy sound as his throat worked, swallowing everything Sam gave him.
“God,” Sam gasped, when he could speak again.
Alistair moved to straddle his hips, prick hard. He reached to stroke himself, but Sam got his hands there first. Alistair groaned, braced himself against Sam’s shoulders, and thrust into the tight tunnel formed by his fingers. Alistair must have been just as excited, just as pent-up, because it took only a few movements before hot spunk hit Sam’s chest.
Alistair remained still for a long moment, braced above Sam, his breathing slowing gradually. Then he leaned down and kissed Sam on the lips, on the nose, on the forehead. “Good?” he whispered.
“Fantastic.” Sam reached up and ran his fingers across Alistair’s chest, still in awe that he was actually allowed to do so.
Alistair swung off of him. “I’ll get a towel, clean you up.”
“No, stay here.” Sam reached blindly for the floor, came up with one of his discarded socks, and wiped off his chest. When he was done, Alistair rolled into him, head on Sam’s shoulder, one arm flung across his stomach. Sam stroked Alistair’s hair, and was rewarded with a sleepy sound that was almost a purr.
Sam closed his eyes, drowsy and content. There was so much to do tomorrow, but right now there was only this bubble of warmth and comfort, holding close to the man he was falling in love with.
They left for Sullivan’s flower shop as soon as they finished breakfast, which by that point was late in the morning. Alistair walked beside Sam, their arms linked together.
It had been wonderful, to just have the time to do things right. To savor his new lover, to explore and learn the landscape of Sam’s body. It had been a long, long time since Alistair had the chance to do anything remotely like that.
“What are you thinking about?” Sam asked. “You’re smiling.”
“I was thinking about last night.” Alistair bumped his hip against Sam’s.
Sam blushed. “It was good, wasn’t it?”
“Better than good.”
“Really? I know I’m not…not experienced…”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with experience.” They stopped on a corner, waiting for the cars to pass. “It’s about who you’re with. And I was with you.”
Now Sam’s entire face was red. Fur and feathers, he was adorable.
They stopped in front of the florist’s shop. “Let me do the talking as much as possible,” Alistair said. “I know how to handle Sullivan.”
Sam bit his lip. “We are doing the right thing, aren’t we? Even though Ursino warned me not to?”
“Ursino’s opening gambit was to send one of his goons to beat you up, so yes.” Alistair shrugged. “Sullivan at least responds to reason.”
They entered the shop. Sullivan was working on what looked like a wedding arrangement, an extravagance of baby’s breath, red roses, lilies, and white tulle. When they approached, he stepped back and eyed it. “What do you think?”
“Nice,” Alistair said, because he wasn’t stupid enough to tell one of the most powerful gangsters in Chicago that his floral arrangements needed tweaking.
He hadn’t counted on Sam’s naïveté. “A bit more greenery?”
Sullivan looked at Sam for a long moment, and Alistair’s heartbeat quickened. He had to say something to diffuse the moment—
A grin stretched Sullivan’s mouth. “Just what I was thinking myself. You have a good eye, kid.” He removed his apron and beckoned to them. “Come on upstairs.”
As they followed, Alistair leaned over and hissed, “I told you to let me do the talking,” in Sam’s ear.
“It was just about flowers,” Sam snapped back in a low voice.
No, it was about Sullivan’s ego. Thankfully things had gone well this time, but that was luck. Maybe he should have sent Sam to The Pride instead of bringing him here.
They went into Eldon’s office, and he settled behind his desk. “Have you found the hex?”
“Not yet,” Alistair said. “In fact, there’s a possibility a third party has it.”
He went over everything they’d done, from copying Charlie Vit’s hex at Club Grimalkin to what they’d learned from Ursino. When he finished, Sullivan sat in silence for a few minutes, obviously considering.
“I have to say, Eldon’s actions were disappointing,” he said at last, and Alistair felt a chill run down his spine. Eldon must have planned to defect to Ursino with the new hex, because his life wouldn’t have been worth much after betraying Sullivan. “But you, Mr. Cunningham—I’m impressed.”
Sam straightened, looking surprised. “Me?”
“Oh yes.” Sullivan smiled and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his desk. “I’m impressed you were able to copy the hex to get into The Black Rabbit, let alone so speedily in a bathroom stall. I’d like to have you come work for me.”
Damn it. “We should really keep looking for your hex,” Alistair said, before Sam could reply. “We can’t assume whoever killed Eldon made off with it. Sam and I will keep digging, find out who else Eldon might have told about it.”
“When you have a name, bring it to me,” Sullivan said.
Alistair nodded. “You’re a busy man, so we won’t take up any more of your time.”
Thankfully, Sullivan only waved at them to go. No doubt he had to consider how to respond to Ursino’s move against him. That would keep him distracted for now, but eventually he’d remember his job offer to Sam.
As soon as they were on the sidewalk, Sam turned around and glared up at Alistair. “What was that all about?”
He’d hoped Sam hadn’t noticed. “Sullivan is dangerous, Sam. I should never have taken you back there.”
“I’m not a child,” he said, voice level but eyes narrowed. “Stop treating me like one.”
“I’m sorry, but trust me, you don’t want to work for these people.”
“And stop telling me what I want!” Sam snapped, clearly exasperated. “I can’t stay in Eldon’s house forever, and I can’t spend the rest of my life washing dishes at The Pride.”
Alistair winced. “Speaking of Eldon’s house, it’s not safe to stay there anymore. Sullivan is going to respond to Ursino, he can’t just let this pass, and I don’t want you to become a target. You can move in with me at The Pride until this all blows over.”
“You want me to live and work at The Pride the way you do?”
Alistair shifted from one foot to the other. “For now, yes.”
Sam sighed. “All right. Fine. But I didn’t move to Chicago to-to become a hermit.”
“Like me?” Damn Doris for saying that in front of Sam.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You really didn’t have to.”
Rather than answer, Sam said, “I know you don’t like it, but I need a better job. Sullivan’s offered me one of those, and if I bond with Philip, then I gather the money will be even better.”