Guns n' Boys: Homicidal Instinct (Book 2) (gay dark mafia erotic romance) (4 page)

Jamie’s perfect forehead
got marred by a frown. “Yeah, I have, like, a mower phobia now. And when I was
in high school I couldn’t do lawns. It was either being the paper boy, or a
babysitter, and I’m no manny.”

“And now you can’t get a
suburban home,” Domenico said, putting his hand on Seth’s shoulder as he
watched the perfect steaks. “How tragic.”

Neil’s slim body loomed
in the doorway. “What the hell? It’s not that funny, you stupid fuck! I see it
all really runs in the family.”

“Pretty much,” Dom said.
“Handsome face, big cock. All in the family.”

Seth stilled, and the
steak he was picking up fell back in the pan. He put a hand over his face in
silence. “Neil, please piss off,” he muttered in the end.

“Watch how you’re
talking to my husband!” said Jamie.

Domenico chuckled,
hitting his forehead on Seth’s back. “You two really are destined to be
together. It’s like you share one brain.”

“What did you say?”
asked Neil, approaching Dom with his hands balled into fists.

Seth pushed Dom away
gently and stood between them. “Can’t you do something useful? Go set the table
or something? If Peter was able to stop hating me, so can you.”

Neil growled and pushed
his finger against Seth’s breastbone. “Oh, fuck you. I’m not afraid of you. You
only fight guys weaker than you, and that’s not me!”

It was like watching a
sitcom. Domenico let out a barking laugh that embarrassed him a little. But
then again, what was it when compared to Neil’s stupidity.

Jamie got up, and pulled
Neil’s elbow. “Neil, come on, don’t argue with him or he’s gonna burn the
steaks.”

The sour look on Seth’s
face was all Dom needed to see to know what Seth thought of the two pests.

“Jamie, you can’t be
serious,” moaned Neil, but he too started pulling away.

Good choice. Domenico
didn’t discriminate when someone stepped on his toe.

“Some peace and quiet?”
he asked, closing his eyes. His nose was hovering low over Seth’s skin. Its
scent was musky, a bit bitter, but also ripe with the sun. It ticked all
Domenico’s boxes.

Seth finally put the
last steak on a plate and gave Dom a concerned look. “You shouldn’t be walking
around like this. What if it gets infected?” He shook his head and gently put
two fingertips close to the wound on Dom’s cheek.

Domenico closed his
eyes, shocked by the warm touch. “What’s the cologne you’re using?” he asked to
mask his uneasiness. He would not betray his weak points. He was a killer. A
jackal.

“Um, I didn’t use one.
It might be the soap. I wasn’t looking what it was.” Seth pulled his hand away.
“To be honest, I haven’t shaved in three days either. Maybe I could appropriate
the lumberjack look to be harder to recognize.”

Domenico’s face spread
into a slight smile, but he relaxed his muscles when it pulled on his healing
skin. Seth would benefit from this kind of look. He had the body of a
lumberjack. “You already have a beard on your stomach. Might do the top as
well.”

Seth groaned and looked
down to his stomach. “Are you saying it’s that bad?”

“No,
hairy
fits
you,” Dom said, leaning against the counter next to Seth.

“We’re hungry!” Neil and
Jamie yelled from the living room, and Seth took a deep breath.

“I’ll deal with this.
You wanna take a quick shower first? You can have a lemon tart now if you’re
hungry.” Seth pointed to six most perfect-looking tarts on the window sill.
They drew Domenico’s attention like a good porn movie would, and he found
himself gravitating to the six beautiful cakes. He touched one only to find it
was still warm. His stomach melted. “Home made?” he asked, looking back at
Seth.

“Yeah, I got them ready
in the meanwhile, but they’re good warm as well.” Seth was already focused on
pouring soup into bowls.

“You cook.” Domenico
snatched the tart and raised it to his nose, suddenly assaulted by the scent of
wonderfully fresh lemon. Not some aromatic oil. Actual lemon and zest. It was
the real deal. Biting into the thing was as natural as breathing, and the
explosion of buttery crust and creamy citrus flavor made him slouch against the
wall. The cake had such perfect balance of sweetness and tang. It was exactly
the
something
he’d been looking for earlier.

“You remember?” Seth
looked back at him with so much hope that Dom just had to lie.

“I think so. This
tastes... amazing.” And it also happened to be the thing Dom needed to calm
down. He took one more tart and started backing away toward the door. A bath
sounded nice. He could eat in the tub.

“I-- yeah… see you in a
bit. I’ll keep stuff warm for you,” Seth said and took a whole tray of bowls to
the living room.

Domenico smiled, his
gaze sliding over the back of Seth’s body. From head to toe, with a swirl
around that perfectly shaped ass. Domenico shook his head and bit so deep into
the tart he had crumbs rolling down his chest. He needed to fuck someone fast.

Chapter 4

Domenico looked at the
little fluffy dog staring at him from where it was curled up on a pile of
laundry. The thing so insistently demanded access to the bathroom that Dom
ended up letting it in, and now that he was dressed in a pair of Seth’s old
sweatpants and a T-shirt that made him look like a scarecrow, Fluffy was still
there.

Domenico sighed. “What
is it?” Aren’t you hungry? Even I am hungry when I smell dinner.” Slowly, he
picked up the little poodle, which weighed close to nothing, and limped to the
living room. He held it like he would hold a baby, and frowned when he saw the
little cock pouch and balls. “Is Fluffy gay?”

The dog barked at him a
few times, as if to confirm Dom’s assumption.

Domenico grinned. “A
twink. So light, had a fashionable pink collar. With, uh-diamantes,” he added
with a scowl, “Calls himself Fluffy, and still has most of his junk. Who’s
banging him?” he called out, slowly walking into the living room where everyone
was already gathered at the table.

Seth looked back at him
with a smile as he was serving everyone their food instead of eating. It was
hard to believe this smiley guy was part of a mafia family.

“Just in time,” Seth
said and pulled back a chair for Dom after putting a steak on Jamie’s plate.

Domenico put down Fluffy
and sat in the chair with a slight nod to Seth. There was a tenderness to his
gestures, which made Domenico believe even more firmly that they were indeed
related. He looked around at the four other men, wondering whether he knew them
as well. His mind was as blank as an hour ago, so he focused on the food
instead. Only now did he pay proper attention to the cramped living room with
an overabundance of flowers on the windowsill, a glass cabinet with porcelain
figures, and rose-printed armchairs in front of the television. A cheap-looking
glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, intent on pretending it was made of
crystal. It felt as if the grandmother who used to own the place wasn’t too
long gone.

A move on his side
turned Dom’s attention to a ladle transporting soup straight to the white bowl
in front of him, the vapors of tomato and basil spiking Dom’s appetite.

“Hope you like it, I
kept it warm for you,” Seth said with a smile and sprinkled the soup with
freshly chopped herbs. He then poured Dom some water with lemon before finally
sitting down next to him.

It was hard not to smile
at such a beautiful dish. Domenico picked up a spoon and gently scooped some of
the soup. He raised it to his nose and drew in the aroma, rich and fresh. So
was the taste, as it turned out. He looked at Seth, startled by the
determination shining in his eyes.

“It’s good.”

“I got some fresh
tomatoes when I was out.” Seth’s face lit up with a wide smile.

Jamie rolled his eyes.
“Jeez, I thought that Neil and I were the only ones married at this table.”

Domenico frowned. “We’re
brothers.”

Seth groaned and shook
his head at Jamie. “You couldn’t at least wait till after dinner with the
bitching?”

Neil slurped some of the
soup from his spoon and scowled at Seth. “Who’s bitching? You’re here on
borrowed time, so fuck the fuck off from my husband.”

“You didn’t seem to care
about borrowed time when you ate that tart before lunch.” Seth snarled at Neil.

Zach smiled from above
his plate. “I hope everyone’s enjoying the food. I made a little prayer for
peace at this meal.”

Neil slouched in his
seat. “Really, Zach? Be man enough and throw them out.”

Peter stabbed his soup
with the spoon. “We can’t just do that. Domenico’s hurt.”

“And that is your
problem. You keep collecting strays,” said Neil, eyeing Zach. “From people to
figurines, not to mention Fluffy.”

Domenico stared at Neil,
unsure whether discussing things with this little whiny bitch was worth
spoiling such a good meal.

Zach made pleading eyes
at Neil and tried to change the topic yet again. “I love trying something new.
I don’t think I’ve ever had steak with this mix of herbs.”

Jamie raised his
eyebrows, shoveling the meat down his throat. “A steak is a steak. You can get
something like that at the Brooklyn Steakhouse.”

Seth wanted to burn
Jamie alive with his gaze. Domenico could feel the red aura radiating off him.
“Not like these.”

“I know my steaks. I
prefer barbecue sauce, but you can get these too. They’re called…
‘Herbalicious’ or something like that. Chicks like them, ‘cause they’re thin
and without sauce. Low calorie.”

This was the moment
Jamie the Thick crossed the line. He was handed a carefully prepared home meal,
and he was complaining because he preferred some franchise shit?

“You’re really comparing
those undercooked bits of meat in fatty sauce with proper food? Try a
restaurant in Europe, and you’ll taste real food.”

Jamie pouted. “Oh yeah?
I like good, wholesome American food.”

Domenico let out a
laugh. “Like what? Mac & cheese? Deep fried butter? Fucking s’mores?
‘Wholesome’ and ‘American’ don’t belong in the same sentence,” he said, leaning
back in the chair. “You’re probably the only nation in the world to ever get
chocolate wrong. What was this popular brand called? That shit tastes like
sweetened mud.”

Zach put a hand over his
face, but Jamie almost got up from his chair. “We went to Europe with Neil! You
get half a portion and pay twice as much. What the fuck is up with that, huh?”

Domenico frowned at him.
“Half of the typical plate around here
is
a normal portion. There’s no
reason to pig out during every single meal. And if you need to know, where I’m
from, portion sizes are quite satisfactory.”

Jamie only got more
riled up, despite Neil trying to calm him down. “
Satisfactionary
? Maybe
if you have two! Not like here. You can get a steak, fries, soda, and dessert
for twenty bucks. Doesn’t
that
make you feel at home?”

“Yeah, and eat your
whole daily calorie allowance in one sitting. Great finish of a good day,”
mocked Domenico, finishing his soup.

“I’ve been eating like
this since childhood, and now I’m modeling for Abercrombie. Boom,
motherfucker!” Jamie actually got up and lifted his T-shirt, showing off his
abs.

Domenico waited no
further and picked up that glove. He rose from his seat and pulled off the
giant T-shirt he was wearing, sending it across the room. “You’re pathetic.”

Seth dragged his hands
down his face. “Really?
Really
? Is this lunch, or the Mr. Peter’s
Apartment contest?”

Domenico laughed. “Join
in, they have nothing on us,” he said, gesturing toward Neil, who drilled
little angry holes in Domenico’s chest, right next to the cigarette burn scars
from long ago. “What’s this fairy going to come up with? Here? Nothing but the
freshest beef from your local abattoir.” Domenico gestured down his body with a
small smile.

The scowl on Seth’s face
turned into a dreamy smile as he looked up at Dom. “You remember…”

Domenico patted his
shoulder. “Of course I do. I can taste the difference in the structure of the
meat--” He paused when a piece of smoked salmon hit him in the cheek.

Neil picked up another
one and bit off a piece like a hungering savage. “
Abattoir
? What’s that?
A type of pizza? Maybe that’s the one that actually has something to chew on
instead of raw fucking ham!”

Seth snorted. “There’s a
lot of
raw fucking
in Italy, I suppose.”

“You want that? Go to a
fucking leather bar! It’s minutes away,” growled Neil.

“That your scene?” Domenico
asked with a low laugh and nodded toward Jamie. “I bet he’s squealing like a
little piggy when you fuck him.”

“Like in an
abattoir
,”
Seth suggested with a smirk and cut off a piece of steak.

Jamie’s face went pale.
“At least someone
wants
to fuck me. No one’s gonna touch you with that fucked-up
face of yours.”

Domenico choked, his
lungs constricting as if he were drowning. He needed release. He needed air.
Without thinking, he picked up his empty plate and smashed it against the
stupid smile across the table. When Jamie fell back with the chair, the tension
lifted off Dom’s chest just enough so he could inhale.

Neil screamed and went
to the floor after his husband. “Oh, my God! Jamie! Jamie, are you all right?”
he squealed in panic.

“You fucking dick!”
Jamie yelled. “I think you broke my nose!”

Seth gasped and hit
Dom’s stomach with his elbow. “What the fuck did you do?”

Domenico stared at the
two worms across the table. Zach and Peter were already at the window, staring
at the commotion with their eyes wide open. “Justice,” he muttered and drank
some of the lemon water.

Seth got up quickly, as
stiff as an 80s robot. “Are you done?”

Domenico turned to look
at him. Fire was coursing through his veins, and it felt just right. He was
done with all those idiots. His good looks were chipped, but he would not let
it get him down. He was a man, and masculine beauty lay in more than a nice
face. “Yes.”

“You’re fucking mad! I’m
gonna call the fucking police!” yelled Neil, helping his husband up.

Jamie moaned, holding
his bloodied hand against the center of his face. One stumble to the side was
enough for him to crash against the cupboard containing the porcelain. For a
horribly long moment, Peter’s face turned into a mask of fear, but then it
started raining figurines.

Seth leaped to try to hold
up the cupboard, but it was too late, and all the tiny hands, legs, and heads
smashed against the floor. All Seth managed was to put the cupboard back in
place so it wouldn’t fall on Jamie. Dom was a bit disappointed about that part.

Peter fell to his knees
with the wail of a dying seal. As if the chaos wasn’t enough, the doorbell
rang, and Zach went off to see who it was.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Seth
pleaded, scooting next to him and putting his arm around Peter’s shoulders.

Peter shoved him away,
or rather tried to, and Seth backed away. “Don’t touch me,” he cried
dramatically, scooping up all the porcelain with both hands, like a mother bird
gathering the shells of her eaten children. “It’s been ten years.”

Domenico frowned and
downed his drink. “I do things like this ?” he asked Seth.

Seth sneered at him.
“All too fucking often.”

That was good enough for
Dom.

“I’ll pay for all of
them, Peter,” Seth said to their host.

“What about Jamie’s
face, huh?” Neil snarled, holding a towel to Jamie’s face. “You gonna pay for
that too? Jamie has a photo shoot in two weeks, Seth! I will fucking flay you!”

“Shut up,” Domenico growled,
walking around the table, pushed by a low rumbling somewhere in his body.
Somewhere he still didn’t have access to. “He was bullying me,” he said, nodding
toward Peter. “I have a witness, who doesn’t appreciate your boy destroying the
figurine collection.”

Peter just kept crying,
so Dom took that as a sign of agreement.

Zach rushed into the
room and looked at Seth as if he’d just seen satanic missionaries at his door.
“It’s the police.”

“Fuck, fuck! Hold them
up,” Seth hissed and turned to Neil. “I know it’s fucked-up, but you need to
stay quiet.” He reached for the pocket in his pants and pulled out a wad of
cash. “You can have this, but just shut it and keep them at the door. Can you
do that, Neil?”

Neil stared at the
money, wide-eyed, no doubt thinking about all the Apple products he could ever
want.

“No, he can’t,” growled
Jamie, but Neil put a hand over his mouth and patted his cheek with the notes
he took from Seth.

“So, what did I see?”
asked Neil.

Domenico picked up the
two tarts remaining on the table and bit into one of them as Seth pushed him
toward the corridor.

“You didn’t see us.
Pete, thank you for everything.”

Peter choked on his
sobs, trying to put together two pieces of a porcelain shepherdess that looked
like it had run into a very bad magician or an even worse saw. Domenico sighed,
winked at the dog, and limped down the corridor. The door into the staircase
was closed but if the police were after them, they needed to get their shit
together fast.

“I’ll take everything.”
Seth was right behind him. “You just put some dressing on your face and wear a
balaclava over it.” The moment he said that, he pushed a purple balaclava with
cat ears into Dom’s hand.

Domenico stared at the
ugly thing. “Do I look like a woman? That’s hardly inconspicuous,” he whispered
as they walked into the bedroom.

Neil was talking loudly
in the background, but it wasn’t Domenico’s concern. They had a gun. If the
police wanted to take them, they could always use it.