“We’re all in danger, yes,” Cold said, his thumb moving along Jimmy’s jaw. “Until the Luchesis are destroyed and Stephen Blalock is taken care of, we will not be safe.”
“What about the trial?”
“Let me take care of that,” Cold soothed. “You worry too much, Jimmy. My plan is working out just fine. The trial is the key to everything. Trust me.”
“That’s what you always say,” Jimmy grumbled.
“Maybe you should try it instead of paying me lip service,” Cold fussed, raising his hand to smack Jimmy’s ass again.
“Ow!” Jimmy grinned and wiggled his hips. “Again, sir? Please? Maybe it’ll help me trust you.”
Cold licked his lips very purposely and smirked slyly. “Are you trying to get something started, Mr. Poe?”
“God, I freakin’ hope so.”
Chapter Nine
Despite the threatof danger all around them, Jimmy was happy. It was easy to forget the rest of the world when he was losing his mind in Cold’s bed. With no classes or exams to worry about, Jimmy spent his evenings testing the boundaries of Cold’s impressive virility. Despite the years between them, Cold effortlessly kept Jimmy in a constant passionate haze while they recovered from the accident.
Jimmy checked in often with his father and Maury, both of whom were more than a bit concerned about the current situation. Maury had accepted the family dinner invitation, but only because he wanted to see for himself that Jimmy was really okay, and he certainly had some new colorful threat for Cold prepared.
The aches from the wreck began to fade, and Jimmy’s bruises were turning yellow and green as they vanished away. Cold’s were taking longer to heal, and Doc Queen would be coming by soon to check his stitches.
Jimmy avoided the news all week to maintain his blissful ignorance, but his happy bubble was popped after he found a photograph of him and Charlie in one of Jerry’s tabloid magazines. It had been taken the day Mr. Waugh had died and the headline was repulsive:
Mafia Twink Cheating on His Boss with Brit Hottie
Cold thought it was funny.
Jimmy did not.
He promptly threw the paper in the kitchen trash despite Jerry’s pouting.
“Anything else you’d like to chuck out in the garbage?” Cold asked dryly, trying to hide a smile. “Or are you going to finish your wine?”
“I don’t want it,” Jimmy replied stubbornly. “I’m tired of this. There was another article in there that was talking about you and Marco! ‘Steamy forbidden mafia love’ or some crap! How can people read that shit?”
