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Jordan tried to quash his curiosity. Curiosity could be very dangerous when it came to this man, if Ferrara was correct about him.

The sound of footsteps made him wrench his gaze from Damiano. A woman came into view. All she had on her was a short, half-sheer black robe, her long red hair nearly reaching her barely covered ass. She said something in Italian, her tone unmistakably flirtatious.

Damiano opened his eyes and looked at her impassively. He said something, his deep voice not betraying the content of his words at all. He certainly didn’t sound like he was flirting back.

But the woman smiled and, throwing her robe off, sauntered into the pool, completely naked.

Jordan certainly appreciated the view, but he found his gaze inexplicably drawn back to Damiano. Something about this man was like the gravitational pull of a black hole: it was so difficult to tear one’s gaze from him. His sheer presence was incredible, strong enough to distract a man from the sight of a naked, gorgeous woman.

Damiano moved to the shallow end of the pool and leaned back against the stairs, still half-submerged in the water. When the woman knelt in front of him and kissed his muscular stomach, nuzzling the dark trail of hair leading downward to a big, half-hard cock, Jordan told himself to look away. He told himself to get the hell out of there. He’d never been a voyeur.

But his feet didn’t seem to listen to the commands of his brain at all. He watched, transfixed, as Damiano’s face became tenser, his muscles flexing and stiffening as the woman pleasured him. If Jordan didn’t know better, he’d think she was causing him pain—he was so rigid and weirdly still, his face betraying none of the pleasure he ought to be feeling.

Jordan tried to look away, very much aware that it was creepy to stare at a man while someone sucked that man’s cock. But he couldn’t.

The woman made a sound, and Jordan finally wrenched his gaze away to look at her. She was moaning around the cock in her mouth, choking on it as she struggled to take it all. She pulled up for breath, revealing the thick, long cock in her hand, glistening at the fat tip. It was very veiny. Obscenely big, like something from porn.

Jordan moistened his lips. He blamed his reluctant fascination with cocks on Bella for all the threesomes she had talked him into while they had been married. He hadn’t had a cock in his mouth since before their divorce. He might have liked sucking cock on occasion, but he was hardly going to go looking for one. He wasn’t gay.

The woman swallowed the cock again, and Jordan returned his gaze to Damiano’s face.

He found him looking straight at him.

Jordan froze.

And then he turned, and all but ran away.

His heart pounding, he returned to his room and leaned heavily against the door, his breath coming in short gasps.

He crawled into his bed, the sheets cool against his overheated skin.

Fuck.

Maybe once he returned home, he should go looking for a cock to suck, if he got so worked up from just looking at that creep’s cock.

It had been a really nice cock, though.

Jordan scowled and, yanking his shorts down, jerked off, without thinking about anything in particular. He just wanted release. He was wound up too tightly. It was fast and rough, and his orgasm was unsatisfying, barely enough to take the edge off, the tension under his skin still there. It was frustrating as hell; Jordan felt like punching someone.

After a few more hours of tossing and turning, he managed to fall asleep.

His dreams were strange.

Skin. So much skin. It was that gorgeous redhead that he’d seen with Damiano. Her full breasts bounced enticingly as she was fucked hard, tan male hands bruising her hips and holding her legs spread. A cock pistoned in and out of her, thick, long, and veiny. She was moaning continuously, as if that cock was the best thing she’d ever felt. Gray eyes glared down at her—him?—and Jordan shivered and reached up, grabbing the muscular shoulders as—

The dream changed.

Jordan was kneeling on the dirty floor of a stall in a public bathroom. He was sucking on the fat cock peeking out of the hole in the wall. A glory hole. He was sucking cock at a glory hole. He was moaning around the thick shaft, enjoying how good it felt in his mouth. Just some anonymous, no-strings-attached fun. He didn’t care who the cock belonged to. All he wanted was this cock. This thick, delicious cock.

But then the wall between the stalls disappeared and there were hands on his head, strong and hard, yanking him down onto that cock, fucking him brutally, forcing him to take it. Gagging, Jordan looked up.

Gray eyes locked with his.


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