Hitman's Holiday

by Alexa Land

  I didn’t run across the lobby when I got to the ground floor, but I certainly didn’t stroll, either. I flipped open my phone and hit a number the moment I got outside, and when my employer answered I hissed, “What the fuck, Stella?”

  “Andreo, what’s wrong? Couldn’t you get the coin?”

  “I got it, but he fucking came home just as I was getting on the elevator! The whole point of doing this now, in broad daylight, was because you were sure he’d be out! He had some huge guy with him too, he looked like a professional wrestler. Do you know what they would have done to me if they’d found me in Carrera’s apartment?”

  “Shit, I’m sorry. Jimmy spent every Saturday afternoon at his golf club for the past year. I have no idea why today would be different.”

  I hurried across the sidewalk and into the street, and stuck my hand out just as a black cab rounded the corner. It stopped in front of me, and I hopped in and told the driver the address of my hotel. Then I said into the phone, more quietly now that I had an audience, “Shit, Stella, the alarm’s still off. I forgot about it. He’ll notice that first thing.”

  “It’s fine, Andreo. He’ll just think he forgot to set it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” she said. “We went to great lengths to make sure he wouldn’t know he was robbed, because if he ever realized the value of what he had, he’d try to steal it right back from me. Except for the alarm, you left everything just like you found it, yes?”

  “Yeah, but still. A suspicious stranger on his floor and a disabled alarm are going to raise red flags.”

  “Sure, but so what? He has no idea who you are, and now you see why I didn’t go in and get it myself. Even if he figures out his apartment was broken into, he can’t trace it back to me, which means he can’t find you, either.”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I just made another mistake,” I told her, lowering my voice even more and sliding back in my seat, away from the cab driver. “I hailed a taxi directly in front of his building. What if he saw me from his apartment? He could track me down at my hotel by getting the information from the cab company.”

  “Okay, now you’re being paranoid. Remember, he doesn’t know you took anything! You left the bracelet just like you found it, yes?”

  “Yes. And you’re right.” I took a few deep breaths and said, “I don’t have the stomach for this line of work. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Not like this, I can assure you. When I stole that coin in the first place, I’d already gained the trust of the mobster who owned it. All I had to do was swap it for a fake. Easy.”

  “Why didn’t you sell it? Why hide it in a piece of jewelry?” I realized I’d gotten a little louder when I noticed the cabbie watching me in the rearview mirror.

  “It was too hot. Still is. That coin’s quite rare, and the mobster I took it from stole it too, so it was impossible to liquidate it without attracting attention to myself. Until I figured out what to do with it, I figured the best idea was to hide it in plain sight. Little did I know my moronic ex-boyfriend was going to empty my jewelry box on his way out the door. I mean, I knew he was a thief and a scumbag, but come on. That’s pretty low, even for him.”

  “What the hell did you ever see in that guy?”

  Stella exclaimed, “He’s hung like a horse! And he knew how to use that monster schlong, let me tell you. My God, this one time, he—”

  I interrupted her by saying, “I’m so sorry I asked.” Then I changed the subject and told her, “Next time, count me out for any random B and E jobs that come up. This day has been a little too exciting. You made it sound so easy when you were pitching it to me. Stroll in, make the switch, stroll out.”

  “It should have been a cake walk! I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing coming home at this hour. But you had to know there would be a little inherent risk, given the size of the paycheck you’ll be collecting when you bring me the coin. Plus, it’s good practice. That little not-quite-legal antique export business you’re trying to get off the ground is going to require you to get your hands dirty from time to time, mark my words. Not to mention the fact that your fat paycheck for this job is going to go a long way toward launching that business, am I right?”

  The money was actually going to my brother’s tuition. He had several scholarships, but they didn’t cover everything. I didn’t bother to correct her, though. Most people didn’t even know I had a brother. My father had a lot of enemies, so we kept Luca a secret to keep him safe.

  I told her, “That wouldn’t mean very much if they’d gotten home a minute sooner and were removing my spleen with a melon baller right now.”

  “But they didn’t,” she said. “Besides, you’re built like a brick shit house! What are you, six-six? You would have been able to get away.”

  “Not if they had guns.”

  “You’re not in America, Andreo, you’re in the UK. Nobody has guns!” I was willing to bet someone forgot to tell the British criminals that. “You need to relax. Go have a drink. I’ll see you Monday when you get back to Rome. You’re not going to freak out about getting the coin through customs, are you?”

  “Nah. Operation Douchebag is pretty infallible.” I’d brought along a cheap, flashy suit, bought a ticket in coach, and planned to wear the coin like a medallion on a thick gold chain around my neck, hiding it in plain sight the way Stella had. I was still a bit nervous, but no way would anyone at the airport suspect a guy like that would be smuggling a coin worth a small fortune.

  *****

  When I returned to the hotel, Luca was right where I’d left him, sitting cross-legged on his twin bed reading a thick textbook. At least the stack of dirty dishes on the room service tray meant he’d eaten. “Come on,” I told him. “I need a drink, and you need to quit studying.”

  “How did your business meeting go?” I obviously hadn’t told him the truth about why I’d come to London.

  “It’s two p.m. and I’m ready to hit the bottle. That should answer your question.”

  He got up and said, “I’ll get my coat.”

  *****

  Luca made the mistake of trying to match me drink for drink, but since he weighed a fraction of what I did, he was pretty thoroughly wasted by a little before seven that night. I helped him back to the hotel, and after he fell across his bed, I pulled his sneakers off and draped a blanket over him. When I sat down on the other bed and started to take my shoes off, he asked, “Whatcha doing?” His face was partly mashed into the pillow, so the words came out garbled.

  “Getting comfortable.”

  “No. Uh uh. You wanted to see Guy Fucks Day. It’s just getting going. There’s a park right across the street.” He pointed in the wrong direction. “Go see the bun fires.”

  “There’s no need. If you’re in for the night, then I’ll stay in, too.”

  “I’m gonna be asleep in like, two seconds. Go. Have fun. Use the same speech on yourself that you used on me to get me to come to London with you. I don’t remember what you said, but apparently it was convincing.”

  “But I really don’t—” His snore cut me off. Yup, that had been about two seconds. I put my shoe back on and murmured, “Well, when not in Rome,” before heading to the door.

  Outside, the atmosphere was festive. I crossed the street to the little park and went in through a gate in the tall iron fence. An inadvisably huge pile of lumber, crates and other flammable things had been set up right in the center of the park. Apparently no one seemed concerned that several very large, delightfully flammable trees stood just a few feet away.

  Kids ran around with sparklers while families joked and chatted and failed to supervise them. “Oh good, children with burning things,” I said under my breath as I took my place at the edge of the crowd.

  I stuck my hand in my pants pocket and wrapped my fingers around the coin. This would be the worst time ever to get pickpocketed, not that they normally went for fron
t pockets. I’d kept it on me because it seemed more secure than stashing it someplace random. Even the hotel safe seemed a bit dodgy, judging by the slacker at the front desk.

  A family to my left broke into song, and soon everyone joined in. Well, everyone but me. A couple men lit the bonfire, and it went up surprisingly quickly. The pile had to be ten feet high, and the flames shot up several feet above it. The crowd cheered and applauded, and a voice with an American accent to my right asked, “Now what?”

  I said, mostly to myself since I didn’t think the man had been talking to me, “Now we wait for the trees to ignite, and for everyone to run screaming like Godzilla just breathed fire on Tokyo.”

  “Well, that would liven things up considerably.”

  I turned in the direction of the voice and my breath caught. The American was tall and lean with jet black hair and dark eyes that reflected the firelight. A playful smile curved his full lips. He was probably about my age, mid-twenties, and while he wasn’t a pretty boy, he was something much better. He was instantly fascinating.

  He brushed his overgrown bangs from his eyes with a graceful hand, and the sleeve of his black wool overcoat slipped down to reveal a surprisingly bohemian glass bead bracelet, which seemed out of place with his tailored black dress shirt and pants. It made me want to know more. Much more. “I hate to spoil the surprise,” he said, leaning in close, his eyes sparkling mischievously, “but I believe that pile of wood is going to continue to burn and burn until it no longer can, at which point it’ll go out. Since I just ruined the ending for you, do you want to find a pub and have a drink with me, rather than sticking around and discovering I’m right?”

  “Wait, are you hitting on me?” That was an utterly graceless reply, but I really wasn’t used to people being that forward, outside of a gay bar.

  He tilted his head and smiled at me. “Would you like me to?”

  I stammered, “I…I mean, I….”

  “Relax,” he said. “For now, it’s just a drink.” He lightly ran his hand down the sleeve of my trench coat and dropped his voice to a low purr as he leaned close. “After that, all bets are off.”

  I just stood there dumbly and stared at him. How did he know I was gay? What about me was possibly putting out that signal? Or did he just randomly hit on everyone in the hope of lucking out one time in ten? Even though it was 2005 and a whole new millennium and all of that, being so forward still seemed like a good way to get punched in the jaw more often than not.

  He leaned against me, ran a hand inside my coat and lightly caressed my waist as he whispered, his breath warm on my ear, “I didn’t know you were gay, in case you’re wondering. You’re not flashing a beacon or anything. I’d only hoped, because you’re sexy as hell and I’d love to wind up in your bed tonight.”

  “Dio mio,” I muttered in Italian as my cock twitched. I looked around quickly, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to us.

  Since he was leaning against me, he felt my growing erection and added, “Or we could just skip the drink. Hell, we could skip the bed, too. You could just take me to the nearest dark alley and fuck me.”

  I pulled back to look at him and he lowered his gaze, as if he was embarrassed by his own boldness. He’d been trying to project such brash confidence, but the vulnerability he showed in that moment spoke volumes. I reached up and gently caressed his cheek, suddenly not caring who saw us or what they thought. He seemed surprised when he met my gaze again, a question in his dark eyes. “Come on,” I said softly. “Let’s go for a walk.” He slipped his hand in mine wordlessly, and we left the park.

  The entire city smelled like smoke, and a haze hung in the air. A loud noise went off, and fireworks exploded in the night sky. The city was crackling with energy, and the streets were crowded. I barely noticed any of it. All I could think about was the man at my side and the way his hand felt in mine.

  We didn’t talk. There was too much going on around us. But walking with him felt good. Comfortable. I didn’t even worry about what people might say about two men holding hands in public. Besides, everyone was far too caught up in their celebrations to worry about what we were doing.

  After a while, we entered Hyde Park. It was fairly busy too, but less so than the city streets. I was desperate to get him somewhere private, and of course my hotel room wasn’t an option with Luca passed out there. But then I spotted just what I was looking for.

  The classical building sat by itself in a field, and was little more than a roof and walls with three open, arched entryways. I remembered it from a visit years ago, and seemed to recall it was named something like Queen Caroline’s Temple. I couldn’t quite guess its original purpose (why build a permanently open building?) but I had a very specific use in mind for it that evening.

  I led my companion into the larger archway in the center, and we both ducked out of sight. I pressed him to the wall and in the next instant, we were all over each other. He pulled me against him as he crushed his mouth to mine.

  The kiss was electric. Every part of me came to life, my heart pounding and my cock swelling as I clutched his slender body. He wrapped a leg around one of mine, practically climbing me, and ran a frenzied series of kisses down my throat, nipping me slightly along the way.

  He pulled at my clothes, and when he got my zipper down, he slid his hand into my boxers and grasped my cock. I was already painfully hard and I kissed his earlobe before whispering in his ear, “I need to be inside you.”

  He spun around immediately, facing the wall, his breath coming in short, fast gasps. As I fumbled in my wallet for a condom and a packet of lube, he took off his overcoat and threw it aside, then unfastened his belt and trousers with shaking hands. It was fairly dark in our little alcove, but I could just make out the smooth, round curve of his butt when he pushed his pants and briefs to his knees and leaned forward, his hands braced against the wall.

  While he’d been doing all of that, I’d managed to get the condom on and lubed up. I rubbed my still-slick fingers between his ass cheeks and over his little hole, then pushed a finger inside him. He let out a little cry, and I withdrew my finger quickly. But then he looked back at me over his shoulder and said in a rough whisper, “Please don’t stop.”

  “Are you sure?”

  When he nodded, I spread his ass with one hand and quickly worked a little lube into him. I wiped my fingers on a handkerchief, then grasped my achingly hard cock and lined it up with his opening. When I pushed forward, I met with resistance. But after a moment, his body yielded just enough and I slid into him with a low moan.

  He was incredibly tight, and the tiniest whimper slipped from him as I pushed inside him. I leaned forward so my face was next to his and asked, “Are you okay?” He nodded once, avoiding eye contact, but I took his chin and turned his face toward me. I could barely see him in the dim light as I asked him, “Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?”

  “Oh God, please don’t stop,” he whispered. “I need this. Please fuck me.” I nuzzled his cheek and kissed it, then began moving in him, carefully at first. When I felt him relax slightly and open up, I began thrusting harder, grasping his narrow hips.

  After a while, he relaxed even more and began to moan softly as he rocked back to meet each thrust. Only then did I let myself go. Fireworks went off in the distance, drowning out the sound of my body slamming against his as I fucked him. He felt incredible, so tight and warm around my cock, and I cried out as I pounded into him. I didn’t care if anyone heard, not that anyone was close to that odd little building. All I cared about was that moment and the sweet, sexy man giving himself to me.

  I reached around to jerk him off, but when I touched his hard cock, he quickly grabbed my hand and pulled it up to his chest. Then he just held it there, balled up against his racing heart. I was too far gone to argue. I just kept driving myself into him up to my balls, wrapping my free arm around his waist and pulling him onto me as I took him.

  My orgasm tore from me, and I yelled and pu
shed myself into him as deep as I could, shooting again and again, clutching him in my arms. I felt his entire body absorb each thrust like a shockwave. He murmured, “Fuck yes,” and grabbed my arms, holding on tight as we both rode it out.

  I was shaking by the time I finished, and held on to him for an extra minute as we both caught our breath. “What about you?” I managed when I could form words again. “You didn’t finish.”

  “That’s not what I needed,” he said quietly. “I just needed you in me.”

  I kissed his shoulder through his shirt, and held the base of the condom as I slid from his body. As soon as I stepped back, he pulled up his briefs and pants and zipped up. I shucked the condom and tied it off, then dropped it into a fast food bag in the corner for later disposal. While I was pulling up and zipping my pants, he grabbed his overcoat from the ground, shook it off, and said, “Well, see you.”

  He took a couple steps away from me, into the open archway, but I said, “Wait,” as I followed him and caught his arm. “Stay with me just a little longer. Please?”

  I could see him a bit better now that we were out of the dark corner. His eyes searched my face for a long moment. It seemed like he was trying to make up his mind about something. I was pretty sure he was going to turn and leave, so when he stepped forward and rubbed his forehead against my shoulder, it was a pleasant surprise. I hugged him and made a feeble attempt at humor as I told him, “Come back to the dark side.”

  He let me lead him back to our corner, and I sat on the ground and leaned against the wall, then pulled him down on top of me. He straddled my thighs and his fingertips lightly traced my features in the darkness. “What’s your name?” I asked quietly.