Danny heaved a sigh of relief as he turned on the shower. He held his hand under the water, trying to get it to the right temperature. A part of him knew Paul was catering to him and his battered soul by agreeing to let Danny fuss over him, not the other way around. He may not have played along for his father, but he was playing along for him and Danny was too grateful and relieved to call him on it.
It really wasn’t his place to call Paul broken.
Between the two of them, Paul was more stable and together than Danny could ever hope to be.
Chapter Two
Two years later
“When are you gonna come to work for me full-time?”
“Never.” Danny snorted, tugging on his jeans. He made a point to look away from the bed. Now that Danny was sated, the occupant didn’t look as good as he had before their interlude. He never did. “I do have standards.”
“Bullshit.” Tony laughed at the notion. “The only standards you got is a hard-on for that pretty-boy football player you’re always hanging around with. You’d rather be broke than piss him off.”
“Pretty much,” Danny said, rather than denying it. “He’s the voice of my conscience and I’m probably better for it.”
“I think you oughta find a different voice for your conscience. My voice.”
“Right, that’s a great plan,” Danny said dryly as he sat on the bed, pulling on his socks and boots.
“My voice would make sure you were kept in the style you want to become accustomed to instead of being a love-sick, worthless bum who works for his father.”
Danny rolled his eyes, letting the insult go. “I’m not selling drugs to kids, asshole. I’d rather be a bum.”
Tony gave a snort of disbelief as he rolled out of bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom in the large hotel room where they’d agreed to meet. One of the few benefits to fucking inside the mafia—fantastic accommodations for casual sex.
“Your pretty boy isn’t as innocent as you think he is,” Tony called from the bathroom over the sound of him taking a piss.
Danny pulled a face of disgust, hating Tony all of a sudden and, more so, hating himself for being there with him. Standards, like hell. If Danny had them he wouldn’t be fucking the spoiled, corrupt son of a major mafia boss. “Ton, I’m taking off. I got shit to do besides you.”
“You coming tomorrow?” Tony asked, walking out of the bathroom buck-fucking naked. His gaze ran over Danny leeringly. “I’ll pay you extra if you do.”
Danny grabbed his shirt, tugged it on, avoiding Tony’s eyes. “Don’t you have better muscle than me for your little pet projects? Can’t you borrow real thugs from your father?”
“No.” He laughed, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t let just anyone fuck me. It takes a scary son of a bitch to get me to take it up the ass.”
“You love taking it up the ass. You’d give it to anyone with a pulse,” Danny said bitterly. His wallet was decidedly empty, his bank account even more so considering it had been in the negative for the past week. With a sinking heart he realized he would rather kick the shit out of some of Tony’s less-than-honest employees than ask his father for a dime. “Are you sure they’re stealing from you?”
“Yes,” Tony said without hesitation “Arty’s got a boy on the inside, says they’re robbing me blind. I’m not asking you to kill ’em. I know that’s not your style. Just scare ’em a little. You’ll love it. They’re real soulless bastards.”
“Takes one to know one I guess,” Danny said, miserable with his life. “Whatever, fine, I’ll be there and the extra you plan on paying me better be currency.”
Tony grinned. “It’s currency in some countries.”
“I want cash,” Danny said, rather than taking the bait. “I consider fucking you a charity, not a benefit.”
Tony laughed again, sounding thoroughly amused. “You got a serious case of the crazy. You should kiss the ground I walk on for letting you fuck me.”
“I got news for you.” Danny leaned in closer to whisper to Tony, speaking slowly. “It’s not that great.”
“Get the fuck outta here.” Tony shoved him, but Danny was nimble and didn’t lose his footing. He stood his ground, arching an eyebrow at Tony, who sulked in a rare show of petulance as he reached out and poked Danny’s chest sharply. “And I got news for you, smartass. That pretty boy you’re pining for, he ain’t that sweet. I saw him at one of Arty’s parties last week.”
“Fuck you,” Danny said in disbelief. “He wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those parties.”