Worth the Price Read online

  “Gentlemen, would you be interested in ordering dessert?” asked a waitress. “Our cake of the day is tiramisu.”

  Lex didn’t answer immediately. On one hand, this surreal evening had to end. Still, he didn’t want it to. This was the closest thing he had to a date in what seemed like forever. God, he was pathetic, but he didn’t care. Meeting someone new, other than Dom, was supposed to be a game changer, a way for him to move on from the past.

  “I’m diabetic.”

  Lex wished he hid the disappointment on his face better, because he never could hide his emotions. Seemingly picking up on his emotions, Frank regarded him. “I’d take a café latte, but how about you, Lex?”

  “Um, tiramisu sounds great.” Lex took a sip of his glass. Discovering it was empty made him grimace. Why did Frank unsettle him so much? Was Frank doing this simply because there were no other tables, or was he just being nice?

  “Tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours.” Frank placed his fingers over Lex’s hand, his hand warm. They were unexpectedly rough and lined with calluses. Those hands belonged to a man who knew the value of hard work. The mystery thickened.

  “Why are you doing this?” Lex whispered, avoiding Frank’s gaze.

  “Because I love the duck here and you haven’t told me to fuck off?”

  Lex looked up. “You’re being too nice. I bet once you realized my date stood me up, you decided to take one for the team and play nice to a guy like me.”

  “A guy like you? What the fuck are you talking about? This bastard Daniel seemed stupid enough to miss out on this date.”

  When Frank said those words, they sounded like a kind of threat. Lex suppressed a shiver. There was it again, that strange suspicion Frank was someone Lex had no business tangling with. Reaching for his hand, Lex stared, stunned when Frank placed a kiss on his wrist, right over his racing pulse. The mere brush of Frank’s lips sent a tingle down his spine.

  This was crazy. Lex hadn’t had a date for such a long time he must be imagining how crazily his body reacted to a complete stranger. Things like this only happened in the gay romance novels he loved to read, not in real life. Seemingly sensing his apprehension, Frank pulled away.

  Lex finished his dessert in a hurry, slowing down when Frank asked, “Are you rushing for something?”

  He used the first excuse that came to mind. “Patches, my Welsh Corgi. I forgot to feed him.”

  “Well, who knew I would be jealous of a dog?”

  After dessert, Lex began to reach for the bill, but Frank touched his hand. “Let me.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Yes, you can. I insisted on sitting here and interrupting your evening.”

  “I enjoyed myself,” Lex muttered under his breath. He didn’t think Frank heard the remark.

  “Good. I enjoyed myself too.” Frank used cash instead of a credit card—why that particular detail stood out, Lex didn’t know. They headed outside now.

  “Well, time to part,” Lex awkwardly began.

  “Is your car nearby?”

  “I walked.”

  “Then let me drive you home. The streets aren’t safe around this time of the night.” Lex began to refuse, but Frank held open the nearest car door of a black Mercedes-Benz. When did Frank move?

  Lex slid in, nervous as Frank took the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Don’t worry,” Frank said. “I’m not some kind of serial killer, if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise all I want to do is drive you home. Deal?”

  “I don’t think that,” Lex said quickly. “Sorry. You’ve been nothing but an amazing date tonight. I’m just paranoid by nature.”

  “It never hurts to be careful.” Frank started the engine.

  Lex blurted out his address to reassure Frank he wasn’t that scared of him.

  “Aren’t you afraid your car will get stolen?” Oh, bloody hell. Lex seemed on a roll to make the evening worse. Instead of looking annoyed, Frank appeared amused by his question.

  “Not at all, most people are wise enough not to commit such a foolish mistake.”

  Unsettled, Lex stared out the windows. Most of the denizens of the night had come out to play. Frank was right. This late, the streets weren’t entirely safe and police patrol cars were nowhere to be seen. Frank’s answer sounded like a threat, but he had a feeling a man like Frank wasn’t kidding around. It was a short drive back to his neighborhood, but he couldn’t stand the silence.

  “Are you part of the local mafia?”

  Another laugh, deep and dangerous, slipped out of the Frank’s throat. “Close enough, I suppose. Terrified?”

  Was that supposed to be a joke? Frank’s expression might look the same, but he could sense something else. The mood in the car shifted. The tension rocketed. Lex shook his head. “I haven’t crossed your bad side, right? Sorry. Forget I asked.”

  “A wise decision. People who get too close to me…” Frank trailed off. “Ah, here we are.”

  Relieved to see his familiar neighborhood, Lex unbuckled his seat belt. Frank touched his hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “Do you believe in lucky accidents, Lex?”

  “I don’t know,” Lex muttered, flustered. Frank’s hand on his felt so warm, inviting. Maybe this was what it felt like, when a predator lured his prey into his den, the prey being unaware of his surroundings. Oh, great. Lex’s imagination was getting the better of him.

  “I don’t, usually. Good-bye, Lex.”

  Goodbye. Not good night. Unsettled, Lex tugged his hand back, about to reach for the car door. Oh, screw this. If this was really farewell, he should break out of character, do something daring. Lex turned, leaned over, and snuck a kiss on Frank’s mouth.

  Okay. Wow. That had felt like a rush. Lex never did anything like that before. Now to make a quick exit before Frank realized what happened. Too late. Frank closed a hand over his wrist, his grip bruising and his eyes unreadable.

  “Do you think you can get away with something like that?”

  “Um. Sorry?”

  “You don’t sound the least bit apologetic.” Frank tugged him close. Lex ended up back where he started. Their noses touched, so did their foreheads. Frank’s gaze took on an almost feral look. Releasing his wrist, Frank’s hand moved to the back of his neck and pulled him for a proper and serious kiss.

  My God. What a kiss. Frank’s mouth descended on his, all hunger and ferocity, demanding a response for him. Insides turning to jelly, Lex kissed back. Tongues and teeth tangled. Lex yielded, opening his mouth wide so Frank could deepen the kiss.

  Too lost in the amazing sensation, Lex didn’t realize Frank other hand managed to work the button of his jeans, unzipping him. Frank pushed a hand past his trousers and curled it around his dick.

  Lex pulled his mouth away, panting. “W-what are you doing?”

  “You’re so tense. I’m helping you relax.”

  “We’re in public.”

  “You aren’t telling me the right words, Lex. Tell me to stop and I will,” Frank said simply.

  Lex didn’t say stop.

  Frank began gliding his hand up and down. Already at half-mast, it didn’t take long for Lex’s cock to thicken under those rough and callused fingers. How could another hand giving him a hand job seem so erotic? Back in his bed, it never felt like this. It was so hot, having another man hold his dick captive.

  Groaning, Lex shifted his hips, and started thrusting into Frank’s waiting hand like some kind of horny bastard who lacked control. Whatever would Frank think of him?

  On second thought, Lex didn’t care. Fuck it, this was one time, and he was so close to shooting. Never mind the mess he would make.

  Frank thumbed away the pre-cum on his tip and used it as lubrication for the rest of Lex’s dick.

  “Look at that gorgeous cock,” Frank observed.

  Lex couldn’t believe he’d just complimented his dick. During their conversation in the restaurant, Frank always appeared c
losed off, well put together. Now, though, he could see Frank’s pupils dilating.

  There was something other than mild interest there—deeper and darker emotions that called to Lex. Having another man, not just any random guy, but Frank holding his dick captive, spoke to him on a different kind of level. Never before was Lex so turned on.

  “Please,” he uttered, certain he wouldn’t last any longer.

  “Not yet. Hold it back for me.” Frank slowed down. The torture nearly killed Lex. Breathing hard, Lex whispered the word again. This time, a knowing glint appeared in Frank’s gaze. “Go ahead. Come all over my fingers.”

  Frank’s permission was the only thing he needed, it seemed. Head reeling, the pressure building inside Lex broke open. He came hard and long, strings of his cum coating Frank’s fingers. The other man lifted his wet fingers to his lips and began to lick, looking thoughtful.

  Stunned, Lex stared, the sight of Frank cleaning his own fingers like some kind of predatory cat ripped him away from post-orgasm bliss. Frank must have noticed him looking, because he smiled and held out his digits to Lex. By reflex, Lex leaned forward, tongue darting out to catch the last droplets. He could taste his need combined with Frank’s.

  “Nicely done,” Frank murmured softly.

  There it was again, the predatory look that excited and scared Lex at once. Suddenly, Lex had trouble pushing air into his lungs. Lex fumbled for the car lock, missing it a couple of times. Not saying anything, Frank unlocked the door for him. Lex stumbled out, nearly caught in his seat belt.

  Three attempts did the trick. Stumbling out, Lex felt a little dizzy, drunk with what, Lex had no idea. He drank a little of the wine Frank ordered. While he seldom drank, even a bit of alcohol went right to his system. That was it. Being drunk explained why he felt so… weird and unlike himself.

  The car window lowered.

  “It was nice meeting you, Lex,” Frank called out, before raising the window again. Lex stood on the sidewalk, watching Frank’s car disappear around the bend.

  Chapter Three

  After his accidental meeting with Lex, Frank’s entire week turned sour. He couldn’t focus on his pending assignments, much less focus on anything else. It was dangerous, given he brushed with death on a frequent basis.

  Alone in his apartment, Frank paced back and forth. His chosen wine of the night remained untouched, although he sorely needed a drink. Never wise to pump alcohol into his system before a job, though.

  Frank looked at his wall instead. The symmetrical arrangement of his favorite guns and knives always calmed him. He touched the handles, brushing a finger across the sleek muzzles. Frank spent plenty of time caring for his babies.

  Small wonder Frank had no time for dates. Between his demanding job and making sure he remained alive by having the right gear—Frank had no patience for a relationship. Discreet hookups sated his needs… until now.

  When he wandered into that restaurant, expecting to meet a client, he didn’t count on seeing the lonely soul sitting by himself. Seeing Lex looking forlorn and staring at his plate like he was eating gravel, Frank thought he was finally about to break one of his rules. He never dated a client if possible. It turned out he worried for nothing. Lex was clearly clueless when Frank handed him the card.

  Instead of leaving and contacting his errant client—who delayed their meeting for the third time that month, Frank stayed. He never did that, simply lingered for a decent meal and good conversation. It had been a long time since anyone had made him feel comfortable, human.

  Lex would never know what kind of a gift he’d been. After dinner, Frank told himself to drive Lex back home, nothing more. Their one magical night had come to an end. Frank couldn’t ask Lex out again, couldn’t risk dragging an innocent into his world. God knew it was tempting, especially when he gave Lex a hand job.

  Frank couldn’t get rid of Lex’s sweet compliance or the way Lex’s reaction shone so clearly on his face. That single moment cemented one fact Frank wished he didn’t know—that Lex could be the willing conduit to his needs. He’d done and witnessed plenty of fucked-up things in his life.

  Hell, Frank did plenty of deeds he wasn’t proud of, but he was only good at one thing. Ending people’s lives lost its thrill a long time ago, but it was his job. Not everyone necessarily liked their job, but they still went at it to receive a steady paycheck every month.

  Never mind morals. Frank threw those away a long time ago. He’d severed the good parts of him along with the rest of his emotions…or so he thought.

  Driving away from the one man Frank felt an undeniable attraction to had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Frank had a number of enemies who wanted his head on a platter, but Lex posed the most danger. All it took was a simple action.

  Pick up the phone, drive up to Lex’s address. It was easy. Frank had plenty of connections, a network of sources to tap a wealth of information. Finding out the details of a target, especially a normal guy, wasn’t a problem.

  Frank pulled away from his wall of favorite weapons and took out his phone to review the information he had on Lex Page. The man didn’t have a police record, not even a late parking ticket. In other words, Frank might have all the basic details. He knew where Lex was born and Lex’s living next of kin, but nothing of real interest. Window dressing.

  His phone vibrated in his hand. Seeing the Organization’s number, he sighed. Delaying a job wouldn’t do him any good. The same cheerful female voice spoke on the other end. Cassie. She was always named Cassie, even though they replaced the secretaries when they didn’t work out.

  “Wolfe, we missed your first report. Have you sighted the target?”

  Oh, right. Frank shouldn’t be skulking in his apartment. He should be out there, stalking his target, doing the job he was handsomely paid for.

  “Soon,” he promised Cassie.

  She asked for more details. By the time Frank ended the call he finished suiting up and packed all his gear. A hunt might help take off the edge. Help him forget about Lex Page.

  ****

  His latest assignment didn’t do jack shit. Mood grim, Frank called the disposal team and stayed behind—something he didn’t do on general principle. Once his bullet found its way into his target, Frank considered his job done. Target eliminated. Move on to the next one. Why he lingered, he had no clue.

  The disposal team arrived fifteen minutes after his call, exactly as promised. The men appeared surprised by his presence, but only for a brief moment. They exchanged nods. Frank personally knew other assassins who savored every moment of their kill. Those types irked Frank. He nursed a cigarette.

  The two men put the corpse in a body bag and in the back of their truck. Deed done, they left, quick and professional. Frank blew out a cloud of smoke.

  “What do you want, Wicked?”

  The other assassin crept out of his hiding place, jumping from the second-floor window above the alley where Frank stood. Frank knew he had company the moment he started stalking his target. He wouldn’t go as far as to call the other assassin his friend. Few earned that label in their line of work.

  Wicked was exactly the sort Frank despised. For some reason, Wicked started following him around over the past two weeks, wondering why Frank had one of the highest kill counts in the Organization.

  It wasn’t rocket science, Frank explained. Efficient, fast, and painless kills had been his signature. Wicked was the exact opposite. The other killer relished in his victim’s pain. The Organization had strict rules, true, but as long as their employees finished the assignment, they didn’t care how Frank and the rest accomplished their tasks.

  “I don’t get it,” Wicked said. “Where’s the enjoyment in putting a bullet to their heads?”

  “I’m not like you. I don’t care to watch the life leave their eyes.”

  Frank finished his smoke, wanting to get the hell out of there. Spending the rest of his evening with a psycho wasn’t his ideal choice of entertainment. He sho
uld go back home. Work his frustrations off in the shower and think of Lex, the one that got away. No. That wasn’t exactly right. He let Lex go, knowing they lived in different worlds.

  “But that’s the fun part.” Wicked plucked a utility knife from somewhere in his jacket and began doing a balancing act with his fingers, flipping the hilt between each digit. A regular circus performer, Frank mused. He watched the blade flicker in the dim alleyway for a few seconds.

  “Do I have to file a restraining order against you? What the hell do you want?” Frank finally asked, tired of games.

  “You said I could study the way you work.”

  Frank snorted. “You paraphrased. I said you could do whatever the fuck you want as long as you don’t interfere with my work.”

  Wicked tossed the knife up in the air and deftly caught it on its way down with those agile fingers. The crazy assassin once told him exactly how many times a man could cut someone up while keeping them alive. Wicked was an unstable fuck, but Frank knew why the Organization kept killers like Wicked in their stable. Some clients wanted to go for pain. Guys like Wicked matched their requirements and delivered.

  “This might be the last time. You bore me. Stalk. Shoot. Retire. You go on the same loop every single time, never breaking pattern.”

  “Routine… order… not necessarily a bad thing.”

  For a second their gazes met. Frank saw dark things reflected in Wicked’s eyes, the same things that lurked in his, except in Wicked there was no restraint, no control. On a more alarming note, he also saw his death reflected there. Someday, not tonight or tomorrow perhaps, Wicked would find an opening and kill him simply for the heck of it.

  Frank made a mental note to avoid this maniac in the future. He wasn’t afraid of a crazy bastard like Wicked. Entering this kind of profession that dealt with lives, Frank knew death waited in the wings any moment.

  Step one to becoming a soulless killer was accepting he could die any moment. Step two was eradicating the parts of him that got in the way of his job. Things like compassion and love. The last part hadn’t been completely erased. His accidental meeting with Lex Page proved that.