Chapter 7: Break a Rule

Fabio’s POV

I downed the ninth drink and still felt completely sober. I picked up the tenth and did the same. All this while, my eyes never left him.

He was right in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by a half-dressed girl and a shirtless guy hovering right over him. And he was loving every second of it- the stray hands, the unprompted, messy kisses from whoever reached out to pull him in. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, the fabric damp with vodka. Dark, fresh hickeys were scattered across his chest, left by different, greedy mouths.

I watched him grab a bottle of straight vodka and take a heavy swallow. He did not even flinch, though I saw his mouth part, letting out a sound likely a deep groan. I could not hear it over the deafening bass echoing through the villa. My villa, to be exact.

I poured another shot and downed it in one go. The urge to march over there, grab him by the collar, and see the shock on his face before kissing him senseless was nearly overwhelming. Just to remind him of that wild, chaotic night.

He had probably forgotten all about it. But I hadn’t.

Not a chance. Every single time I had sex with anyone else since then, he was the only thing on my mind. The way he sounded when I was deep inside him, the way it felt when I yielded control and let him take me in return. It was absolute chaos, a pure test of wills, and a level of pleasure I had never touched before him, and had not found since.

And damn it, yes, I wanted it again.

I had even tried to bottom for another guy recently, but I could not bring myself to do it. It just felt wrong. Completely un-Fabio.

I never thought an obsession like this was possible for me, not until I saw him at the track earlier tonight. All those dark fantasies I had spent months jerking off to were suddenly breathing right in front of me.

I wanted Marco.

I wanted him so badly and so hard that my cock physically ached against my jeans at the moment.

"Fabio!" I snapped out of my head when someone unceremoniously threw themselves onto the couch next to me. "What’s up? You look completely out of it tonight."

It was some guy whose name completely escaped me, though I guessed he was one of my past flings. I flashed him a polite, hollow smile without saying a word. A smart person would have taken the hint to back off, but he pushed right ahead.

"Or do you just need... company?" His fingers brushed my thigh, trailing slowly upward until they were inches from my hard cock.

Thinking of it, maybe this could finally take my mind off Marco. So, keeping the smile on my face, I grabbed his hips and pulled him straight into my lap so he was straddling me. He leaned in for a kiss, but I quickly pressed an index finger against his mouth.

"No lip kissing," I whispered.

The guy raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off. Instead, he dipped his head to my ear, nipping lightly at the skin before trailing wet kisses down my neck. I rested my head against the back of the couch, closed my eyes, and tried to force myself into the moment.

For fuck’s sake, I really tried. The guy knew what he was doing with his mouth, especially his tongue, but there was a glaring flaw. Inside my head, I saw him again.

Marco.

I pictured Marco sitting in my lap instead of this stranger. I imagined his voice whispering dirty, arrogant promises in my ear. I felt him rubbing his cock against mine, slowly, agonizingly, making those deep, breathless groans that always drove me out of my mind. I even heard him moan my name, his dark, dangerous eyes locked onto mine with a hunger so intense it felt like a promise. Promising me the absolute best fuck of my life.

"Fuck!" I snapped my eyes open, cursing aloud.

Without an ounce of gentleness, I shoved the guy off me. I didn’t stick around to hear whatever complaints he spat out; my entire focus had shifted to finding the bastard actually responsible for my misery. But scanning the room, Marco was nowhere to be seen.

I stood up and headed straight for the hallway. Maybe he had dragged one of his hookups into a bathroom while I was sitting daydreaming like a lust-struck asshole. I had reached my limit. I needed to get this over with. And the only possible cure was to lock myself in a room with Marco and fuck each other until we both couldn’t stand.

I checked several washrooms on the ground floor, but after ten frustrating minutes, I still came up empty. Had he already left? It didn’t matter. I was going to drag him out of whatever hole he was hiding in.

"Fabiooo..."

I turned around and came face-to-face with a heavily intoxicated... Tony, right? One of Marco’s friends. The other guy, James, was currently holding him upright.

"He’s stupidly drunk," James offered with an awkward smile.

I gave him a tight, dismissive nod and was about to walk past them when a thought hit me. "Uhm... has Marco left?" I kept my voice completely neutral. Or at least, I tried to.

"Ptch... no, my little slut of a friend... would never leave... without..." Tony slurred, hiccuping loudly before James clamped a hand over his mouth.

"He went up to the rooftop to get... some fresh air?" James supplied, sounding entirely unconvinced too.

Get fresh air. Yeah, right. He was probably up there banging someone against a railing. Tony kept babbling incoherently until James dragged him away, shooting me an apologetic look over his shoulder.

Once they were out of sight, I took the stairs two at a time. I headed to my master bedroom first, grabbed a key from the drawer, and made my way up to the rooftop door. A few steps away, I paused and listened. Strangely, there was complete silence. That dead quiet made me push the door open even faster.

It was pitch dark out on the terrace, with not even a sliver of moonlight breaking through the clouds.

Then, I saw him. That painfully familiar silhouette lying stretched out on the outdoor sofa. Oddly, and I mean, genuinely oddly, he was completely alone. Not with some chick or dude making the best of their lives. He was just... there.

I pulled the door shut behind me, slid the key into the lock, and turned it. I double-checked it to be sure. I knew exactly what was coming next, and I was not taking any chances for interruptions. Once it was secured, I tossed the key onto the concrete floor.

The clatter was soft, but it was enough to make his head snap in my direction.

I walked toward him in complete silence.

He sat up slowly.

I couldn’t make out his face clearly until I was standing right in front of the sofa, towering over him.

He was looking up at me.

I was looking down at him.

Even in the dark, I caught the deliberate swipe of his tongue wetting his lower lip before he stood up, casually closing the remaining gap between us.

We were inches apart now, close enough that we were sharing the exact same charged, heavy air.

I could feel it. The suffocating heat radiating between us.

And I knew he felt it too.

The way his chest hitched, letting out a heavy, silent breath, proved he was in no better shape than I was.

Good.

I wasn’t the only one losing my mind. To prove my point, I stepped dangerously closer, erasing that last inch of space. Our bodies brushed- specific parts of our bodies. I could feel his hard cock pressing directly against mine through our jeans.

He was just as agonizingly aroused as I was. He was in desperate need of me, just as I was in need of him.

And that single realization finally shattered whatever restraint I had left.

"I so badly want to break a rule," I murmured. Because of our proximity, my lips brushed against his with every word.

"So do I," he whispered back, his mouth chasing the friction.

"I never fuck anyone twice," I confessed.

"Neither do I," he murmured right back.