“I never put them away after that time—” he began, but Léo fused their mouths together, not caring. The only thing that mattered was Ben.
Ben, who was opening the lube, slicking his fingers, prepping himself, right there in Léo’s lap. He gave Léo the condom, and Léo scrambled to get it on. In no time, Ben was lowering himself onto Léo’s dick, and then they were joined, and Léo’s chest ached, because tomorrow, he wouldn’t have this anymore. His bunny would be gone. He forced the thought away, focusing instead on Ben’s hips under his hands, his neck and collarbone under Léo’s mouth, the tight grip of him around Léo’s cock, the noises he made as Léo made sure to hit his prostate. He knew Ben could come from this alone, but this time, their last time together for months, he wanted to show Ben who was in charge.
He grabbed Ben’s dick where it was pressed between them, leaking precum against Léo’s stomach, and stroked. Ben moaned.
Léo squeezed.
Ben gasped, his rhythm faltering, and Léo let go.
“Noooooo,” Ben implored.
“Keep moving,” Léo gritted out, and as Ben hastened to comply, he slid his hand over his bunny’s cock again, feathering over the sensitive head, down the shaft, trailing his fingers along the soft skin of Ben’s balls, drawn up so tight. He was nearly there, so Léo tickled delicately, trying to ignore the tight, heavy feeling in his own balls, Ben’s desperate “Ungh!” music to his ears.
His questing fingers stroked up Ben’s crack, to where he could feel himself sliding in and out of Ben’s gorgeous arse—
“Arrrgh!” Ben cried, and his chute constricted around Léo for long seconds, releasing then tightening again—and again. Léo lost control, coming so hard his vision blurred, and when his brain came back online, Ben was draped over him, face buried in Léo’s neck, panting.
Léo turned his head and kissed Ben’s hair.
“I love you,” he whispered. “Please come back to me.”
Chapter Thirteen
BEN sat outdoors at a café in Piazza San Marco and gazed at the basilica. With the deepening twilight, the lights were coming on, and the building had the same glow as so many of the historic structures he’d seen in Europe. The weather was colder than he’d expected when he’d been planning the trip—after all, it was November, not July as he’d originally intended—and with many fewer tourists, but Venice was still as incredible as he’d imagined. Lucien had been right—he liked it best of all the places he’d seen in Italy.
Lucien had, unfortunately, also been right that Venice was best visited in company. Everywhere Ben looked, he saw people in groups. Couples. Even those who seemed to be alone were usually just waiting for others to join them. In the four days he’d already been in Venice, he could count on one hand the number of people he’d seen who had actually been on their own—and he’d have fingers leftover.
Ben missed Léo desperately. They’d spoken every day since he’d left Monaco a little under four weeks ago, texting often and actually talking or FaceTiming at least once a day. On several occasions, Léo had been out with Malik or Lucien when Ben called, or Ben had been doing something suitably touristy when Léo called, and missing out on his Léo time had caused an actual physical ache in his chest.
Ben had taken his time traveling through Italy, really immersing himself in the country. It was beautiful. He’d seen all the places he’d read about, eaten what had felt like his own weight in food at every meal, and learned so much about the culture. Italy was an amazing country. It was everything he’d dreamed.
But it wasn’t Monaco.
It wasn’t a city-state built on a hill where around every corner there was a view of the ocean. Every time he went to a market, or bought cheap T-shirts from a gypsy, he was reminded of the place where such things were anathema. The glory of ancient cities and the compelling juxtaposition of historic structures beside modern buildings paled beside the memory of casual glamour and elegance. Even the displays of wealth, far more than he was used to seeing in Australia—this was Europe, after all—seemed not as natural.
He was being silly, of course. It was all in his head—well, mostly—but that didn’t make it any less difficult to handle. Not for the first time, he regretted his decision to take the same amount of time he’d spent in Monaco for his travels. It hadn’t even been a month, and already he wanted to go home to Léo.
In his hand, his phone trilled, and Ben’s mood lifted. He’d been expecting Léo to call, and here he was, right on time.
“Hello?” he said eagerly.
“Hello, Bunny,” Léo said, and Ben laughed. Léo had explained the whole “bunny” thing during a marathon call several weeks back, and although it had been a little weird at first, the affection in Léo’s voice when he said it ensured that Ben had grown to love the endearment.
“Hey. How was the drive?” he asked. Léo had been in Paris for the past four days, meeting his brand-new nephew and doing his duty by his family. He’d flown up, but then decided to drive back, stopping overnight to visit with a friend in Lyon.
He’d bought a new car for the drive. Ben had winced when he’d heard, and Léo, laughing, had assured him that it was not an extravagant car. Ben had looked it up after the call and was now completely certain that he and Léo had different definitions of “extravagant.”
“It was good to drive,” Léo said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve driven farther than Nice. How is Venice this evening?”
“Magical,” Ben said, looking around the piazza again. And it was. Somehow, in the past two minutes it had transformed from merely incredible to beyond description.
He tried not to dwell on why that might be.
“I splurged and took a water taxi down the Grand Canal to St. Mark’s at twilight, like Malik suggested. Honestly, does he know every possible romantic place and activity in the world? He’s done that before with a woman, hasn’t he?”
“Women,” Léo said, laughing. “We spent a month in Venice the summer we were twenty, and Malik had a water taxi on retainer for the same time every night. Even now, if you mention his name to the taxi operators there, they smirk.”
Ben giggled and made a mental note to try that.
“Tell me what else you did today,” Léo prompted, and Ben did. Then he asked about Léo’s day, most of which had been spent in his car, and heard about Malik’s relief that Léo was back and could save him from the tourist who’d fallen in love with him.
“What?” Ben demanded, not sure whether he should laugh and kind of wanting to. “How did a tourist fall in love with him in four days, and how are you supposed to save him?”
“I have no idea, to both those questions,” Léo answered. “With Malik, sometimes it’s better not to ask. He will be here soon, and I’m sure I will hear all about it then.”
“He’s coming over? Are you guys going out?” Ben asked wistfully.
“Not tonight. Lucien’s coming—his plane should land soon—and we are supposed to review some papers for one of his mother’s charities. Malik decided he didn’t want to be left out and promised to bring dinner if we let him come.”
“Why didn’t you look at the papers while you were in Paris?” The sudden sharp longing was hard to ignore.
“I was going to,” Léo admitted, “but then I didn’t want to stay in Paris that long, and Lucien wanted to get out of Paris for a couple of days, so… it seemed opportune.”
“Yeah.” A thought struck. “Malik’s bringing dinner? He’s not cooking it, surely?”
Léo’s laughter warmed him from the inside out—which was good, because it was getting damn cold now, especially with the wind picking up.
“No, he’s not cooking it,” Léo assured him. “And if he ever does offer to cook for you, say no. He can barely mix a drink. He’ll have one of his favorite restaurants cater the meal.”
That made much more sense. Ben hadn’t been able to imagine Malik ordering a cheap, greasy takeaway—or Léo and Lucien eating it, for that matter, even
if there had been somewhere nearby that did casual takeaway. Malik and Léo had spoken fondly of their time at Oxford, eating pub food and generally living the student life, but that was years ago, and Ben had never seen them eat less than the best.
In the background, he heard the sound of Léo’s doorbell, and his stomach sank.
“I have to go,” Léo said, regret clear in his voice.
“I know,” Ben replied. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” He winced at how needy he sounded.
“Of course. I love you.”
Ben smiled, his heart breaking. “I love you too.”
They ended the call, and for a moment he stared at the phone in his hand. Would it be completely selfish if he…?
Yes, it would be, he decided. Then he did it anyway.
“’Lo? Ben?” Dani croaked. “Are you okay?” Remorse swamped him, but not enough to make him hang up.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry to wake you.” He glanced at his watch and cringed. She needed to get up for work in just a few hours.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding slightly more alert. He heard rustling, presumably her sheets as she sat up in bed. Dani always propped herself against the headboard when she spoke on the phone in bed.
“Nothing’s wrong, really.” He sighed. “I guess I’m just lonely. I was talking to Léo, and he had to go because Malik and Lucien were coming over, and… I really wished I was there.”
“He didn’t make you feel like he was too busy for you, did he?” Dani demanded, the fierce lioness coming to the fore.
“No, nothing like that.” Ben smiled. “If I’d asked him to, he probably would have kept me on speaker phone so I could spend the evening with them.”
“So you’re not worried that his feelings are fading?” There was an edge of sarcasm to her voice.
Ben chuckled. “No way. He loves me.” He was sure of that now. This past month had concreted it in his mind.
“And you love him?”
“Of course.” He really shouldn’t have woken her. She was obviously so tired she couldn’t process properly.
“Then why the fuck are you alone in Venice, missing him, wishing you were there, and waking me up at… Christ, three o’clock in the morning to whine about it?” She sounded pissed off, and thinking about it, he could see why.
He started to laugh. A real, hearty, full-blown laugh that made the few other patrons willing to risk the cold and sit outside turn to look.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I, Dani?” he asked.
“Yes. You’re a complete moron. What are you doing right now?”
Ben looked around. “I’m sitting in St. Mark’s Square, freezing my arse off while I drink incredibly overpriced coffee with liqueur in it and stare at the basilica.”
“Right. Well, I suggest you pay for that very expensive coffee, go back to your hotel, and pack. Get online and book a flight for tomorrow morning that will get you back to where you really want to be. Sort things out with Léo, and when you guys are all settled into domestic bliss, you can see the other places on your list together. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Ben affirmed. “You always did make the best plans. Will you come and spend Christmas with us? It might snow.” He thought about it. “Well, probably not in Monaco, but we can go someplace where it will.”
“Probably not, Ben,” she said quietly, and he frowned.
“I can’t tempt you with a white Christmas?” he teased, wondering what was wrong. She chuckled a little.
“I don’t want to leave right now, Benji. Gran’s not doing well.”
Ben winced. He was such an arse. “I’m sorry, Dani. Why didn’t you say anything? Do you want me to come back? I can look after her for you. And don’t call me Benji,” he tacked on.
“No, honey. Thanks for offering, but I would rather poke out my own eyes than keep you away from Léo for even a second longer than necessary. We’ve got things handled here.”
“Are you sure?” Ben wished he could make this easier for Dani. He’d had to watch many times as people said goodbye to loved ones, and nothing about it was good.
“I’m sure. Now, I’m going to go back to sleep, and you need to get moving if you’re going back to Monaco tomorrow.”
“True. Okay. I’m sorry I had to wake you, but not sorry we talked. I’ll call you when I’m back at Léo’s. Good night, Dani.”
“Night, Benji.” She hung up before he could tell her not to call him Benji. He signaled to the waiter that he wanted his bill, and then while he waited he googled possible flights to Monaco. It wasn’t encouraging. There weren’t many direct from Venice, so he’d have to transit via somewhere else.
The waiter brought a discreet leather folder, and Ben hurried to pull out his wallet and pay. Once he’d put far too much money down, he stood up so sharply that he knocked over his chair, and when he bent over to right it, he bashed his forehead on the table.
“Fuck!” Rubbing his head, he straightened, deciding to just leave the chair, and waved off the concerned waiter. Shivering slightly, he began walking back toward his hotel… and then stopped. The hotel wasn’t too far, sure, and water taxis were horrifically expensive, but it was cold. He had stuff to do. And he had the money. Maybe he had to get used to using it.
Determined, he turned and went to the taxi rank. Within ten minutes, he was back at the berth nearest his hotel—right in front, actually—and as he handed over the necessary euros, he realized the little niggle of guilt for not walking was easier to ignore than he’d thought. Maybe he would never be able to spend money as casually as Léo, but sometimes, on special occasions, he could splash out a bit. Like he had on his hotels this trip. The place he was staying was the height of luxury, and that meant it wasn’t cheap.
He was halfway across the hotel lobby before that thought sank in. He looked around. It really was a luxurious hotel. That meant staff who were ready and waiting to assist guests. And being not-cheap—really fucking not-cheap, to be honest—meant the staff were used to catering to people who had money and weren’t afraid to spend it.
He turned around and went over to the concierge desk. The man there smiled at him. Ben smiled back.
“I need to get to Monaco as fast as possible.”
Chapter Fourteen
TWO hours later, Ben climbed out of the helicopter that had whisked him from Venice to Monaco, clutching his carry-on bag. The pilot jumped down and passed his suitcase to the driver of the car waiting to take him to Léo’s apartment. Ben followed the driver numbly.
He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to get into a helicopter again. Yes, it had been quicker than a plane, and definitely more convenient. But not more comfortable. And oh my God, the price had been horrifying.
He slid into the luxury sedan and admitted to himself that sometimes it was worth paying a little more for comfort. If he’d been in any other place, he’d probably have tried to get a train or something, and this car shit on any train he’d ever been on.
As the car wound through increasingly familiar streets, anxiety kicked in. Should he have called and told Léo he was coming? Really, why hadn’t he? He knew Léo would be glad to see him. He probably even had a friend who could have given him a lift.
Worrying won’t help anything. You’re nearly there. It was all going to be okay. He loved Léo. Léo loved him. Léo would be thrilled to see him. They would make love and snuggle and stay up all night talking.
Well, maybe not the last. But they would talk. There was no way Ben could go on without working. It would drive him insane. He had his long-stay visa, so he’d jump through whatever hoops necessary to gain work privileges, and then he’d look into temp jobs. Maybe there were rich old people who only needed short-term nurses while they were visiting Monaco? Or Léo probably knew someone who could help him. Working full-time would eat into the time he could spend with Léo, and really, he didn’t need to. They both had money. Why take a job someone else really needed? Relief and temp work was fine with him.
He and Léo could travel too. Ben wanted to spend more time in Venice, and he hadn’t gotten to Switzerland, Austria, Germany, and the rest yet, and he wouldn’t mind going back to the UK. Hadn’t Malik said a while back that he and Léo usually spent a few weeks skiing in Switzerland every year?
Ben had been skiing once. It had been a pretty disastrous experience, but he had fond memories of sitting in front of the fire at the lodge with a hot, doctored drink, gossiping with Dani. He could do that while Léo skied.
And maybe he could get involved with some charity work. It would be nice to give something back, now that he really could.
Of course, it all depended on whether Léo was pleased to see him or not.
Ben shook his head firmly as they pulled up in front of Léo’s building. He was being silly. He tipped the driver, waited patiently while the man unloaded his suitcase, even though he could have done it himself, and then squared his shoulders as he looked at the glass doors in front of him. The doorman looked back. Ben didn’t recognize him, and another bout of nerves jabbed sharply at his stomach.
This is stupid. The longer you stand out here like a moron, the longer you’re away from Léo.
He sucked in a deep breath and walked toward the door. The doorman snapped to attention and opened it for him. Ben smiled at him and walked through, dragging his suitcase behind him.
Inside, he noted with some relief that he knew the man at the security desk, who was smiling at him with faint surprise.
“Monsieur Adams, welcome back,” the man—Ben was pretty sure his name was Marc—said politely. “May I take your bag?”
“That’s okay, I’ve got it,” Ben said, as breezily as he could manage considering that his throat felt tight. “I’m just going to head straight up.”
“Bien sûr, monsieur.”
The lift was waiting, and Ben stepped inside and hit the button for Léo’s floor. As usual, the ride was smooth, silent, and fast. It seemed only seconds later that he was standing in front of Léo’s door.
The Bunny and the Billionaire Page 16
