Out of the Darkness

by J. C. Owens

  He was unbearably beautiful in an androgynous sort of way; face of an angel, wavy brunette hair that shone in the sun, green eyes that lit to fire the moment he saw Enzo. His body was lean and lithe, clothed in skintight black leather pants and a black button-down shirt that was open enough to show bronzed flesh.

  “Enzo! Mi sei mancato amico!”

  To Chase’s increasing horror, Enzo held his arms open, and the other man walked into them, immediately giving the traditional kiss to each cheek—smiling, chatting softly in Italian—before rising on his toes to lick across the taller man’s mouth, and then slanting his lips across Enzo’s with hungry force.

  His jaw dropped, and he clenched his hands slowly into fists. Who the hell was this guy? And what the fuck did he think he was doing?

  Enzo did not seem adverse to the attentions. Indeed, he only smiled beneath the kiss, his arms wrapping around the smaller man, drawing him closer against his body.

  He thought he just might faint. Enzo was kissing another man, and obviously not for the first time. But Enzo was straight, wasn’t he? His heart seemed to want to pound through his chest, and he could not move for the shock of what he was seeing.

  Enzo was bi.

  Why the fuck had no one seen fit to tell him this rather important detail? He wanted to scream with frustration. If he had just known…

  Enzo drew back from the kiss, one hand coming up to caress the other man’s face lightly.

  “Ren, mio amore, it is good to see you once more. It has been a long time.” The softness on his face and in his words made Chase rise to his feet, shock turning to fury.

  My love? What the fuck was going on?

  Ren purred, damn well purred, as he pressed closer, his hands cradling Enzo’s face, one leg rising to wrap around Enzo’s hip. A sultry look from beneath half-lowered lashes. “Ti voglio. Proprio ora?”

  Chase caught the gist of that, and by God… He cleared his throat, since Enzo seemed to have forgotten his presence in the firestorm this newcomer seemed to create.

  The sound made the two men slowly part, though Ren gave a few thrusts of his hips before he removed his leg from its embrace. He turned his head, meeting Chase’s angry stare with a raised eyebrow.

  Enzo took a moment to respond, and Chase could clearly see the arousal tenting his shorts. The sight made him want to spit nails.

  Who was this clown? How dare he act in such a way, in front of him as though he did not exist! His anger grew with his thoughts. How dare he touch the Martinelli like that?

  Enzo, to Chase’s disgust, seemed pleased to see the newcomer, more than pleased if his cock was anything to go by.

  “Ren, this is Chase, my ward.”

  Ren’s expression grew calculating as he looked Chase up and down, as though he had suddenly become a rival when before he had been beneath notice.

  He raised his chin, a feeling of determination rising in his chest. Whatever this man had been to Enzo in the past, he was damn well not going to waltz in here and screw things up.

  The depth of the possessiveness he felt was rather overwhelming. The women who had slept with Enzo had brought a tight feeling and sadness, but this—man—was something else entirely.

  The implications truly struck him and his gaze swiveled to Enzo, who was watching him with slight perplexity evident in his expression.

  Did this mean Enzo actually slept with men? He was truly bi? This wasn’t some anomaly? Chase wanted to groan with fury at himself. How had he missed this? He would have presented his feelings…

  He cursed under his breath. No, he would not have. His self-esteem was low as it was and his need of his mentor as friend, if nothing else, would have hampered him.

  He hated this Ren already with his pretty boy looks and cursed self-confidence. He did not deserve Enzo. He was the one who loved the Martinelli—not this interloper.

  Ren gave a small smile and stepped forward, holding out his hand.

  He stared at it with a black frown. A swift glance at Enzo showed his disapproval of the hesitation in manners. With grim reluctance, he returned the gesture, almost shuddering at the touch of that warm palm against his own.

  “I did not know you had a ward, much less one so handsome.” Ren’s tone was playful as he looked over his shoulder at Enzo.

  “You have not been present to know what is happening in my life, my friend.” There was no chastisement in the tone. Enzo was obviously well used to Ren’s absences. Chase could only hope that his stay would be short and his future absence even longer. His emotions must have been more evident than he thought, for Enzo was staring at him with a faint frown, and Ren was laughing silently, not seeming to be the least fazed by his attitude.

  Chase wanted to punch his lights out, but he would not lower himself to such extremes in front of his mentor. He was more than that, despite what burned within him. Enzo would not appreciate a brawl in his own house.

  Ren was evidently very comfortable here as he turned away and sank into one of the chairs with careless grace.

  He looked up at Enzo with a seductive smile, holding out one slim hand. “I have been away too long. I missed your surly presence.”

  Enzo lifted a dark eyebrow, but his expression was anything but cold as he looked at the newcomer. Indeed, he crossed over and sank into the chair nearest to Ren, reaching out and taking that offered hand, his eyes glinting as he raised it to his lips, and bit one of the fingers playfully.

  Ren yelped, then grinned, his own eyes lighting to fire in response to the sultry play. “Far, far too long,” he whispered, leaning forward.

  Chase cleared his throat again, having to grip the back of his chair just to prevent himself from stepping forward, the wish to come between them almost pulsing in his mind. The two men looked up blankly, as though they had forgotten his existence, as though they felt themselves to be alone.

  He wanted to curse out loud.

  Enzo met his furious gaze with his frown deepening, obviously unable to ascertain why his young charge displayed such anger in every line of his body.

  Ren did not seem so confused. His half smirk seemed to indicate that he understood Chase’s motives all too well. He reached out and gently caressed Enzo’s cheek, encouraging the Martinelli to look back at him. “It seems your boy does not like to share. I suggest we go elsewhere, or if you wish, we could always go to the club…” His tone was pure seduction.

  Enzo shook his head. “You expect me to wait? I do not think so, mi amore. Now.” He stood and yanked Ren up to his feet, shackling his wrist in one powerful hand. He shot a glance toward Chase. “My apologies, Chase, but could you tell Ms. Granger that she will have to send food up to my room?” He did not wait for a reply, pulling Ren behind him as he strode for the double doors that led off of the patio.

  Ren shot a look back over his shoulder at Chase, and his expression held nothing but triumph as they disappeared into the dim interior of the house.

  He sank down bonelessly on the chair behind him, shock and anger battling for position in his thoughts.

  Chase sat at the table, picking at the food morosely, trying to control the hurt he had no right to feel. Enzo was not his—and he had the right to take anyone he wanted as lover. But the shock had not abated that it was a man this time.

  If Enzo was bi, that meant that he had a chance.

  He shook his head, forcing the hope out of his mind. Enzo had always slept with those who knew the game. And not too young. Most were around Enzo’s own age. Only Stacey was younger. Not once had his lovers been gentle or soft in nature as Chase knew himself to be. He could not see how that would be the slightest turn-on to a man who could have any desire at his fingertips. Perhaps Enzo saw him as less than whole, tainted by all those who had known his body? Why would the Martinelli settle for someone dulled with use, when he could have so many sensual offerings that had never known pain, did not bear the scars of an abusive past?

  If only…

  Chase scowled to himself. He knew better
than to dream. He had so much now, he should be grateful for everything Enzo had gifted him instead of wanting yet more.

  He finally pushed the plate away, unable to face food at the moment. Ms. Granger came to the table, saying nothing, but laying a kiss upon his head. The sympathy and silent understanding was almost his undoing.

  He dragged himself up to his room, flinging himself onto his bed and burying his face into his pillows to muffle his groan. He lay there for long moments, trying to get himself under control, then rolled over, leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve the stack of papers he had been gathering in the quest to choose a college. Immersing himself in the pamphlets, he tried to push aside the misery he felt.

  Perhaps it was best he find a school far away, so he could not see what Enzo did each day, which lovers he chose.

  Chase put a hand to his stomach, dismayed at the pain he felt over even considering a separation. How could he bear month upon month of not seeing the one he loved so much?

  Peter, his therapist, had told him that the emotions would fade into friendship, that his feelings were not true love. Well, Peter, for once, had been wrong.

  Seeing Enzo with another man had merely awakened the depth of what he felt. This was no mere gratitude or false lust. He felt this to the depths of his soul and knew now that it was love, to whatever degree he was capable of.

  He rolled to his side and stared out his massive window, a tightness in his throat making it hard to swallow. The moon was almost full, and it lit up the patio and pool below with silvered brilliance. Movement sparked his interest, and he rose to his feet, switching out his light as he went.

  It took moments for his eyes to adjust, and then his hand curled into a fist against the glass.

  Enzo had Ren in his arms, the two of them standing nude in the shallow end of the pool, entwined. Ren had his face tilted up, and Enzo’s fingers were buried in thick hair, holding Ren’s head still as he ravished the smaller man’s mouth with hungry fervor.

  Chase caught his breath, leaning forward, longing for even a portion of what this stranger was receiving. Morality and self-preservation demanded that he step back, close his eyes as to what was happening below, but some part of him refused, denying even the pain to watch what he could never have.

  He wished he could hear the sounds Enzo must be making, the mere thought of it making him shiver, his hand unconsciously sliding within his sweatpants to caress his cock, finding it already hard and weeping, so much did the scene affect him.

  When Ren knelt in the shallows, looking up with a wicked smirk, before taking Enzo’s cock in hand, Chase caught his breath, eyes fixed upon that beautiful member. Having been taken by so many, he counted himself a bit of an expert on male genitalia, and even from this distance, Enzo looked large and thick—and circumcised. He made a little sound in his throat, startling himself, his hand tightening upon his own cock.

  Ren wasted no time, but guided Enzo to his mouth and commenced licking and kissing with evident enjoyment. He wished he could critique the performance, find fault with Ren’s touch, but he had no right to criticize what the other man was doing out of clean desire. Chase had never experienced such a thing. Always sex had been painful—mentally and physically—and it had taken all this time for him to even want to touch himself, much less make love to another. But Enzo was different. The Martinelli was his touchstone, his safety. He knew he could lay with his mentor and come away with nothing but pleasure.

  Envy crawled up his spine, making him grit his teeth. It was his right to hold Enzo, touch him so intimately, to explore that glorious body, not this—slut. He bit his lip, feeling shame cascade over his mind. How was Chase any better after what he had undergone? For all he knew, Ren loved Enzo as much as he did.

  He shook his head in silence. No. Not possible. No one could love Enzo Martinelli as much as he did—to his very soul.

  Below, the men stood in tableau, Enzo with head tilted back, lips slightly parted, legs far enough apart for Ren to handle him intimately without restrictions. His fingers were buried in Ren’s hair, but gently, not forcefully, not yet. Chase watched the lean hips flex as passion rose, and felt his own cock fully harden as he handled it, beginning to flex his body in unconscious imitation of Enzo. He licked his lips, his breath starting to quicken as he watched the beauty of the men below. Their motions were those of lovers who had done this many times before, who were comfortable with each other’s bodies; movements of grace, smoothness of purpose, knowledge.

  Chase watched, and wished.

  When Enzo cried out, he heard it even through the fogging glass, and tears pricked his eyes as he hurtled toward his own conclusion. Panting, he watched as Enzo’s hand slid down Ren’s body to return the favor with his touch, but he could no longer continue as the voyeur. His orgasm had left him empty and cold within. He felt a million miles away from the men below and so very isolated in that moment.

  Quietly, somberly, he went for a shower. He stood with his face in the spray, washing away the hot sting of tears.

  College was beginning to look like an escape, rather than an exile.

  Chase did not sleep that night and was early to breakfast—anything to get his mind off his troubles. Ms. Granger gave him a long hug, as though she felt his pain, and he had to fight back tears at her caring touch. Once she had disappeared back into the kitchen, he sat in silence, morosely rearranging his omelet so Ms. Granger would believe he had eaten something.

  Footsteps from the courtyard made him look up, and a breath caught in his throat when Enzo strode into the room.

  Enzo ruffled Chase’s hair as he passed, and for once, Chase did not appreciate the gesture. It was something you did to a child, and at this moment, he wanted desperately to be so much more to his mentor.

  “Your old bucket is leaking oil on the driveway again. Why will you not allow me to buy you a decent car? It is a mockery of my wealth to have that hulk in front of my villa.” The teasing tone was familiar, as was the topic.

  Today, Chase had no heart for such a thing. “I like my car,” he merely stated quietly, his eyes lowering to his uneaten meal. After coming home with Enzo, he’d earned money at his first job—waiting tables at a restaurant Enzo owned—and scraped together enough to get his own vehicle. It represented independence, a new strength in him, in his life. He loved it dearly, rough though it was.

  Ms. Granger bustled in, breaking the tension, and he could have kissed her in relief. He did not know how to face Enzo this morning. The usual camaraderie and ease of their relationship was nowhere in his capabilities at the moment.

  The only consolation was that there was no sign of Ren. He could not bring himself to question Enzo as to his whereabouts.

  “You are very quiet, ragazzo mio. Are you all right?” Enzo’s tone was light this morning, and why not? He had no doubt spent a very, very pleasant night with his lover.

  Chase simply nodded, unable to meet those perceptive eyes.

  He could feel the weight of his mentor’s stare upon his face, so he forced a faint smile, though he still could not look up.

  “I just did not sleep well last night. Have a bit of a headache, so I will just take it easy this morning.”

  He placed long fingers under Chase’s chin and lifted it so he had to meet Enzo eye to eye.

  Enzo frowned, his stare deep and intent. When at last Chase found himself released, he felt relief of great proportions. Enzo was an expert at getting any and all information he wanted, whether that source be friend or foe. At least he was a little gentler with those he counted friends. He shivered. Never, ever, would he wish to be on the wrong side of the man he loved. The darkness that lived in those eyes was nothing that anyone would wish to face.

  “You are avoiding the truth, Chase. What is going on?” The tone had dropped slightly, deeper, more commanding. He had never been able to resist that tone, for it was all too similar to old memories.

  He bit his lip, dropping his head lower, feeling his body almost re
turn to the curl his mind remembered so well.

  A sigh. “Is this about Ren?”

  He jerked his head up, his horrified eyes finally meeting Enzo’s. He fidgeted, wanting to flee from the situation, but at the same time, feeling as though this was his only chance to make Enzo see, to drive Ren from the other man’s thoughts and life. Something of his desperation must have shown on his face, because the other man leaned forward, true concern appearing on his face.

  “Chase…”

  Old insecurities coming back to haunt him. What did he have to lose at that moment?

  Silently he rose to his feet, and rounded the large table to stand before Enzo, close enough to touch. With every ounce of courage he possessed, he managed to meet those dark brown eyes.

  Enzo turned his chair, frowning, obviously wanting to face him directly, and inadvertently providing Chase the opening he needed, wanted.

  Before he could consider the consequences of such a maneuver, he caught Enzo’s shoulders and dived in for a kiss, his fingers holding Enzo still.

  Enzo froze, his lips parting in obvious astonishment, and Chase took the opportunity to sweep his tongue into that mouth, the taste everything he had ever dreamed of.

  He closed his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath, wishing the moment could draw out forever.

  Enzo grasped his shoulders and pushed him ever so gently away, and Chase felt his heart shatter. With a gasp of pain, he whirled and fled.

  He had destroyed everything.

  Chapter Five

  Facedown on his bed, he could not even cry. His chest felt so terribly tight, as if he would never be able to draw proper breath ever again, and his jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly in an effort to gain control.

  Fool. He had always known that he had to keep his stupid infatuation under wraps, but Ren’s presence and the knowledge that Enzo was bi had opened something within him, something that demanded expression despite the dangers.