by J. C. Owens
“We have always been free with each other. Honest at least, sì?” He met Ren’s stare with a faint fond smile.
“Sì.” Ren drew back somewhat, searching his face as though for clues.
“We have had good times and have always let each other go when it is time. When things change.”
Ren narrowed his eyes, lips thinning. “I would have stayed…”
He shook his head. “You have always had an appetite for the world, amico mio. You would never have been content stuck at my side. You have an amore per la vita. I have always admired that about you. My life would have sucked you dry and bled that out of you. It is good to see that you still possess it.”
Ren leaned back in the chair, fingers clenching white over the arms, jaw twitching.
“I don’t like the tone of this, Enzo.”
“We have been in each other’s beds, off and on, for many years. It is not serious, you know that. You have made as much clear to me as well. Last time, it was you who wanted space, who left for France with Thomas.”
Ren widened his eyes, and he jerked forward, laying his hand over Enzo’s once more.
“That is not true! I feel a great deal for you!”
“Friends. We have always been friends. Even if we cannot live with each other. I regret that I did not contact you more, but time just seemed to…” He shook his head. “I hope that we will continue to be friends, even if we cannot be lovers.”
Ren’s breath caught.
“If it is something I have done—”
“No, no. You have done nothing wrong. It is more that our timing in getting back together was perhaps not the best.”
Ren straightened, eyes narrowing. “That boy, Chase, has something to do with this. He wants you badly. Are you saying that he is…”
Enzo looked up at the waiter as the man offered wine. There was a brief tasting, and a discussion of the merits of the vintage, before both wineglasses were filled and the waiter departed.
He swirled the wine before sipping, his attention returning to Ren.
“It is so.” His tone was mild enough, but with the faintest edge of warning that suggested treading carefully.
“So, this is a moment’s distraction for you. His youth, his innocence.” Ren’s tone was neutral, though it was obvious that there was some anger building. Perhaps his ego felt he was being cast aside because of a mere boy…
Enzo paused, gently turning the stem of the wineglass between his long fingers, before he looked up, implacable resolve within his expression.
“He is very important to me.” He felt Ren’s skepticism. “I will not hurt him. That I swear. He will have no pain from me.”
Ren stiffened, jealous tension evident for a split second, before his expression smoothed.
“And how long can this last, Enzo? He is very young for you. And your life…is he prepared for what you do? What you are?”
Enzo gave a grim smile, a mere tilting of his lips. “Chase has gone through more than you or I will ever know. He is stronger than we could possibly understand.” The thread of admiration seemed to make Ren grit his teeth together.
“I see.” He lifted his wineglass and drank. “So, I assume this ‘talk’ is to inform me that I am no longer needed in your bed?” There was a faint bite to the words.
He watched him, feeling a fondness for his hot-tempered friend. “We have never held to each other, Ren. I have never held you back, never tried to chain you.”
Ren gave a small, grim smile, then seemed to gather himself.
His expression melted into acceptance, and he raised his wineglass. “A toast then, to your happiness, amico mio.”
Chapter Nine
Chase hummed to himself as he ate. Half of it was appreciation of Ms. Granger’s cooking; the other was joy at the news that Enzo was on his way home. Three days he had been gone, and he had missed him with every breath. His body ached for the Martinelli’s touch. He was perpetually aroused at the memories of their time together, and he could not sleep for want of that beloved form.
Rafe entered the kitchen and offered him a smile, though it was strained. Ever since it had become known that Chase was now Enzo’s lover, Rafe had been odd, stiff, and uncomfortable around Chase, when before their close ages had been a sort of bond between them.
Perhaps Rafe had hoped for more than being merely friends. The thought had crossed his mind before, but such a thing would never have occurred. His heart had been taken long ago, before he met Rafe.
He smiled back, hoping that they could work past this. He had too few friends to be blasé about losing Rafe. Rafe was part of the inner circle, and to be at odds with him would bring a tension into the household, something Enzo would never tolerate. Rafe would be sent elsewhere, a demotion of sorts, and he had no wish to be part of that. Rafe had worked hard to get where he was.
He watched the enforcer wander to the cabinets, pulling out a glass before turning to the fridge, and rummaging for some orange juice.
“I’m sorry I can’t be what you want, Rafe,” he said softly. The enforcer’s back tightened, muscles flexing, then he turned slowly, a dark flush high on his cheekbones, looking at him with incredulous eyes.
“You know?” His voice was harsh with horror.
He kept eye contact, nodding. “I value you as a friend. Please believe that. But that is all it could ever be. I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to be honest.”
Rafe stared at him for long moments, then lowered his eyes, and a small, wry smile passed over his features. “I always want the ones I can’t have. I think I knew from the beginning.”
Chase’s muscles slowly relaxed as it became clear that Rafe was taking this much better than he had expected. The enforcer’s words seemed to point to a history of such relationships, something he could not be held accountable for. It took away some of the guilt.
“Friends though?” He kept his tone even and steady. He wanted to make sure that his demeanor gave no hope to any residual thoughts Rafe may have.
Rafe watched him for long moments, before giving a soft, somewhat sad smile. “If that is all I can have, it is enough. Maybe you can give me tips on how to look for someone who is going to want me back.”
He grinned. “I am a pro at unresolved longing. If I can win, then so can you. We’ll work on it, you and I.”
Rafe nodded, and the moment smoothed over far better than Chase could ever have hoped for.
The enforcer glanced at his watch and stiffened, drinking the juice in a single gulp. “Shit, they are going to be back any second, and I have not got the vehicle out yet. Sergei will have my balls.”
He sprinted out of the kitchen with Chase’s surprised laughter floating after him.
He shoveled the last few mouthfuls down his throat, feeling excitement course through this body.
Enzo was coming home.
Enzo felt an unfamiliar anticipation curl within his stomach as he looked down upon his estate.
Tanglewood.
He had purchased the vast estate from a British millionaire many years ago and adopted the name. It had been built in an Italian style, and he had added to it, modernized it, but left the vast wild-treed grounds as they had been. It sprawled out under his gaze, three courtyards surrounded by porticos, the main building framing around each of them. The pool shone in the sunlight, taking up the fourth courtyard. A beautiful English garden wandered around the south side, with more formal trimmed hedges leading to the huge copper fronted doors of the entrance way. The vast circular driveway matched the size of the enormous house, and to the southwest gleamed a massive man-made lake. To the north, a huge garage complex loomed, with a collection of his priceless cars. East of it, the staff quarters encircled on three sides by the forest, home to all those who lived under his protection.
It was private and peaceful, the electrified fence that surrounded it far away, the guards unseen, a haven for those fortunate enough to live within the warm confines of the estate.
He w
as always glad to return. His home had always been a bulwark against the world, a place where he could forget the savagery that dwelt within him, the things he did, and the things he ordered others to do.
He could pretend to be normal within the boundaries of his home.
But now there was a new element to the relief he always felt. Now there was someone waiting for him, loving him in a manner he had never experienced before. Chase did not want his money, his connections, or anything else his world could offer.
Chase wanted him alone.
Enzo had no idea how to deal with such a thing. It was new and fresh, and it made him feel surprisingly young, free in a way he had never known. He had been honed and pressed into what his father wanted from the time he was a child. This feeling of personal freedom was strange, and he was not completely comfortable with it yet. Perhaps never would be. But if Chase was the one to give him this gift, he would tentatively explore it. It seemed that trust went both ways.
He smiled, ever so faintly. Trust was a thing he knew little of. Perhaps his young lover had just as much to teach Enzo as the other way round.
Sergei nudged him with an elbow.
“Good to see you smile for a change. That boy is going to be the making of you. Wait and see.”
He rolled his eyes, but could not wipe the happy expression away.
“We’ll see.”
The helicopter set down with soft precision, barely a jolt, and when the blades had slowed somewhat, two enforcers ran forward, bent down and shielding their eyes from the downdraft. They slid back the door and ushered him out, guiding him past the danger of the blades and to the waiting vehicle. He slid in, Sergei and Raymond close behind, and leaned back against the leather seat, letting out a breath of relief.
He was home.
He had half expected Chase to be in the vehicle, but knew his impatience was unwarranted. Chase would never push himself forward and certainly not at such a new stage in their relationship. He would be at the house, waiting impatiently.
The SUV climbed the steep hill up to the house with powerful ease, and pulled up to the front door. The driver, Rafe, looked over his shoulder at his employer, a familiar grin playing over his lips. “Welcome home, sir.”
He nodded to him and exited the vehicle with rather more haste than he was comfortable showing. He slowed his steps, hearing Sergei’s annoying chuckle behind him. Raymond took his briefcase from him, a small smile hovering on the edge of his lips, jerking his head slightly to the left.
Enzo followed his assistant’s gesture and caught his breath.
Chase stood at the bottom of the massive curving staircase, his face flushed, hands fidgeting restlessly together. He took a step forward, eagerness in every line of his body, then seemed to remember they had an audience, stopping uncertainly.
He stepped past Raymond, his eyes trained on Chase, an almost feral feeling of possession overtaking his senses.
He was his. All his.
Everything else faded but the desire to stake his claim.
Chase was blushing, but his eyes shone as they met his predatory stare.
He grasped Chase’s wrist and began to ascend the stairs with swift, impatient steps. Chase stumbled a little, but he pressed close, following with willing eagerness.
He flung open the door to his suite with impatience driving every move. Once within the sanctuary of his rooms, he released Chase, pulling at his own tie with swift efficiency. His gaze pinned Chase with hot need.
“Strip.” His usual cool, smooth tone was harsh with repressed lust.
Chase almost tore his T-shirt as he ripped it over his head with swift compliance to the order. His shorts and boxers followed, and then with a boldness foreign to his nature, he took the three steps necessary to bring his naked body flush against Enzo’s clothed form, his face canted up, blue eyes bright with want.
They kissed, and Enzo was almost gentle for the briefest of moments, before his feral nature took over, and he growled, biting at Chase’s lips, and thrusting his tongue deep within the pliant mouth of his younger lover.
Chase whimpered, standing on his toes, almost climbing Enzo’s form in an attempt to press himself closer.
He let his hands stroke down over Chase’s lean back, humming in his throat as he cupped rounded buttocks, and forced their rigid erections against each other, flexing his hips, closing his eyes at the rampant need that seemed to overtake all sense of control.
Chase unfastened his suit jacket, pushing it back off Enzo’s shoulders with impatient fingers. Dispensing with his usual fastidiousness, he let it fall in a crumpled heap upon the floor, grunting with approval as Chase immediately set to work on difficult shirt buttons.
Far too many of the damn things it seemed to both of them. It was a relief for him to shrug himself free of the impediment, to feel the caress of Chase’s long fingers over his chest and stomach, dipping under the waistband of his slacks. He sucked in a shuddering breath. If Chase touched his throbbing cock, it would be over in a matter of seconds.
“On the bed.” His voice was a mere husk of sound, his need making him almost incoherent. He could not remember ever being this hot, even in his youth. He had to have Chase, now.
Chase obeyed, scrambling up on the massive bed and laying on his back, one hand grasping his cock with whitened fingers, as though he sought to hold back his own orgasm. Obviously it was not just him who needed this with such intensity.
The way Chase touched himself, the slight unconscious movement of his hips, the way he licked his lips, made him blaze with want. Dear God, but the boy was beautiful.
He unfastened his pants with slow care, feeling the heat rise within him as Chase’s eyes followed every movement, heat flushing those pale cheeks. Careful not to touch his own member, he toed his shoes off, before pushing his pants and boxers down with alacrity.
Chase made a small noise in his throat, eyes fixed upon Enzo’s cock with such hungry intensity that he gritted his teeth, unbearably turned on by that simple sound.
Two strides, and he was beside the bed, a growl rumbling up through his throat as Chase spread his legs wide, arching himself wantonly, need in every line of his lithe body.
He froze, seeing the unmistakable sign of moisture on Chase’s hole.
The little devil…
He grinned, feeling the fire rise in his groin. Reaching for Chase’s ankles, he dragged him to the edge of the bed before lifting his legs high and wide, exposing him utterly. Holding Chase’s legs in place with one arm, he reached down and directed his cock, rubbing over that enticing entrance, feeling the taut resistance.
“Please,” Chase whispered, eyes fixed upon him pleadingly, arms spread wide and fingers clenching upon the sheets.
He pressed forward, trying to restrain his feral side enough to remember that Chase needed some degree of gentleness to become accustomed to sexual activity once more. It took all of his will to go slowly, to sink into that incredible heat in small increments, retreating, then thrusting more deeply. When at last he was balls deep, he stood motionless for long moments, savoring the sensations.
The sound of Chase’s small, panting breaths brought him back, and he stared down into that familiar face, a strange sort of possessiveness filling every pore of his being. Stronger than anything he had felt for a lover before. Powerful. He shook his head, seeking to drive the feeling away.
Grasping Chase’s ankles up and out, he pulled him more snugly against his thighs.
Chase’s eyes were wide, his gaze fixed on his face as though imprinting every expression his lover made. He rolled his hips, pressing deeper. The slow glide was beyond pleasurable, the tightness of Chase’s channel encasing his cock with delicious heat. He could feel the pull on the head of his member with each withdrawal, sensitivity making him gasp, a sound he could never recall making during sex before.
What this boy did to him…
He parted his legs, bracing himself, before driving deeper, a harsh exhale of breath escap
ing him with each thrust.
Chase writhed on the bed, unable to reach him, incredibly erotic sounds escaping his throat. He stared up at him as though he held every answer, as though he were the sun and moon both.
He could endure the separation no longer and released Chase’s legs, setting a knee on the bed, as he pushed his lover further up onto the mattress. Harshly he took Chase’s lips, savoring the moans, the way Chase’s fingers clutched at him, raking through his hair and then sliding down his back, settling upon his buttocks and pulling feverishly.
Sweat beaded upon his brow, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gusts. He wanted this so much that his usual stamina seemed nowhere in existence. There was so much heat, so much want and need…
Chase arched beneath him, a scream stolen from his lips, as he plundered his mouth, wanting even the sound to be his own.
The sudden tightness, the sweet heat spasming around his cock threw him over the edge of endurance.
With a hoarse moan of completion, he thrust so deep that he drove Chase up the bed, once, twice, then froze in place, arched, head hanging back, his vision going almost white for a moment.
Waves of pleasure crashed over him, each pulling his senses close, then away again, as though he hardly had any control of his body. He trembled, hardly realizing he was doing so, before collapsing to his elbows.
In some corner of his mind, he knew he could not crush Chase, so he pulled out slowly, before rolling to the side, face buried against Chase’s neck, each rasping pant drawing in the scent of his lover.
It took time to come back to himself, something that would have worried him before. Now he could not bring himself to care.
Chase gently combed through his hair with a shaking hand, stroking it back from his sweat-soaked forehead.
“I’m so glad you’re home.” Chase’s weak whisper was punctuated with a kiss.
So was he.
He closed his eyes and drew Chase closer with one arm. He might never leave again.
Chase woke, blinking at the sun that spilled through the blinds, and across the bed. He felt so replete, so content…
