Acrobat (21 page)

I got up and went to stand by the mantle as he woke his nephew enough to steer him to the guest bedroom. Watching Michael stagger away with Dreo’s hands on his shoulders was very sweet. I tried to focus on that to calm my racing heart.

In minutes he was back, wrapping his arms around me, one gently draped around my neck, the other across my chest.

“Come on, let me take you to bed,” he said after he squeezed me tight.

It was nice, the way he stepped back and took my hand and gently pulled me after him. He left me to turn off the lights, told me he had to do a quick walk-around like he did in his own loft before he went to bed.

I was lying facedown when he came back. I heard him close the door behind him before I felt his hand on my ass, pulling down pajamas and underwear at the same time.

“Dreo,” I whispered as I felt his mouth on my right butt cheek.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, and I had a moment of panic that he was going to leave me, that he had taken his name for an admonishment when it was instead an invitation.

I lifted up to turn my head only to find the man shoving his sweats down to his knees and flipping open a bottle of lube, a wrapped condom between his teeth.

“You can’t sleep yet.”

I shivered, lying back down, my hand sliding under my hip, fingers wrapping around my cock as he straddled me from behind.

“Say yes to me, Nate,” he ordered, and I heard the sound of ripping foil.

“Oh fuck yes.”

The sound he made, part grunt, part growl, all sex and approval, made me breathless.

I lifted my ass so I could get him inside of me quicker, then gasped as I felt the long, thick, hard shaft sliding between my cheeks, parting them and pressing against my entrance.

I had missed it so much, the claiming, the desire, and now the physical marks on my body, evidence that I had been taken, were added to that. It was primal and was not something I shared with anyone outside my bedroom, my need to be dominated. I had begged Duncan to use his handcuffs on me, but he had never believed that I wanted my power stripped away, that I would allow that. He had never trusted me enough to take me at my word.

There was the burn, the stretch, and then his weight over me, pinning me to the mattress as he pushed and shoved inside my body. The tears were involuntary, the pleasure overwhelming, and I shuddered beneath him and cried out.

“I want to tie you down,” Dreo whispered as his hand covered my mouth so my howl of pleasure was muffled. “And I wanna gag you. Will you let me?”

I nodded, barely able to answer, to breathe, squirming and writhing under him, wanting him deeper, loving the rhythm he was setting, the slow, sensual thrust and retreat, as he sucked and bit my shoulder.

“You wanna be mine so badly,” he groaned, grasping my jaw firmly, his middle finger slipping between my lips.

I sucked on his finger as he filled my ass, thrust hard and retreated, over and over. The man was huge, and I felt every inch of him inside me.

“Nate. Say yes… you wanna be mine.”

“Yours. Yes,” I barely whispered the words.

And it was just insane. I wasn’t in love; I had barely spoken to the man in the four years I’d known him. His motivations, his thoughts, these were all unknowns, but what I did know of him, of his heart, I was crazy about. He was always there, so close, taken for granted and yet utterly depended on.

“Lift up,” he ordered and pulled out at the same time.

I sucked in my breath, the emptiness almost physically painful as I teetered on the edge of my shattering orgasm.

Rough hands were on my hips as he wrenched me backward to the edge of the bed, the tops of my feet falling over the side as my face was forced down between my bent knees. I felt like a compressed accordion before I felt the nudge at my opening and he pressed inside of me, burying himself to the hilt in one long, smooth forward thrust.

“Dreo!”

My ass was slapped hard, and I felt it hot and stinging on my cheek as his other hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head up and sideways so he could ravish my mouth as he pounded into my body.

“I can’t—I, Dreo.” I moaned out the man’s name as my balls tightened, as my muscles fisted around his cock, clamping down with the force of my release.

He hammered me through my shuddering climax and the aftershocks that tore through me. I felt him swell inside of me, but there was no release, no wet and silken heat filling me, flooding me, and I wanted it, missed it.

“You need to get those test results,” I told him when my teeth stopped chattering.

“Why?” he asked as he nibbled on my ear, on the skin behind it and down the side of my neck. His soft lips, warm breath, and gravelly voice made me shiver anew.

“Because,” I whispered, “I want the same thing you do, for you to fill my ass with cum.”

He jolted behind me, and I knew that the idea of coating my insides was way more than appealing. It was a deep, throbbing need. “I’ll have them next week. I’ll bring them to you as soon as I can.”

I smiled and he collapsed over me, arms wrapped around my chest, squeezing, pressing, holding me so tight.

He was still buried inside of me, and that, along with his sweat-slick skin plastered to mine, his mouth open on my shoulder, his heart beating against my back, let me surrender. I finally, completely, let my walls down and took a breath.

“That’s it, trust me,” he growled, nuzzling my hair.

I had forgotten how much I loved to just be held tight.

“
Tesoro
.”

I closed my eyes.

Chapter 10

D
REO
’
S
sigh as he looked both of us over made me smile.

“What?” Michael asked him as he fiddled with his iPod.

“You both clean up real nice.”

He shrugged, taking the compliment like it meant nothing even though the slight curve of his mouth said different.

Dreo’s hand went around the back of my neck, and he dragged his thumb along the newly shaved line of my jaw. “Especially you,
piccolo
.”

Having risen early, I had attacked my beard first with my electric shaver and then the straight razor that my father had given me years before. I had taken my time, been meticulous, and, after showering, emerged from the bathroom in time to watch Dreo wake up.

“Who the fuck are you?” He had tipped his head at me.

I grinned wide, and his catch of breath was worth all the effort.

“Dimples?” he said, clutching his heart. “I had no idea you were so pretty.”

My eyebrow lifted, and he motioned me toward the bed.

“Get your ass up and get over to your place and shower and change into your suit.”

“
Un bacino, per favore
,” he growled.

I walked to my bed, which he looked heartstoppingly good in, and bent down to kiss him.

“You’re learning Italian,” he whispered.

“No,” I said huskily, “I just know what I want.”

His hands were on my face as he parted his lips for me. I had a second to take in the thick eyelashes that grazed his cheek, the long, straight nose, and the sexy curve of his mouth before I took what I wanted and kissed him until he was breathless.

“Jesus, Nate,” he panted when I pulled back, his dark eyes staring up at me.

I waggled my eyebrows. “With the beard gone, I don’t look so old, right?”

“You never looked old,” he told me, reaching out again only to have me step back beyond his reach. “And I love the beard, always have.”

“Yes but without it I for sure don’t look old.” I grinned slyly, admiring the flush on his smooth skin, his shallow breaths, and his swollen lips.

“Come here,” he rasped, and I saw the way the sheet was now tented over his groin.

I shook my head. “Get up. We have to grab coffee and a donut or something on the way.”

Walking to my closet, I was surprised when I was grabbed from behind and shoved face-first into the wall. And I understood the action for more than what it seemed. This thing between us was brand new. He wanted me, I wanted him back, and we were combustible at present, flaring at impossible times because we were both hungry for the other. But more than that, he needed the connection, like putting on armor, before he faced the outside world. The hard hands on my hips meant more than simply that he wanted to fuck.

“Tell me what you want,” I ordered hoarsely.

He slid his hard, twitching cock over my crease and I moaned softly.

“You used me kind of hard last night,” I told him, turning in his embrace to face him. “But I can suck you.”

That he went instantly to his knees was a surprise. His eyes as he looked up at me, easing my sweats down so that my own hard cock bobbed free, were enough to pull a groan up from my diaphragm. The man was simply the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

“I’m gonna come just putting this in my mouth,” he told me, and I saw that he was already stroking himself as his lips parted and slid over the end of my leaking shaft.

The whine was involuntary as he took my dick down the back of his throat and swallowed around me. My head fell back, knocking against the wall, and his chuckle, more than anything, made me jolt.

We could have fun, we could laugh and joke, and sex didn’t need to be this serious business every time. It was such a gift. I shivered with happiness.

There was no way to last, the sucking, the laving, the swirl of his tongue, the sounds he made, his moan when I put my hand in his hair, his urging of me to fuck his mouth.

“I can’t… we need to be tested, and—”

“Just me, not you…. You probably have a piece of paper you can show me right now.”

I did too. “Yes.”

“Nate,” he whimpered. “Please.”

I was too close, the suction, the heat, the slide—it was all too much. I warned him, tried to pull out, but his hand on my ass flexed and held, and I was gone.

As he drank me down, I watched him, the muscles in his throat, his eyes as they screwed shut with pleasure, and the way he pumped in and out of his own hand as he came. As he licked me clean, I yanked on his hair to get him to stand.

His eyes were slits of heat when he rose over me.

“Kiss me.” I lifted for it.

He bent but didn’t give me what I wanted.

“I wanna taste me on your tongue.”

His lips pressed down over mine in an openmouthed kiss so my tongue could slide over his, tangle and suck. My arms around his neck were tight and claiming, and when I felt his hand on the back of my head, cradling it, between the tenderness and the passion, I was undone. Jesus, whatever the hell he wanted, he just had to ask. But the sum of his desire seemed to be kissing me until my mind went blank, and stroking my ass over and over and over.

And now, an hour later, at the front door, he was looking at me like just me being there, going with him to the funeral, was the best gift I could have given him.

“You look weird without your beard,” Michael told me. “Just sayin’.”

I rolled my eyes and opened the door so the three of us could head out.

Dreo wanted to drive, so we took his Mercedes with the black limousine tinted windows and headed downtown. It was raining and dark, and the closer we got, the more somber the feeling in the car was.

The church was awash in enormous elaborate floral arrangements, and Dreo left us to go sit with Sal and Mr. Romelli’s family up front while Michael and I took seats on the side toward the back. We both had our overcoats in our laps as mass began. Having not been raised Catholic, Methodist instead, I let Michael be my guide for what was happening and what I was supposed to do. There was no way not to be impressed by the size and grandeur of the cathedral, the pomp of the processional, and the distinguished, regal-looking priest. Just the spectacle was amazing.

Mass was beautiful, and then Father Ross invited people to come up and speak about Mr. Romelli. His wife and daughters took the podium and then other friends, people from the community, and finally his son, Joseph. Michael started leaning against me, and I knew that all of it was getting to him. He had not been to a funeral since his mother’s, and it was beginning to hurt. I moved my arm, draped it around the back of the pew, and he pressed his knee to mine. It was nice that he allowed himself to take comfort from me.

The priest retook the podium then and spoke for a bit about the kind of man Mr. Romelli was and his charitable activities and donations to the church. The end was nice: there was singing, and then the priest invited everyone to stay for refreshments provided by the family before everyone drove to the cemetery. After the burial, there was a late lunch at the Romelli home for friends and family, and I wondered if Dreo was invited to that or not.

Since he had to ride in one of the limousines, Dreo walked back to us when everyone was dismissed for refreshments before the trip to the cemetery.

“Here,” he said, passing me his keys before putting one hand on the back of my neck and draping his other arm around Michael’s shoulders. “How’re you two holding up?”

“We’re fine.” Michael smiled, leaning into him. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” He nodded, smiling. “Come with me.”