(Blue Notes 2)The Melody Thief (16 page)

More than that, really. Need. Pure and simple. The need to be the object of someone else’s attentions, and not because of his music.

“What are you thinking about, caro?”

“Nothing,” Cary lied, happy that the semidarkness hid the blush on his cheeks.
You really are a fucking Disney princess!

“Hmm.”

“All right, all right,” Cary protested. “I was sort of thinking I like this.”

“This?”

“Shit, Tonino. You really like watching me squirm, don’t you?”

“
Sì
.”

“Fine,” Cary said, sitting up and glaring at Antonio. “I like being here, with you.”

“I like hearing that.” He pulled Cary back down and kissed him on the lips. “I know it’s not an easy thing for you to admit.”

“I guess not.” It was more than that, Cary knew. The entire thing—their relationship, the growing commitment he felt toward Antonio—frightened him to no end. And he wasn’t sure
why
.

Instinctively, Cary glanced over to the bedside table. The photograph of Massimo and Antonio was gone, replaced by a newer photo—one of Cary and Antonio, laughing and raising their wine glasses for the camera. Aiden had snapped it at David’s Thanksgiving celebration just a few months before, and Cary had been happy to see it appear by the bed shortly after that. The photograph of Massimo was now part of the large collection of photographs of Antonio’s family out in the living room. Cary still hadn’t asked Antonio about Massimo, although he longed to know more.

“I know it’s a little soon,” Antonio said after a prolonged silence, during which he held Cary close, “but I’d like you to think about the two of us getting an apartment together. Something big enough for your studio, with an extra room for Massimo.”

“Why?” The minute the question was out of his mouth, Cary regretted asking it. He wanted to know the answer, but he feared it as well.

“I want to wake up to you every morning,” Antonio said in an undertone as he drew Cary against his chest once more. “I want to be the person you come home to when you’ve been traveling.”

“Why?” His voice was small and muffled against Antonio’s chest. He imagined himself as a little boy in front of the crowd of people, deathly afraid they’d learn his secret: that he was unworthy.

“
Ti amo
, caro,” Antonio whispered. “I love you.”

For the first time he could remember, Cary fought back tears.

Antonio sat up and gazed down at Cary, then bent over and kissed him on the lips. Cary sighed audibly as Antonio trailed his lips over his cheeks and nose. Cary shivered at the delicate contact and closed his eyes as he just let himself
feel
for a moment. Antonio moved to straddle him, ghosting his mouth over Cary’s neck and pausing to lick at the indentation at Cary’s throat.

“God… Tonino… that feels so—”

Cary’s words were interrupted by Antonio’s mouth on his nipple, his tongue circling until it hardened. Using one hand to support himself over Cary, Antonio combed his fingers through Cary’s hair, nails scraping his scalp. Cary drew a deep breath that caught in his throat. In the silence, it felt so loud, so vulnerable to Cary’s ears.

What had become of the man who craved hard, nameless fucks? Even the voice of insecurity—the thief who had struggled to reassert himself only moments before—fell silent. This was everything. This man who had just told him he loved him, who wanted
him
, Cary Redding.
Antonio
was everything.

“Tonino, I—”

“Shh, caro. Let me show you how much I love you. How much I want you.”

Cary felt wet heat as Antonio glided his mouth further downward. He heard Antonio inhale the scent of him. Soft hair tickled his belly as Antonio probed and licked, his firm hands supporting Cary’s body to draw it closer.

“Roll over,” Antonio said in the deep, sexy voice that made Cary weak with need.

A moment later Cary felt Antonio’s hands massage the tightness in his shoulders, his strong thumbs pressing under Cary’s shoulder blades to release the tension there. Antonio continued the sensual massage as he kneaded the muscles of Cary’s ass, nipping and licking the skin so that Cary moaned into the pillow.

“
T’amo
.” The words were whispered into his waist and followed by another feathered kiss.

Cary’s hunger, his need to have Antonio inside of him, burned hot, but for once, he did not protest Antonio’s slow and deliberate ministrations. He reveled in them. And when Antonio gently spread the globes of his ass and he felt a warm, wet tongue press against his hole, he keened and rose to meet it. Patterns of colorful light flickered and burst across his vision as Antonio worked his way inside, and Cary’s already hard cock throbbed.

“So good… ahhh… so good.” Cary’s brain didn’t want to work properly, but he couldn’t stay silent.

“Touch yourself,” Antonio said as he came up for breath. “I want to hear you say my name when you come. I want to feel it when you do.”

He probed further inward as Cary knelt and took his erection in his hand, stroking and pulling on it as Antonio’s mouth and tongue continued to play with his hole. Antonio moaned, and Cary gasped as he felt a finger replace the tongue, reaching for the place inside that sent shockwaves throughout Cary’s body.

“More,” Cary begged. “Please… more….”

A second finger joined the first, and then a third. “That’s it,” Antonio said, his free hand scraping the skin behind Cary’s cock.

“Please… oh, please….”

“What do you want, caro mio?”

“I want you inside of me when I come….”

Cary felt Antonio’s fingers withdraw, replaced by Antonio’s cock pressing inside, filling him. It wasn’t the first time since they had been tested that they had made love bareback, but it had never felt so sensual before, the feeling of Antonio’s bare skin. Cary heard Antonio’s satisfied hiss as he pressed back to seat Antonio completely within.

Antonio’s movements were slow and deliberate, his hand coaxing Cary’s own erection, adding to the intensity of the experience. Cary didn’t even fantasize about the bars anymore—he dreamed of
this
. He wanted Antonio’s smell in his nostrils. He wanted the feel of Antonio’s hard body against his own, the soft pads of his fingers on his nipples, his hair against his back. He wanted everything that was Antonio.

“I’m going to come,” Cary said.

“Do it. Say my name and do it.”

“Tonino! Oh fuck! Tonino!” Cary struggled for control, then gave up. Why try to control it? Why fight it? “Tonino. Tonino,” he repeated as he felt Antonio’s body tense and heard his lover’s cries as he came, as well.

Oh God, Tonino!
“I love you too.”

Chapter 13

L
IFE
AS
W
E
K
NOW
I
T

Chicago, Illinois—March

“
M
AN, I love this place!” Cary opened the glass doors of the penthouse onto the large patio overlooking Lake Michigan. A blast of cold air blew off the water, and he shivered, his T-shirt and pajama bottoms giving him no protection from the harsh wind.

“Do you have a death wish, Redding?” Alex growled from behind him. “It’s barely above freezing.”

Cary followed Alex back inside a moment later, laughing. “Not my fault your old man only wants to hire me in the winter.”

“You’re the one who’s always saying how much you hate Milan in winter, what with Fashion Week and Carnivale. I’d think you’d be happy to get out of that place. Besides, it’s spring.”

“You wouldn’t know it out there, now would you?” Cary snorted and shook his head. “Tell your partner I want to perform in summer, next time.”

“Disparaging the host?” David walked past them, coffee in hand, eyebrow raised in feigned indignation.

“The maestro is having a bit of a midlife crisis,” Alex joked.

David sniffed loudly enough for Alex and Cary to hear, and kept walking toward his studio. The sounds of a piano could be heard throughout the apartment a few minutes later.

“Great job at the dress rehearsal last night, by the way.” Alex motioned Cary to take a seat at the breakfast table, where Sarah, the housekeeper, had set out a large continental breakfast of bread, croissants, cheese, and meats.

“Thanks.” Cary poured them both large cups of coffee with hot milk. “David makes it easy. So what’s the schedule to rehearse the Brahms?”

“We’ll go over it, just the three of us, today and tomorrow. David won’t want to play anything but the Dvořák or the Beethoven the day of the performance. Besides, you’ll want to rest up. After the concert, we’ll have another week to get it polished up. We’ve got three full days of studio time to record.”

“Great. That’s more than I’d expected.” Cary popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. “Sushi for dinner tonight? Not that we don’t have it in Milan, but….”

“You got it. First dinner out in Chicago—it’s tradition, right?”

“It should be.”

Alex took a long drink of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “So, have you spoken to Antonio?”

“Called him last night before the dress rehearsal. Massi was spending the night with him. Took me ten minutes to explain to him how my cell phone works over here. Gotta love the brat.”

“Sounds like you do.”

Cary sighed. “Tonino wants us to find an apartment together. You know, something big, with a rehearsal studio for me and a bedroom for the kid.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Yeah.” Cary picked absentmindedly at a croissant. “And it scares the shit out of me.”

“
And
?” Alex leaned over the table and grinned.

“And I think I’m going to tell him yes.”

“You
think
?”

“It’s not exactly something I’d ever really given much thought to,” Cary shot back defensively. “I hadn’t planned this…
any
of this.”

“No kidding. So what gives?”

“I’m in love with the guy.
That’s
what gives. And what isn’t there to love? He’s smart, funny, sexy as hell, and he treats me better than I deserve.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Sorry. That was a bit defensive, wasn’t it?”

“It’s okay. And I agree—he’s a great guy.”

“But?” In Cary’s experience, there was always a “but.”

“But it’s not easy… relationships… living with someone,” Alex answered in a gentle voice.

Cary looked down at his coffee and sighed. “I have no clue what I’m doing, Alex. I’ve never even dated before. And now it’s like instant family, with Massi. I haven’t even met Tonino’s mother and sisters yet, and I—”

“They’ll love you, Cary. That’s the easy part. The other part, the relationship part, that’s more work. Tell Tonino what you’re feeling. It’s been a while for him.”

“Did you know Massimo?” Cary still hadn’t had the courage to broach the subject with Antonio again, although it nagged at him. He wanted to know what happened, to understand. Francesca had said only that it was Antonio’s story to tell, and Cary hadn’t pushed the issue.

“No. I met Antonio through David about four or five years ago. The only thing I know was that Massimo was killed in a car crash and Antonio nearly died, as well.”

So that was it. It explained the scar and Antonio’s reaction when Cary had asked him about it. “He said they were together for eight years, and that he died a year before Massi was born. That would have made him what—nineteen?—when they first got together. But that’s all he’s been willing to tell me.”

“Give him time.”

“I know. I will.” What other choice was there, really?

Besides, isn’t it a little juvenile to be jealous of a dead man?

T
HE next few days were spent in David’s studio, rehearsing the Brahms. As promised, David did not ask them to practice on Saturday, the day of Cary’s performance with the symphony. Instead, he treated them all to high tea at Russian Tea Time, a light meal consisting of sandwiches and scones along with the house tea.

“You’ll eat plenty at the reception tonight,” Alex said when Cary looked with skeptical resignation at the modest meal. “Doris Pinchley-Bates has the best spreads. She’s been gushing about you since last year, so I’m guessing it’ll be even more over-the-top than her usual shindig.”

Cary spent the first half of the program listening to the Beethoven from the wings. At last, on stage an hour later, he closed his eyes and listened to the long orchestral introduction to the Dvořák, noting with pleasure the richness David was able to coax from the string section and the clear, powerful tones of the horns as they took over the melody from their stringed counterparts.

He adored this music, from its dark and demanding opening theme to the more subdued secondary theme in the brass and the woodwinds. The warmth of the sound from the orchestra behind him sent chills down his spine as he opened his eyes once again and looked up for David’s cue. The conductor met his eyes with a trace of a smile on his lips, then lifted his baton.