ears and forehead. Cary longed to run his fingers through those curls and feel the short hairs tickle his upper lip as he licked the skin at the nape of his companion’s neck.
“I had fun today,” Cary said as he brought the tiny cup of fragrant coffee to his lips.
“You sound surprised.”
Cary saw the challenge in Antonio’s eyes and offered a conciliatory smile. “I guess I am.”
“You don’t get to visit your nephews often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. And when I’m there, I don’t spend much time with them. Like I said, I hate kids.”
The truth was that Cary had always been a little afraid of his three boisterous nephews—afraid he’d bore them, or not like what they wanted to do and be bored himself. He’d never played much as a child since he’d always been too busy practicing, and he honestly wasn’t sure what kids liked to do. He’d never watched much TV, and he hadn’t owned a single video or computer game. The only reason he knew anything about games at all was from watching his brother play.
“Besides,” Cary added, “they’d probably think I was about as far from cool as you could get.”
“You’d be surprised. Kids mostly just want someone to pay attention to them. Massi thinks you’re great. Are you any more cool around him? He thinks you’re a nice guy. And so does his papà,” he added.
Cary’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, and without really thinking, he reached for Antonio’s jaw. God, but he wanted to kiss Antonio, to taste him!
Antonio did not pull away but searched Cary’s face as if he were expecting to see something there, then put his own hand over Cary’s as the corners of his mouth edged oh-so-faintly upward. But he did not kiss Cary, nor did he move closer.
Cary’s hunger now clawed at the back of his brain, urging him to do something, anything, to claim those full lips. He leaned forward with a questioning look in his eyes.
Oh God… I want this….
Antonio’s cell phone rang. Through his lust-clouded mind, Cary recognized the ring: Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” Cary had to smile. He had always loved that melody. It was one of the first pieces he had ever played.
“ Scusi ,” Antonio told Cary as he stood up. “That’s Francesca.”
Cary yawned and settled back on the couch, closing his eyes as he listened to Antonio recount their afternoon at the circus and make plans for Massimo’s weekend. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he heard was the sound of little feet trotting across the wood floor and a very loudly whispered, “Is he sleeping?”
“I think so,” came Antonio’s reply.
Apparently, for a five-year-old, a grown man falling asleep on the couch was just about the funniest thing imaginable.
Just wait until you’re a teenager , Cary thought as he repressed a laugh.
“Are you sleeping?” This time, the words were whispered directly into his ear.
“No!” Cary shouted, grabbing Massimo around the waist with his good arm and tickling him mercilessly. They rolled around for a minute or two, laughing, until Cary saw Antonio standing over them, holding Massimo’s coat.
“I hate to have to stop you two children,” Antonio said, “but I need to take Massi to my mother’s for the weekend. I have a client in town I need to meet, so he can’t stay with me.” Massimo climbed off Cary and made a disappointed face. “I can drop you off at your place, if you’d like, Connor.”
“Thanks,” Cary said, “but I thought I’d stop by a friend’s on my way home.” When had he gotten so smooth with the lies?
“Are you coming back to see me and Papà soon?” Massimo asked as they walked out of the building a few minutes later.
“I’ll do my best,” Cary promised. In spite of everything, Massimo had grown on him. And his father…. He had thought he had seen desire in Antonio’s gaze more than once that day, and yet here he was, facing the unsatisfying prospect of yet another night
“I had fun today,” Cary said as he brought the tiny cup of fragrant coffee to his lips.
“You sound surprised.”
Cary saw the challenge in Antonio’s eyes and offered a conciliatory smile. “I guess I am.”
“You don’t get to visit your nephews often?”
“Not as often as I’d like. And when I’m there, I don’t spend much time with them. Like I said, I hate kids.”
The truth was that Cary had always been a little afraid of his three boisterous nephews—afraid he’d bore them, or not like what they wanted to do and be bored himself. He’d never played much as a child since he’d always been too busy practicing, and he honestly wasn’t sure what kids liked to do. He’d never watched much TV, and he hadn’t owned a single video or computer game. The only reason he knew anything about games at all was from watching his brother play.
“Besides,” Cary added, “they’d probably think I was about as far from cool as you could get.”
“You’d be surprised. Kids mostly just want someone to pay attention to them. Massi thinks you’re great. Are you any more cool around him? He thinks you’re a nice guy. And so does his papà,” he added.
Cary’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, and without really thinking, he reached for Antonio’s jaw. God, but he wanted to kiss Antonio, to taste him!
Antonio did not pull away but searched Cary’s face as if he were expecting to see something there, then put his own hand over Cary’s as the corners of his mouth edged oh-so-faintly upward. But he did not kiss Cary, nor did he move closer.
Cary’s hunger now clawed at the back of his brain, urging him to do something, anything, to claim those full lips. He leaned forward with a questioning look in his eyes.
Oh God… I want this….
Antonio’s cell phone rang. Through his lust-clouded mind, Cary recognized the ring: Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” Cary had to smile. He had always loved that melody. It was one of the first pieces he had ever played.
“ Scusi ,” Antonio told Cary as he stood up. “That’s Francesca.”
Cary yawned and settled back on the couch, closing his eyes as he listened to Antonio recount their afternoon at the circus and make plans for Massimo’s weekend. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he heard was the sound of little feet trotting across the wood floor and a very loudly whispered, “Is he sleeping?”
“I think so,” came Antonio’s reply.
Apparently, for a five-year-old, a grown man falling asleep on the couch was just about the funniest thing imaginable.
Just wait until you’re a teenager , Cary thought as he repressed a laugh.
“Are you sleeping?” This time, the words were whispered directly into his ear.
“No!” Cary shouted, grabbing Massimo around the waist with his good arm and tickling him mercilessly. They rolled around for a minute or two, laughing, until Cary saw Antonio standing over them, holding Massimo’s coat.
“I hate to have to stop you two children,” Antonio said, “but I need to take Massi to my mother’s for the weekend. I have a client in town I need to meet, so he can’t stay with me.” Massimo climbed off Cary and made a disappointed face. “I can drop you off at your place, if you’d like, Connor.”
“Thanks,” Cary said, “but I thought I’d stop by a friend’s on my way home.” When had he gotten so smooth with the lies?
“Are you coming back to see me and Papà soon?” Massimo asked as they walked out of the building a few minutes later.
“I’ll do my best,” Cary promised. In spite of everything, Massimo had grown on him. And his father…. He had thought he had seen desire in Antonio’s gaze more than once that day, and yet here he was, facing the unsatisfying prospect of yet another night
Similar Books
