and I wasn’t there.”
Seth couldn’t stand that gaze, so he looked
away, hugging his own knees. “Dom…”
“What?” Domenico dropped to his ass,
scratching the wooden floor with his nails.
“Do you still like me?” Seth managed after a
longer period of silence. He didn’t know what to say to this whole
fucked-up situation.
“Would you like someone who hurt your pride
this way?” Domenico stretched out his legs, staring at the rows of
preserves in front of him.
Seth leaned his temple
against the wall and hugged himself. His pride had been thoroughly
violated. How could Domenico not see that? He flinched when Dom
slowly rose to his feet and moved toward the door. He left without
a word, but each slow, heavy step on the stairs outside spoke
volumes.
Seth stayed in the darkness and couldn’t
comprehend what had just happened. All he knew was that his muscles
hurt and a jar of fig marmalade lay broken next to his foot.
Instead of whetting his appetite, it made him feel queasy.
Chapter
6
Domenico looked into the bright lights of the
Villani house from his quiet place on a bench in the shadow of the
trees. He liked this garden, even on a day like this. He didn’t
feel like leaving yet, pulled close by the smells and sounds of the
people who made him who he was. He would have amounted to nothing
without them, without those walls, even without the horrible weeks
in the cellar.
He caressed the lacquered wood and stared at
the stray leaves on the ground. There weren’t all that many with
gardeners working around the villa every day, but it was November
after all.
He wished he wasn’t alone.
But then, he wasn’t. The touch of fingers on
his shoulders made his muscles tense up. It spoke of familiarity,
so he didn’t try to push the other man away, instead raising his
hands to touch Seth’s warm hand. He closed his eyes when fingers
slid lower down his torso, but something wasn’t quite right. They
were long and slim, so unlike Seth’s thick, rough digits. Bile rose
in Dom’s throat, and he spun his upper body around, ready to
fight.
“No need to get so tense,” the consigliere
said, his narrow lips spreading into a smile that looked decidedly
wolfish in the weak light. His face was just inches away from
Dom’s, and he never pulled his arms away, keeping them all too
close to skin.
“We have an agreement,” said Domenico in a
voice as calm as he was able to produce. “I don’t like the way you
touch me.”
The consigliere pulled back with a sigh and
placed his hands on the backrest of the bench. “Dom, always so
hurtful.” He sighed and pulled out a cigarette. “But I suppose you
do prefer the beefier kind.”
“I’m surprised you still notice me with that
new twink around.” Domenico moved away under the pretense of having
to face him properly, but all he wanted was to be out of the
bastard’s reach.
The consigliere lit his cigarette with a
smirk. “Ah, he’s nothing like you, Dom. Soft as butter.”
Domenico kept a small smile on his lips, but
his stomach convulsed. He had been anything but soft throughout the
time of their so-called relationship. “Good for you. Too much
stress isn’t good at your age.”
The consigliere laughed. “So much spite.
Watch out or you’ll get wrinkles yourself from that sour attitude.”
He walked around the bench and sat down next to Dom, much too close
for his liking.
“I would still be handsome.” Domenico leaned
back, praying to God to give him a reason to go without looking
like a coward. He didn’t want that man anywhere near him.
“Of course you would. With a queue of
admirers. You were getting too hairy for me.” Frederico sucked in
some smoke, glancing at Dom’s profile.
It was hard to keep himself from taking a
big, fat drag of a cigarette, but Domenico didn’t want to seem weak
so he endured the temptation, watching the white swirls in the air.
“It doesn’t seem to deter you from touching me.”
“We had a long time
Seth couldn’t stand that gaze, so he looked
away, hugging his own knees. “Dom…”
“What?” Domenico dropped to his ass,
scratching the wooden floor with his nails.
“Do you still like me?” Seth managed after a
longer period of silence. He didn’t know what to say to this whole
fucked-up situation.
“Would you like someone who hurt your pride
this way?” Domenico stretched out his legs, staring at the rows of
preserves in front of him.
Seth leaned his temple
against the wall and hugged himself. His pride had been thoroughly
violated. How could Domenico not see that? He flinched when Dom
slowly rose to his feet and moved toward the door. He left without
a word, but each slow, heavy step on the stairs outside spoke
volumes.
Seth stayed in the darkness and couldn’t
comprehend what had just happened. All he knew was that his muscles
hurt and a jar of fig marmalade lay broken next to his foot.
Instead of whetting his appetite, it made him feel queasy.
Chapter
6
Domenico looked into the bright lights of the
Villani house from his quiet place on a bench in the shadow of the
trees. He liked this garden, even on a day like this. He didn’t
feel like leaving yet, pulled close by the smells and sounds of the
people who made him who he was. He would have amounted to nothing
without them, without those walls, even without the horrible weeks
in the cellar.
He caressed the lacquered wood and stared at
the stray leaves on the ground. There weren’t all that many with
gardeners working around the villa every day, but it was November
after all.
He wished he wasn’t alone.
But then, he wasn’t. The touch of fingers on
his shoulders made his muscles tense up. It spoke of familiarity,
so he didn’t try to push the other man away, instead raising his
hands to touch Seth’s warm hand. He closed his eyes when fingers
slid lower down his torso, but something wasn’t quite right. They
were long and slim, so unlike Seth’s thick, rough digits. Bile rose
in Dom’s throat, and he spun his upper body around, ready to
fight.
“No need to get so tense,” the consigliere
said, his narrow lips spreading into a smile that looked decidedly
wolfish in the weak light. His face was just inches away from
Dom’s, and he never pulled his arms away, keeping them all too
close to skin.
“We have an agreement,” said Domenico in a
voice as calm as he was able to produce. “I don’t like the way you
touch me.”
The consigliere pulled back with a sigh and
placed his hands on the backrest of the bench. “Dom, always so
hurtful.” He sighed and pulled out a cigarette. “But I suppose you
do prefer the beefier kind.”
“I’m surprised you still notice me with that
new twink around.” Domenico moved away under the pretense of having
to face him properly, but all he wanted was to be out of the
bastard’s reach.
The consigliere lit his cigarette with a
smirk. “Ah, he’s nothing like you, Dom. Soft as butter.”
Domenico kept a small smile on his lips, but
his stomach convulsed. He had been anything but soft throughout the
time of their so-called relationship. “Good for you. Too much
stress isn’t good at your age.”
The consigliere laughed. “So much spite.
Watch out or you’ll get wrinkles yourself from that sour attitude.”
He walked around the bench and sat down next to Dom, much too close
for his liking.
“I would still be handsome.” Domenico leaned
back, praying to God to give him a reason to go without looking
like a coward. He didn’t want that man anywhere near him.
“Of course you would. With a queue of
admirers. You were getting too hairy for me.” Frederico sucked in
some smoke, glancing at Dom’s profile.
It was hard to keep himself from taking a
big, fat drag of a cigarette, but Domenico didn’t want to seem weak
so he endured the temptation, watching the white swirls in the air.
“It doesn’t seem to deter you from touching me.”
“We had a long time
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