Page 85 of Corrado

They could only assume.

He partly blamed himself, and Corrado, too. Not that he ever said that to anyone, or his lover. A long time ago, they’d decided this was what they were going to be. Together, but only to each other. A thing, but it wasn’t open to public consumption.

Alessio was willing to do that.

It gave him what he wanted.

Corrado.

Somehow, they found a familiar rhythm like this. He didn’t push for something else, or for more, because what else was there to have when … in a lot of ways, he had it all.

Or did he?

People wouldn’t understand.

They shared everything.

A life.

Work.

A home.

Women.

Sex.

There was nothing in their lives that wasn’t somehow touched by both of them. So much so, that those closest to Corrado and Alessio thought the two of them were often extensions of the other. Without one, the other wasn’t right.

Nothing was right.

“What are you thinking about, huh?” Corrado asked, his voice thick with sleep and bliss. Probably still humming from that orgasm, and if all went well, Alessio would be the next one. “You’re quiet over there.”

“You like that, anyway.”

“Sometimes.”

Alessio grinned.

Corrado smirked right back.

Reaching over, he drifted his fingertips down the line of Corrado’s jaw still shadowed with a few days’ worth of scruff. “You do like it when I’m quiet. Admit it.”

It was true.

Corrado thrived on attention.

Alessio just liked to watch.

“And when you’re a shit,” Corrado added.

He laughed. “Yeah, that, too.”

“And don’t deflect. What were you thinking?”

Alessio sighed, his gaze going back to the large, glimmering light fixture above the bed. Only Corrado would know something was going on in Alessio’s mind when he was quiet. No one else saw him in his silent moments and thought, something’s happening there. They were all too willing to let him stew, even if they didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

Not Corrado, though.