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Aleks seemed to rouse from his stupor after about a minute. He turned so he could rest his chin on his hands, which were folded on my chest. There was a soft smile on his face.
“What?” I asked as I toyed with his hair. The sweat had caused some of his curls to dampen and cling to his forehead.
“Now I know why naked sex is so much better,” he said.
I laughed and said, “Right?”
He carefully eased out of me and then slid up my body enough so he could kiss me on the mouth. “Yeah, naked sex means less laundry.”
I pinched his ass and he jumped and then rubbed his hand over his butt.
“And?” I said, pretending to be offended. “Is that the only reason naked sex is better?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Less laundry means using less water and water conservation is very important.” He grinned mischievously, then started to climb off me. I grabbed him and rolled him beneath me. I reached between us and quickly removed the condom from him and tossed it on the floor, knowing the chances I’d hit the wastebasket next to the bed were slim to none.
“Try again,” I said. I was glad that instead of tensing because I was lying on top of him, he seemed to sink into the mattress. He wound his arms around my neck.
“Luca will save a fortune on laundry detergent.”
I kissed him hard and fast. “Not even close.”
I almost forgot what we were talking about when he began kissing me back.
“I’ve got it,” he finally said and nodded his head like he’d had some big revelation. He kissed me victoriously. “You won’t need to buy more pajamas!”
I shook my head at him, but inside I was doing cartwheels at the mirth I saw on his face. It was just so goddamn natural. It was as much a part of him as a limb or organ. The men who’d hurt him had tried to wipe it out, but they’d failed.
“I guess we’re just going to need to have a lot more naked sex until the answer comes to you,” I declared.
He let out a rough sigh. “Fine, if we must.” We watched each other in amusement for a moment, then his expression turned serious and he was pulling me down for a kiss. “Naked making love,” he murmured. “Okay?”
The change in terminology did crazy things to my heart. It spoke volumes about what we’d just done and what each time we came together would be like. Whether it was hard and fast or dirty and rough or soft and slow, it would always be lovemaking.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
He stroked my beard as he stared at me. An overwhelming need to give him even more of myself became like this pervasive thing in my blood. But I knew I couldn’t tell him the words that were stuck in my throat, so I swapped them out for a question that would hopefully accomplish the same thing.
“Will you come flying with me tomorrow, Aleks?”
He didn’t even ask how or when or where. He just held my gaze and gave me the simplest of answers that still managed to blow my entire world apart… in the best way.
“Yes.”
I went looking for him in his office because that’s where the man always was, but when I found it empty, I had to ask one of the handful of private bodyguards he employed where he was.
I found him by our mother’s bench on the beach.
By it.
Not on it.
Because Luca never sat on it.
I didn’t really know why.
Maybe because sitting on it would have meant he’d have to actually be still for more than a few minutes.
Or maybe it was about the cigarette in his hand. Maybe he was worried that smoking on our mother’s bench would somehow be disrespectful to her.
Luca didn’t even try to hide the cigarette from me when I reached his side.
It said a lot about where his mind was.
“You remember what Mom did when she caught us trying that cigarette that one of the construction workers who were putting in the pool left behind?” I asked as I motioned over my shoulder toward the house.
Luca took a drag on his cigarette and inhaled deeply. He didn’t respond at first, then nodded. “She probably thought making us smoke the rest of the pack would be a hardship.”
“It was… for me,” I reminded him.
“She probably should have checked the pack first,” Luca murmured. “Two cigarettes besides the one we’d started was nothing.”
“You were ten,” I said. “She probably figured you’d get so sick you’d never do it again.”
He finally chuckled. “The look on her face when I finished mine, yours, and then asked for another…”
“I don’t think I ever saw her get that angry before.”
I was about to add the words “and after” when I realized there hadn’t been much of an after. She’d died less than two months later. Luca hadn’t smoked again until he’d been well into his twenties, because he’d been too afraid of pissing off our father. No cigarette was worth a smack to the face… or worse.
