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“Are you certain?”
“Are you a serial killer who’s going to sex me up and then bury me in the yard?” Renzo asked.
Emil huffed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head as he tipped his head down. “No. I’m just…lonely.”
JesusChrist, this guy. Renzo carefully lifted his hands and placed them against Emil’s waist, squeezing gently. Emil’s eyes fluttered closed in the way people did when they had been starved of touch for far too long.
God, Renzo wanted to spoil this man.
He pushed up onto his toes, moving one hand to Emil’s jaw, cupping his cheek. “I know we didn’t really have the queer talk, but have you been with a guy before?”
Emil nodded. “Mm. I have. It’s been quite some time, but it’s like riding a bike, right?”
“I hope riding my dick is going to be a lot more fun than riding a bike,” Renzo said.
Emil blinked, then laughed, but the sound was cut short as he ducked his head and took Renzo in a kiss. It was awkward and sloppy with mismatched rhythm and a little too much desperation, but Renzo didn’t care. Emil tasted like mint and something a little sweet, and his chin trembled when their lips touched, which made Renzo never want to stop.
He gentled Emil’s ferocity, petting his hands over the man’s larger chest, then curling fingers into his hair to guide him in an easier rhythm. Emil was a fast learner, and it didn’t take him long to calm down. His trembling breaths turned into soft sighs, and Renzo knew he was going to lose himself if he wasn’t careful.
“Bed,” Renzo whispered. “Head up the stairs, second door on the right. I’m going to grab my stuff from the bathroom down here.”
“Stuff,” Emil echoed, nipping at his lips like he didn’t want to stop kissing.
Renzo pulled Emil’s head to the side by his hair and sank his teeth lightly into the spot where his pulse was hammering against his skin. “Lube. Condoms. Maybe a toy if you’re lucky.”
Emil groaned, the sound delicious and low, rumbling between them. Renzo kissed him one last time before pushing Emil back, and they both took a minute to collect themselves. Renzo’s dick was rock-hard and pressing against the zipper of his jeans, and he could see Emil’s thick cock tenting his pants.
Yes, tonight was going to be a very, very good night.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Renzo: Have a sort of stranger over tonight for a one-night stand thing. Tell them to look into the son of my dead neighbor if my body turns up in the river.
He hit Send,firing the text off to Oliver because the only other person he might have texted was his sister, and Camilla would eviscerate him if she knew he’d brought a stranger into the house. Guilt would have eaten at him if he wasn’t so goddamn horny for the tall Norse god undressing in his bedroom, and it was easy to ignore the few tendrils of shame that escaped the little prison he tried to shove them into.
He had his toiletries bag in the downstairs bathroom, and it took him less than thirty seconds to have condoms, lube, and a small bullet vibe in his hand. He forced himself to take a beat, then a piss, before he finally headed for the stairs. He listened carefully, but Emil wasn’t making a sound.
Shit, he really hoped he wasn’t a crazed killer.
Hitting the landing, Renzo found his feet dragging, so he forced himself forward, then came to a stop in his open doorway. Emil had clearly found the ancient floor lamp that his mother had bought him from a random trip to Walmart back in the late nineties, and he’d turned the dial. The room was flooded with a soft yellow glow, and it made Emil look almost ethereal.
He hadn’t undressed completely, but he’d lost the suit jacket, and his white button-up was hanging open, his pants unbuckled and the fly down. Renzo’s gaze traced a trail of thick, very blond hair from his chest to his groin, and his dick got even harder.
“I’m hoping that means you like what you see,” Emil said, far too shy and uncertain for a man who looked that good.
Renzo nodded slowly, closing the door behind him with deliberate purpose. He watched Emil watch him, mesmerized by the starved look in Emil’s brightly colored eyes. He felt like he could get drunk on the way Emil tracked him as his hand lifted to his shirt and gently brushed the back against the hem.
“And you like all of this?” Renzo shot back, laying his palm on his own stomach.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Emil said, his words trembling as Renzo exposed his chest. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch, but he was still too far away, so Renzo began to close the distance between them as he finally tossed everything in his hands onto the bed, then took off his shirt and threw it into the corner of the room. When his torso was exposed, he went for the button on his jeans.
He dragged the zipper down and spread the fly open in a wide v just as Emil was close enough to lay a hand on him, and he watched as the other man traced a touch around the line in his hips.
“Beautiful,” Emil whispered.
Renzo flushed from head to toe. He was not used to being looked at like this, and he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called him beautiful without the word dripping in sarcasm. His ex liked to use it as a weapon—anytime Renzo thought he looked good, John would make sure the feeling was short-lived.
But Emil’s breathing was hitched, and he was touching him with an actual reverence that was just short of terrifying. Renzo carefully cupped his jaw and tipped his gaze up. “I really like your body.” His other hand traced over his chest hair—something Renzo had never been able to grow. It came in sparse and patchy, so he always waxed it.
