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Emil pulled back and touched the side of Renzo’s jaw with the tips of his fingers, drawing their gazes together. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m not ready for…for more. For anything serious. But I want you,” Renzo told him.
That hurt a little. Emil couldn’t help it, but he was also beyond grateful for Renzo setting those boundaries because he wasn’t ready either. But there was no way he could deny himself Renzo’s body if he was offering it so freely.
He leaned in, answering him with a searing hot, sloppy kiss that had Renzo groaning and bucking hard against him. “Upstairs,” Renzo repeated.
Their fingers linked together, and Emil let Renzo take the lead, dragging him up the stairs and into the familiar bedroom he didn’t think he’d get to see again.
It was the same as he remembered—warm, small, slightly messy. It smelled like Renzo fresh from a shower, and Emil found himself wanting to dive headfirst into the blankets and burrow. Instead, he waited for the door to close, and then he backed Renzo against it, tilted his head up, and kissed him.
“Mm, sunshine. You taste like chocolate,” Renzo murmured against Emil’s lips.
He grinned and kissed him deeper, then moved to the hinge of his jaw and bit down on his earlobe before sinking teeth into the crook of his neck. Renzo shuddered and rocked forward, his thick erection tenting the front of his jeans.
Emil reached between them and cupped him, then dragged the heel of his hand over the outline of his lover’s erection. “Like that?” he asked when Renzo moaned.
Renzo’s eyes were closed, and he nodded almost frantically. “You make me feel…”
Emil waited for him to finish his sentence, but he didn’t. Emil kissed him gently on the lips, trying to coax out the rest of his words. “Tell me,” he whispered.
Renzo shook his head, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “It makes me sound…I don’t know. Pathetic, I guess.”
Emil cupped his cheek, but he couldn’t get Renzo’s eyes to open. “There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me think you’re pathetic. The only thing you’ve ever been—besides so hot I want to die,” he said, just to make Renzo smile…and it worked, “is brave. And strong. And beautiful.”
“You don’t know me well enough to really think that,” Renzo said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Emil stroked his thumb along the barely there wrinkles next to Renzo’s left eye and waited until his lashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened. “Hello.”
Renzo laughed softly. “Hello.”
Licking his lips, Emil studied Renzo’s face for a long moment, then shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t know you very well, but I know genuine people. And yes, my bar for honesty and kindness has been set pretty low,” he added, making Renzo laugh again, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell the difference.”
Renzo started to shake his head, but he stopped when Emil increased the pressure on his cheek. “I’m an okay person. People tend to paint me as some saint because I actually enjoy being with my brother, or because I’m a teacher, or…I don’t know. I’m not some sexist shit-bag who argues that women don’t belong in STEM or something. But I feel like those things are the bare minimum. And for the record, Idon’talways enjoy being with my brother.”
Emil laughed. “That’s because he’s your brother. But I don’t think you’re a saint for loving him. Or for treating him like a person.”
Renzo’s face did something complicated—an expression Emil didn’t recognize. It looked almost sad but also a little grateful.
“Those aren’t the reasons I think those things about you,” Emil said.
Renzo closed his eyes in a slow blink. “Then what is it? And yes, I am fishing. I’m feeling really insecure. I didn’t expect to like you this much.”
Emil’s heart felt like it was beating double time, and he took a breath to try and calm his body down. Honesty was getting easier, but it would never be his first nature. Not when it left him showing his soft underbelly. “It’s the fact that you let me in. I know I don’t have all the details about you and your ex. But the fact that I’m here and you’re saying these things to me after what he put you through…” Emil trailed off with a shrug.
Renzo released a trembling sigh. “That’s what terrifies me. You’re doing all the things I wanted someone to do. You’re the person I’d been dreaming of for years, but I can’t…I won’t survive getting hurt again. Not like that.”
“You would,” Emil told him. “But if this is too much for you?—”
“It is. But I don’t want you to go,” Renzo said. He grabbed Emil by the waist and dug his fingers in. The sensation was a strange cross between painful and ticklish, but he didn’t move. “Please don’t go.”
“I won’t.” He sealed his promise with a kiss, then laid his mouth to the side of Renzo’s neck and asked, “What do you want from me right now?”
“Show me how good it can be between us. Not just filthy. I want to see the rest. I want you to—” He cut himself off, but Emil heard the words that were unspoken.
I want you to make love to me.
A tiny piece of Emil wanted to run, but if he did, he’d never forgive himself.
