Chapter 13 #3
“I get it,” Oliver said, and he actually sounded like he did. “You think I’d give you my mom’s scone recipe? Even if you begged really nicely?”
Luca took a drink of wine. This pinot noir was good, probably too good to be drinking out of plastic cups, but he decided he didn’t care. “What if I seduced you with sexual favors?”
Oliver grinned, a wild look settling into his eyes that Luca didn’t think he’d ever tire of seeing. “I’d love to see you try.”
“Seems worth exploring,” Luca said nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fact that his cock was already half-hard, just from the idea.
Or the other idea he kept having, about Oliver pinning him to the bed and just making him take it.
Not listening at all to any of his begging and pleading, just pinning him down, tying him down, and making him give up all the control it felt like he’d spent his whole life hoarding close.
He swallowed hard. These were crazy thoughts. Thoughts he had during too many late nights, late nights alone. Though he’d certainly never had them before, not with anyone else.
Because you’ve never trusted anyone to take care of you, not like you do Oliver.
“Maybe later,” Oliver replied, equally nonchalant. “Or anything else you happen to come up with.”
Luca’s fingers tightened on his cup. What would it be like, to give up that part of himself? To give it up to Oliver?
Maybe he wouldn’t even like it.
Or maybe he’d love it a little too much, and it would make everything harder.
“I wasn’t sure if you had other things to do today, besides me,” Luca teased.
“No.” Oliver leaned closer. “Just you.” Kissed him then, and he tasted like the wine and artichokes and everything in the world that was suddenly irresistible and delicious.
“God,” Luca groaned when they finally broke apart. “Why did we climb up this freaking hill again?”
“Because you wanted to see the ocean. The other ocean.” Oliver stood then and walked over to the edge of the cliff, dusting the crumbs off his lap.
“It’s beautiful.”
Oliver didn’t turn around, but Luca had a feeling he knew he wasn’t looking at the ocean at all, but at his own back.
Luca wrapped his arms around Oliver’s middle and tugged him against him. Oliver leaned in, the warmth of him heating him right through.
By the time they made it back to Oliver’s house, Luca’s blood had heated from a simmer to a boil.
Part of it was just being with Oliver. Watching him smile, hearing him laugh, touching him as much as he could get away with, even as they hiked down the hill, the afternoon sun warm on their skin.
The other part of it was the thoughts that kept crowding in.
The thoughts about Oliver sitting on top of him and smiling just like that, the corner of his mouth quirking up, as he made him take it.
Take whatever he deigned to give him.
He’d never wanted anything like it before.
You never got close enough to anyone to trust them before.
And that was true. He’d kept every hookup, every date, at an arm’s length. But not Oliver. He’d just taken Luca’s arm and slunk under it, like he simply belonged closer.
They turned the corner, and Oliver’s little house came into view, Luca swallowing hard.
If you don’t ask for it now, you’ll never know. You’ll never get what you really want.
What you really need.
“You’ve been quiet,” Oliver said, unlocking the door with keys he’d pulled from his pocket.
“Just thinking.” Luca shrugged, trying to make light of it, but Oliver knew him better by now.
He shot him a look as he let them into the house.
They slipped off their dirty sneakers in the little tiled foyer, and Oliver gestured. “Let’s get something to drink,” he said.
Like they hadn’t come back here just to fuck.
Still, he let Oliver wander into the kitchen, and grab two bottles of water, taking one from his hands.
But instead of opening it, he set it down on the table. Had trouble meeting Oliver’s eyes but he did it anyway. How did someone even ask for something like this? What if Oliver didn’t want to do it? Would it ruin everything?
It was why he hadn’t said anything about it before.
He was too afraid of messing up the short time they had together.
“You gonna tell me what you’re agonizing about?” Oliver asked lightly, tilting his face up toward Luca’s.
It would be so easy to just kiss him and take him to bed. He knew it wouldn’t be bad. In fact, he knew just how good it would be between them.
But he wanted more. Was he wrong to want more?
You’d only be wrong if you weren’t honest with Oliver about it.
“Promise me you won’t judge,” Luca said. Even though he already knew Oliver wouldn’t. This was Oliver.
Oliver reached up and tucked a hand around his neck, dipping under the collar of his T-shirt. He shivered, not just because of the cold brush of Luca’s fingers, but his touch, right where he was vulnerable.
“Like I ever would,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes a bit. But his expression was so fond. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”
“Remember the first time we met?”
“How you almost had me imprisoned for manslaughter?” Oliver chuckled. “How could I forget?”
“I was more thinking about how you lectured me afterward. About crosswalks.”
“That’s what’s on your mind?” Oliver was straight out laughing now.
“Sort of.” Luca squirmed internally. Could he admit it? Could he tell Oliver how much he wanted it? “But you looked at me, then, and again, when I almost ran you over at the Inn, and I wanted you to look at me like that again . . .in bed.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “You just want me to look at you?”
“I want you to pin me down. Uh.” Luca told himself not to lose his nerve now. “Put me in my place. Make me take it. Whatever you want to give me.”
Oliver’s eyebrow hit his hairline now. He didn’t say anything.
“If you want to. If it doesn’t—” Luca nearly lost it then. Nearly turned away. The only thing that kept him rooted in place was the hot look in Oliver’s eyes. Like he was interested. Intrigued. “If it isn’t something you want too, that’s fine, I just—”
“I want it,” Oliver interrupted. “What, do you want me to tie you up?”
Luca nearly choked. “I . . .uh . . .I don’t think I made it that far. But . . .maybe we could start with something a little . . .less terrifying?”
Oliver smiled. “We can. Come on,” he said and was sliding that hand down, tangling his fingers with Luca’s, tugging him in the direction of the bedroom.
“Do you think you can do what I say and not stop?” Oliver asked archly as he turned in the middle of the room, suddenly pressing their bodies together. He glanced over at the bed. Specifically at the slats of the wooden headboard. “Like you could hold on to those and not let go?”
He could do that.
And not only that, but suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to do just that.
Luca nodded, his throat suddenly too dry to speak.
Just talking about the idea of it, the hazy amorphous thought of it, had made his dick hard as a rock. And then seeing the headboard? Hearing what Oliver was asking him to do?
He’d never been harder in his whole life.
“You gotta use your words,” Oliver murmured to him. “That’s important, okay?”
“Yes,” Luca managed to get out. “Yes, I can do that.”
“You need to remember one more thing for me,” Oliver said, and he was pulling his T-shirt off.
Luca almost nodded but then he remembered what Oliver had just said. He needed to use his words.
“Yes,” he said. “Anything.”
“If it’s too much, you can say stop, and I’ll stop. No matter what, I’ll stop.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what,” Oliver promised. “And if you’re still good, at any point, you can tell me to keep going and I’ll keep going.”
Oliver’s hands slid down his chest and were hovering right above the button his jeans. Surely he could feel how much Luca wanted him. How much he wanted this.
“Okay,” Luca said. Considered if it was okay to ask for what he wanted, but then he realized, he already had. He’d asked for Oliver to give him whatever he needed—not whatever he wanted—and there was a kind of empty bliss in the idea he was completely in Oliver’s hands.
But when Oliver leaned in and kissed him, he could kiss back.
Lost himself in the taste and feel of his mouth against his own, the nimble push-and-pull of his tongue. Didn’t even realize Oliver had stripped him down until he felt his palm press against his throbbing dick.
He groaned.
“Get on the bed,” Oliver said. His voice was firmer, more certain, but it was sweet too.
The best of both worlds.
Luca didn’t hesitate. He scrambled up on the bed, shedding everything around his ankles as he went. Settling in, he reached for the slats of the headboard and felt the satisfactory bite of the edges of them into his palms as he gripped them.
“Good,” Oliver said. “Such a good boy.”
Luca swallowed hard. He didn’t want to like it. But he fucking loved it.
“You still good?” Oliver asked, reached for the hem of his own shirt.
“Yes.”
Oliver nodded as he pulled off the rest of his clothes. Then he didn’t do anything. Didn’t move toward the bed. Didn’t touch Luca. Just stood there, naked, and let Luca look.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Luca said, his voice a deep, dark rasp he barely recognized as his own.
“Yeah, you like what you see?” Oliver reached down and gripped his cock, giving himself a squeeze, bliss flooding his expression, and Luca swore under his breath. He wanted to be those hands. He wanted to be the one touching Oliver. Making him feel good.
But he wasn’t going to. Not this time. He tightened his grip on the wooden slats and tried to stop gasping so desperately.
“I love it,” he breathed out and meant every single word.
He wanted to see it forever. And not just Oliver’s slim body, the perfect peach of his ass, the pale pink of his lips and his nipples, but the intent gaze of his hazel eyes. The way he looked through Luca and saw down to the real him.
How many people had ever done that with him? They’d only ever seen the surface. The polished, arrogant, urbane exterior. Even his own family focused on that.
But not Oliver.