Page 60 of Resisting You

Frey grinned. “I know the ones. I was in elementary school when the movie came out. My neighbor was this super-cool high school kid, and he took me to see it. I had a massive crush on Brad Pitt.”

Renato laughed softly as he closed the door behind Frey, then picked up his hand and kissed his knuckles. Frey went immediately still and silent. He’d seen Lane do that to Bowen—and vice versa. They were always disgustingly romantic and sweet, and Frey always thought he’d hate that.

Jace’s idea of foreplay was to grab his ass and squeeze it a few times before asking if he could top. He always told himself he wasn’t missing out—that he never wanted someone to be soft with him.

And now, Renato was giving him these bits and pieces, and he was getting addicted.

The crash was going to ruin him. But the fear of what would come after wasn’t enough to have him pulling away.

“Do you want a tour?” Renato asked after a beat.

Frey shrugged. “I’d love one, but we might be on a tight schedule.”

“Hmm.” Renato yanked him close again and rucked up his shirt, dragging fingers over his abs, making them twitch. “Maybe after. If we have time. I have a pool that I bet Rex would love.”

Frey was absolutely not going to take that as an invitation or implication that there would be more than just this—than the sex and the moments of running into each other in public. He couldn’t.

He wasn’t going to play house only to have it ripped away from him when Renato got bored.

Instead, he grinned a little slyly and lifted his shirt. Renato’s eyes followed the movement, his breath catching in his chest, and then he tightened his grip on Frey’s hand and pulled him until he was stumbling past the threshold of the master bedroom.

It was dimly lit and very much like Renato. The furniture was dark wood and heavy, the mattress thin, the pillows flat. There were bits and pieces of his personality strewn about, but Frey didn’t have the chance to explore. Renato was on him the moment the door was shut.

He threw Frey backward, catching the back of Frey’s head with the palm of his hand, and then Renato’s mouth was devouring his. Breath leeched from his lungs as the life was kissed out of him, and then a firm knee spread his legs apart, and a taut thigh pressed high against his balls.

“Fuck,” Frey said, his voice thready and weak.

Renato pulled back, eyes wide and wild. He looked like he was unsure of himself, which wasn’t like him at all. He dragged his gaze from Frey’s feet to his hairline, then looked into his eyes. “Tell me you want this. That you want me.”

“I want you,” Frey said. Not a word of that was a lie. He wanted Renato with every fiber of his being. His heart ached because he wanted this to be real. He wanted Renato to be his. In spite of everything, this felt like a happily ever after, but it was nothing more than a tease. “Touch me,” he begged.

He needed a distraction.

Renato fumbled with Frey’s button and zipper but managed to get them undone, and he shoved his hand past the waistband of his boxers and took him in a too-firm grip. Frey’s eyes rolled upward, eyelids then slamming shut as pain-pleasure rocketed through him. His lips parted on an animal noise, and he fucked his hips forward against Renato’s hand.

“Close,” he gasped when he realized he was about to come.

Renato gentled his grip, but he didn’t let go. “I think I want to hear you beg for it.”

Frey shuddered. If that’s what Renato wanted, he’d get his wish, and it wouldn’t take long. His muscles were already aching from the tension he was holding, and the anticipation of not being able to come until he humiliated himself with begging was going to throw him over the edge. He licked his lips and pulled back slightly.

Renato stroked him from root to tip, his eyes on Frey’s. “Am I being too much?”

Was he? Frey honestly couldn’t tell. He was too afraid to check in with himself because he was terrified of what he’d find sitting in the space behind his heart. But he owed it to Renato. He’d been kind, and he didn’t deserve to be someone Frey used to torment himself.

Renato was trying—he had been trying all this time.

“You’re not too much.”

“The look on your face,” Renato started.

Frey shook his head, then surged forward to silence him with a kiss. Renato lost himself to it for a moment, but it didn’t take long before he broke away and knocked their foreheads together with a small sigh.

“You’ve been hurt enough.”

“I like the way you hurt me,” Frey told him. Now, that was honesty. He did like it because it wasn’t cruel. It was just raw. It forced Frey to expose parts of himself he’d been hiding for a long, long time. “I like when I’m good for you.”

Renato was silent for so long Frey almost thought he’d ruined the moment. Then, a hand snaked up his front, and fingers closed around his neck. It wasn’t tight enough to take his breath, but the warning was there. The power was there.

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