Page 59 of Resisting You

Frey yanked back, prepared to tell him off because fuck what he was implying, but Renato stopped any words Frey wanted to say with a deep, possessive kiss. It lingered—on and on their tongues danced, Frey’s hands digging into Renato’s sides as Renato gripped him by the hair and just held him there, forcing him to take all of it.

When he broke away, Frey was panting, hard enough to cut glass and desperate enough to bet for it.

“How long do you have before Rex comes home?”

Frey blinked, foggy and unsure. “Um.”

“Come back to me,” Renato murmured. When he had Frey’s attention again, he asked, “How long?”

Frey swallowed heavily. “Four hours, give or take. They usually do something fun, then have dinner. Unless Rex isn’t feeling well, then he brings him home early.”

Renato stepped even closer, his chest now pressed to Frey’s. He dragged a hand down his left side, feeling his pocket, then his right, and he dug his fingers into Frey’s pocket, eventually pulling out his phone.

“Text him,” Renato said, his voice a low rumble. “Tell him that you’ll be out for a while and to let you know when Rex is ready for you.”

“Where will I be?” Frey asked.

Renato’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in so close their lips brushed when he said, “You’ll be with me.”

Frey was trembling as he got behind the wheel of his car, and he almost called it off out of fear that he was going to crash and end up in his own ER from nerves alone. He was terrified and horny and needy and desperate all at once. He could barely tell up from down, and it was on luck alone that he managed to keep Renato’s car in sight as they drove through a neighborhood far nicer than he’d ever be able to afford.

When they finally got to Renato’s, his place wasn’t as lavish as some of his neighbors. It was simple and quiet, a little corner lot with a large field full of wildflowers and clover beside it. The front was manicured and reminded Frey a little of an old English garden. It was nothing and everything like Renato, and he felt strange and almost uncomfortable when he realized he was being invited in.

He still didn’t understand what Renato was getting out of this or why he wanted Frey this much. Yeah, Frey was attractive, and he was apparently obedient in ways he hadn’t realized he could be, which he could tell was a turn-on for the surgeon. But he was a hot mess and had nothing to offer except trauma and a child—not that Renato was interested in more than sex.

But he seemed to want more than a hit it and quit it, and Frey was still trying to wrap his mind around that.

Maybe Renato was trying to fill the holes in his own life from the loss of his husband. Frey knew a little too keenly how that emptiness felt, and Renato had grief to go along with his own.

He glanced down at the seat, at the little flower he’d left behind because he was too afraid to bring it into his house, and he touched the wilted petals before looking up to see Renato staring at him. He was there—imposing as ever with his arms folded over his chest, and Frey’s breath sped up.

Fuck, he wanted him. And God help him because he was also starting to like him a little bit. He’d stuck around during Frey’s complete meltdown. He was kind to Rex and kind to Oz.

Who even was he?

Certainly not the dickhead Frey had been writing about in his mean quotes book. Except, he still was that man, and he needed to make sure he didn’t forget that. That kind of selective amnesia would be dangerous, and it would only end with him broken.

Squaring his shoulders, he got out and stopped a few feet away from Renato. He had no idea how nosy his neighbors were, and he didn’t want to give them any reason to gossip. But Renato was having none of it. He stepped in close, grabbed Frey’s wrist, and yanked him until they were pressed together.

“Are you afraid to be seen with me?”

Frey scoffed. “I think it’s the other way around?”

Renato’s eyes widened. “You think I’m embarrassed of you?”

Frey shrugged. “Look at you.” He gestured weakly. “Look where you live. I’m in some piece-of-shit bungalow that I can only afford because I managed to snag it before the market shit the bed and my ex didn’t fight me for it in the divorce.”

Renato’s face did something complicated that Frey couldn’t read, and then he cupped his jaw again and kissed him for God and the world to see. “Frey. Nothing about you is embarrassing,” he said when he pulled back. “You are beautiful and so clever. Now. Let’s go inside before I get us both in trouble.”

The invitation was as terrifying as the drive had been because he was setting foot into Renato’s personal space. He wasn’t really one for supernatural, spooky shit, but what if Renato’s husband was watching from beyond the grave and decided to spite him for not being worthy? He had no idea what kind of man Grady was, but he had to be something special.

And he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man Renato had been with him. Maybe he was kind, though that idea made him feel funny all over, and not in a good way.

“Are you a vampire? Do you need an invitation?”

Frey snorted. “You like vampire movies?”

“I was obsessed with them when I was younger. I was in university when I read those vampire novels. You know the ones that were really gay without being…” He waved his hand the way he did when he was searching for a word. “Blunt about it?”

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