Page 56 of The Chameleon

“So, when did you have time to set this whole thing up?” Matteo asked, gracefully placing the meat in his mouth and gently chewing it like a civilized human being.

Each of the tables was shared seating, but Matteo and Ares managed to snag a table of their own.

Turning his horrified face back to Matteo, Ares picked up his wine and took a sip.

“I called my Spanish guy and asked him to get us these tickets and order us some professionally tailored suits.”

“And you just happened to remember my exact measurements?”

Ares gave Matteo a naughty grin. “I remember every detail of your body, sexy, including that tiny little birthmark just under your left testicle.”

The woman sitting next to Ares coughed, no doubt choking on the oyster she had just placed in her mouth. Her cheeks flushed red as she tried to act like she hadn’t just overheard details of Matteo’s nether regions.

The lights around them dimmed as the dancers stepped out on stage. Matteo turned his chair so that he could get a better view of the dancers as they showed their guests what true flamenco dancing was.

The show was amazing. The colors, the outfits, the seductive moves between each of the dancers. How anyone could move their bodies in such a way was beyond Matteo’s grasp.

Under the table, Matteo felt Ares slowly rub his leg against his. The gesture was sweet and reminded Matteo of the times they shared years ago before everything went to shit in a dumpster fire of anger and raw emotions.

Determined, Matteo picked up his wine and took another sip, trying his best to ignore the raging hard-on straining against his zipper.

Fuck, he wanted Ares to throw him down across the table and pound him like a tough piece of meat.

The sound of the castanets clicking in the woman’s hands as she danced drew Matteo’s attention. She spun around, dress twirling as she moved. Next to her, a man in tight black pants and a crisp white shirt partially opened in the front, danced around her, keeping in sync with the music that played. Flamenco dancing was all about passion and seduction and movement and losing yourself in the magic of the night.

Locking eyes with Ares, he felt himself get pulled into his orbit. Matteo’s heart was betraying him once again, deciding to join forces with his cock and ignore the arrangement they had all agreed to fifteen years ago. The only one that still remained loyal to their arrangement was his brain. He knew the true danger of what was happening and the very real possibility that this would all end with him being crushed and destroyed.

Forcing himself to look away, Matteo took another sip of his wine and tried to lose himself in the magic of the flamenco.

18

MATTEO

The fire crackled softly as another piece of wood succumbed to its fate. There was something about watching a fire burn that always calmed Matteo’s mind and relaxed his soul.

Perhaps it was the heat—feeling like a warm cocoon or a mother’s safe embrace—or maybe it was the rhythmic motion, the dancing of the flames as they moved across the wood to consume it.

Whatever it was, watching the fire always had a way of calming him. All of life’s problems seemed to fall away, giving him perspective and allowing him to let go of the things he couldn’t control.

Like the feelings he was having about the man sitting next to him.

Matteo had come to the cabin to be alone with his thoughts. To work through the jumble of emotions and questions he was having—some about the death of his parents, some about the direction of his life, and some about the growing feeling of loneliness he was beginning to experience as everyone around him seemed to be catching the love bug.

Now, having Ares here, all thoughts of his parents’ deaths were gone, and all that remained was the confusing swirl of emotions that all led back to one common denominator.

“Another marshmallow?” Ares asked, pulling Matteo from his thoughts.

He nodded.

Ares took the metal skewer from Matteo’s hand and jammed two large marshmallows onto the end.

“When was the last time you went camping?” Ares asked, placing the bag of marshmallows down next to him on the floor.

Leaning back on his arm, Matteo shifted and gazed up at the man who had brought both excitement and pain into his life.

Flames dancing in Ares’s eyes, he sat with his back pressed up against the rustic couch, waiting for Matteo to reply.

“The last time would have been with you. That long weekend camping trip we took over in Holland.”

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