Page 24 of Duke for the Summer

“What, so I can see the ghost?” Nate tried to keep his voice light.

“No, so you can see the ruins. It’s a special place. Not many people go there.”

“I’d like that,” Nate said, heart twisting in his chest. “Thank you.”

*

He woke in the gray light of pre-dawn, his face pressed up against Jacopo’s neck and his hand somehow underneath his shirt, glued to his hot skin. The laptop had made its way onto the floor and was still muttering faintly about mysterious apparitions, and any distance between Nate and Jacopo’s bodies had evaporated in the night.

Jacopo’s cock was hard and unmistakable between them. Before his sleepy brain could put on the brakes, Nate was snuggling up to it, his hips wriggling and his hand creeping further up Jacopo’s chest.

Jacopo let out a soft little noise and slid his fingers around Nate’s wrist.

Shit.“I–” Nate fumbled for words, but his head felt full of feathers and heat, his nerves fizzling like sparklers. He didn’t dare pull back to look at Jacopo’s face, to see if he was awake.

“Nate,” Jacopo murmured. His stubble scraped Nate’s cheekbone, sending a cascade of desire through his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said helplessly, mouth dry.

“Nate,” Jacopo repeated. He was nuzzling Nate’s hair, his breath hot, and then his lips were skimming Nate’s forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, everywhere but his mouth. “I can’t.” Their noses grazed, and Jacopo pressed his forehead to Nate’s, eyes squeezed shut as if in pain, his thumb tracing over Nate’s lips.

“It’s okay,” Nate heard himself say. Stupid. Desperate to please, even now. His free hand was knotted in the blankets, squeezing so hard that it hurt.

Jacopo rolled over, pinning him to the mattress, and Nate gasped. “I can’t do this,” Jacopo said, lips hovering millimeters above his.

Nate licked his lips. He had never been this hard, and his pulse was slamming in his head. “It’s fine,” he whispered. “I get it, really–”

And before he could finish the sentence, before he could even breathe, or think, Jacopo’s mouth was on his, and their tongues were melting against each other and everything was friction and fury and fingers undoing belt buckles and Jacopo’s teeth against his bare chest and–

The blare of the alarm on his phone, going off. The morning ferry would be leaving soon, and they needed to go pick up Thea.

9.

“Seriously, Nate? What in the actual fuck did you do to yourself?” Thea stared at the compression sleeve around his knee in disgust, hands on her hips. Instagram-ready even after hours of travel, she was in yoga pants and a crop top, her blond hair piled on top of her head. Nate had already caught several men in the airport staring at her adoringly.

What in the actual fuck, indeed.His body was thrumming like a plucked guitar string, pinpoints of heat seared into his lower back and thighs where Jacopo’s fingers had dug into his skin, and there was an actualbite markon one of his pecs, burning underneath his t-shirt like a brand. Nate was surprised he even remembered how to breathe, let alone stand up and talk.

“Fell on it. I was training for a half-marathon,” he said dully.

“Jesus, why? Like, don’t.”

Nate sighed. “Love you, too, sis.”

Thea rolled her eyes and swept him into a hug. “Oh my God. Get over here with your stupid broken knee, you dork,” she said, squeezing him. “Ooh, you smell nice. What is that? Lemon?”

Nate stammered something, resolutely not looking at Jacopo, who was busying himself with Thea’s luggage. They hadn’t made eye contact for at least an hour. Gracie had shown up to drive them to the ferry, and Nate had made a pitiful attempt at conversation with her–Hi Gracie, my hand was just on your brother’s dick. How’s your morning been?–while Jacopo had smoked about a thousand cigarettes outside on thedeck.

“You okay?” Thea asked. She pulled back to scrutinize his face. “You’re acting a little weird.”

Nate forced a smile. “Just tired.” His palm still itched with the knowledge of Jacopo’s skin, and his body was screaming with frustration that he hadn’t gotten any further.

What would have happened if he had gotten further? Would it have been disastrous? Incandescent? Nate snuck a glance at Jacopo, studying his profile. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he hadn’t had time to shave, his cheeks dark with stubble.

“Tired?” she scoffed. “Well, chug some espresso, my dude. I’m only here for a week and I came to party.” Thea looked over his shoulder at Gracie and Jacopo. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Thea had a way about her that made all awkwardness evaporate, steamrolled by her enthusiasm, and for once, Nate was happy to sit back and let it happen. By the time they’d gotten back to the island, she and Gracie had bonded about how dumb Nate was for hurting his knee, and how stupid big brothers were in general. Then it was time for lunch with the family, where Thea gave Beatrice a jar of Barb’s homemade marionberry jam and charmed everyone with broken scraps of Italian and told a story about her bag getting searched on the way and her bras and thongs being strewn all over the airport in front of some poor, officious security guard in Rome (Nate wasn’t sure how much of it Gracie actually translated). Even Papà Brunetti cracked a half-smile, and after a glasses of Willamette Valley cabernet–another gift from Nate’s parents–Beatrice was calling Theaprincipessa Barbieand Mirabella was braiding her hair, and in the whirlwind of group photos and hugs, it was easy to shove that morning’s events to the back of his mind.

Until they were back at the castle, showing Thea around,and Nate, still a little clumsy on the stairs, stumbled. Jacopo was there before Nate could even blink, his hand solid against his lower back, and Nate looked up at him in a daze, pleasure exploding across his brain.

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