Page 28 of Duke for the Summer

Which was why he was avoiding them all, skulking at the window of his cottage and watching Nate hug Thea goodbye, their two blonde heads glowing in the late afternoon sunlight. Thea was what his Nonna would calluna bomba, and Jacopo was sure that a lot of the local boys would dream of her long after she left the island. Just like he would dream of Nate, if he was being honest.

Nate turned, glancing up at the cottage, and Jacopo ducked out of sight, shame flooding his body. Jesus, he was pathetic, hiding like a schoolboy with a crush. He put a hand over his heart, willing it to stop pounding. Distantly, he heard the truck door slam and the engine start up. Gracie and Thea were headed down to catch the ferry, and Nate, who hadn’t been dressed for going out, must be walking back up to the castle, now that his knee was good enough to handle the stairs. Hopefully he would stay inside all night, and Jacopo could remain in the caretaker’s hut, out of his way. Their paths wouldn’t have to cross.

Jacopo let out a sigh, patting his pockets. He’d wait a bit longer, until he was sure Nate had gone into the castle, and then he would go out and smoke. Get his head right. He’d been needing a cigarette all day. And then–no, he wouldn’t think about it. Wouldn’t think about the long night, the bed that still bore the imprint of Nate’s body. He would clean the house. Washhis sheets, scrub the memory of Nate’s touch off his countertops and floors. And Nate and Thea and Gracie would spend a wonderful week together, and Jacopo, and the big, stupid, insane mistake he’d made would fade into the background without any issues.

There was a knock on the door.

For a moment, he thought about not answering it.

“Hey.” Nate’s hair was tousled and his eyes were like sea glass in the light of the sinking sun, and Jacopo felt his mouth dry up and his resolve to stay away from Nate shrivel into nothing. “Can we talk?”

“Nate, I am so sorry. I am–a thousand times sorry, I was an idiot, I–”

“Don’t.” Nate put a hand on his arm, and Jacopo leaned into it despite himself. “You don’t need to apologize. I liked it. I likeyou.” He bit his lip. Jacopo watched the indentation Nate’s teeth made in the flesh, his ears ringing. “And I know you’re not out, and usually that would be a dealbreaker, but–but we’re stuck here together for another month or so and I really don’t think I can just–ignore everything for that long, so, so–”

“Nate.”

Nate groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, I’m bad at this,” he said. “Look, do you want to be with me? Just, like, for a little bit? Like, a summer fling?”

“A summer fling?” Jacopo was just repeating words at this point; his brain had stopped producing any coherent thoughts.

“Yeah, just until I inherit the castle. No one would have to know but us. And then we can both go our separate ways, no strings attached.” Nate’s fingers tightened on Jacopo’s arm, and he looked up into his eyes, lips parted, a flush creeping down his neck. Jacopo saw him swallow, tracked the movement of his Adam’s apple.

“Nate, I–”

“It’s fine if you don’t,” Nate said quickly. “I understand.”

“No, I–” His brain was white-hot and fizzling, and he couldn’t figure out what to say. In a way it was a relief. Flings weren’t serious. Flings had a time limit. It was controlled, safe, just like he had told Nate his horror novels were. But Jacopo didn’t deserve this. And control or not, he wasn’t sure his heart could take it. He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he admitted, “I want to. But Nate, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Well, that’s not a problem.” Nate looked down, hooking a finger through one of Jacopo’s belt loops, then back up at him. “I mean, I do.”

Time seemed to skip and they were kissing, Jacopo’s fingers trembling as he struggled to peel up the hem of Nate’s t-shirt. Somehow they had ended up in the ducal chambers, though Jacopo didn’t remember getting there, and Nate’s mouth was hot and insistent and glued to his. There was a syrupy, almost bitter taste on his tongue, and Jacopo pulled back, licking his lips.

“Um. Do I taste like booze?” Nate asked, his face growing even redder than before. “Sorry. I was nervous about talking to you, so I had a couple shots of grappa.”

“Shots? The grappa is not for taking shots.”

“I know, it was terrible. Should I–”

Jacopo shook his head, pulling Nate’s lips back to his, kissing away the tang of the alcohol until nothing remained but the natural sweetness of his mouth. Needing to memorize the flavor of him, the salt of his sweat and the firm, strong lines of his body. Like a starving man at a feast, he had to make the most of this, had to file away every memory and every sensation and every little spark of feeling that he could.

They were on the bed now, and Nate’s shirt was off, Jacopo kissing and sucking at his chest. He found the mark he had left there the morning before and gentled it with his tongue,murmuring apologies into Nate’s tender skin. Nate let out a gasp that turned into a curse, and then he was pulling Jacopo back up to kiss him, long and lingering, and it was Jacopo’s turn to gasp as Nate’s confident fingers began to undo his belt buckle.

“Is this okay?” Nate’s face was flushed, his pupils dilated. There were patches of red on his neck: irritation, from Jacopo’s stubble. He had marked him. The thought inspired a kind of madness in Jacopo, and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Nate told him to lie back, and he was leaning over him, helping Jacopo out of his shirt and trousers. His lips skimmed Jacopo’s forehead, his temple. The tenderness of it made Jacopo ache. His cock was embarrassingly hard and embarrassingly obvious, and Nate let out a breathless little laugh as he freed Jacopo from his underwear.

“Nice.”

Well, at least that wouldn’t be a problem. If he lasted long enough to do anything with it.

Jacopo didn’t know what came next. He lay as if paralyzed on the bed, naked, his breath shallow and his chest tight. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this, to make it go sideways into awkwardness and shame the way those other few encounters had done. Nate had stood up and was getting undressed, and without the warmth of his body, Jacopo felt very cold and very exposed. He wished for a moment that it was dark, so that Nate wouldn’t have to see him, his skinny arms and his ribs, the hair on his chest that was beginning to go gray. He almost wished thathedidn’t have to seeNate, because the full effect of his nude body, after so many glimpses and so many hours of imagining, was like a punch to the diaphragm.

Jacopo forgot how to think for a moment. Nate was leaning over him now, an angel from a Renaissance painting. The afternoon light seemed made to caress each plane of hisbody, his muscled abdomen, his strong thighs, the exquisite curve of his ass. Jacopo whispered his name, unable to say anything else. He let a hand trail over Nate’s lower belly, his hip. He was circumcised, which Jacopo had never seen in person before, his cock sleek and pretty and flushed, just like his cheeks, like his chest.

“Tell me what you want,” Nate said.

Christ. Everything.Face burning, Jacopo tore his gaze away from Nate’s groin. Looking him in the eyes wasn’t any better. His stomach flip-flopped, and his breath caught in his throat.

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