Chapter 5

Connor wasup with the sun, which was absolutely not his usual MO. He was habitually late to work, no matter how much he wanted to get there on time. After traveling, his sleep schedule was screwed. He hated to think what it would be like when he returned home but he could deal with that when it came. He intended to fully enjoy Italy and live in the moment.

Upon arriving downstairs, he scented coffee and groaned with joy. Fully expecting Kellan, he found Ana Maria puttering around the kitchen. A small tray of pastry sat on the island, as well as a bowl of cut fruit. She caught him sneaking a pastry and smiled. "Buongiorno."

"Buongiorno,"he repeated before taking a bite. He groaned again, the pastry melting over his tongue.

Ana Maria chuckled.

"Caffé," she said, pointing to an ancient looking set of brass pots stacked one upon the other. "Cena," she paused shaking her head. "Supper is in fridge."

"Grazie," he murmured.

"Prego," she replied, drying her hands in her apron. She waved. "I come back tomorrow. Ciao."

"Ciao."

Connor poured himself a cup and snagged a bit of fruit to go along with the rest of his pastry. Before he was done, Kellan appeared.

"You've been busy."

"Not me," Connor replied. "Ana Maria is a saint."

"Ahh, I didn't know she would be coming again," Kellan said, eyeing the display.

Connor took his plate and cup to the table they'd used the night before. "She left dinner in the fridge, too."

"A saint, indeed." Kellan bypassed the island and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a seat at the table across from Connor, his gaze drifting outside.

"Not hungry?"

"I rarely eat breakfast." He seemed distant, unlike the night before. Had the kiss crossed a line?

"Most important meal of the day," Connor murmured above the rim of his cup.

Kellan sighed. "You're as bad as Abby, though I think you're to blame for that."

"As bad as Abby? I take offense to that, mostly because your daughter is a damned delight."

Kellan half-smiled over the rim of his cup. He placed it back on the table and sized Connor up. "Are you just saying that because you're spending the week in my family's Italian villa?"

"I think we both know I'm not. Abby is one of my best students. She's competent. She's kind. Shows compassion." Connor smiled. "I think I know where she gets all that from."

Satisfaction spread over Kellan's face—yet there still seemed to be a sense of distance.

He bit off another bit of pastry, inwardly moaning at how good it was. "You're really going to let Ana Maria's hard work go to waste?"

Connor grinned, watching Kellan reluctantly get up and fill his own small plate. "I did a little research for the museum. I don't know if you drove in or not—or if we'd need to call for a taxi? How's your Italian?"

Kellan returned to the table. "I know a bit of Spanish, which I know isn't all that helpful—but a lot of the words are similar. Between that and Google translate, I might be able to make my way through."

"That should do it." Connor took another bite of his pastry, noting Kellan had yet to touch his food. "Eat."

"I'm not very hungry," Kellan murmured, his expression tired.

"Did you not sleep well?"

Kellan shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose."

"Something wrong?"

"No."Kellan spat. He grabbed the pastry and tore off a piece, dipping it in his coffee before popping it into his mouth.

"Was it something I said?" Or something I did?

Kellan met his gaze, face blank. "I said nothing was wrong."

"Okay, fine," Connor lifted his palms in surrender. "Be a grump if you want."

"I'm not a grump,"Kellan snapped.

"Okay then," Connor whispered. Maybe he's not a morning person. No, I've seen him many a morning dropping Abby off, and he's never appeared cranky. It's me… it has to be me.

Kellan drained his coffee and rose to pour another. They finished their breakfast in an uncomfortable silence until Kellan reached for his phone and dialed a number.

"Buongiorno,"Kellan said. "Un taxi?"

After prattling off the address for the villa, Kellan eyed him. "I think they said twenty minutes. Trenta is twenty, right?"

"Going by Starbucks cup sizes," Connor said. "It's thirty."

"Right!" Kellan said, chuckling. "Venti is twenty."

The chill to the air warmed with that chuckle.

"If you need to collect anything before we leave, I suggest you do it now."

"I'm good to go," Connor said.

Kellan met his stare. He moved a bit closer, looking as if he wanted to say something.

Connor stiffened again, sensing whatever Kellan wanted to share required his full attention. A pregnant pause hung between them. A glimmer sparkled in Kellan's eyes…

And then it was gone as fast as Connor witnessed it. Kellan turned away, leaving Connor to wonder what had been left unsaid.

"I suppose I should put this stuff away before we go."

Connor helped store the fruit and the pastries, moving silently at Kellan's side. He didn't want to cause another bad mood by speaking out of turn, so he kept quiet. Not long after they'd cleaned up, a buzzer sounded.

"What's that?"

"The gate," Kellan answered. "Time to go."

* * *

Kellan's knee brushed against Connor's as they traveled in the backseat of the tiny Fiat taxi. His companion took up more than half the space, forcing their bodies in close contact. While he attempted to keep his distance, every scrape of the leg, lean into a turn, and bump from a rough bit of road slammed him against the man. He wanted to be free to touch Connor, without the voices in his head telling him he shouldn't.

"I don't bite," Connor said midway there.

"What?"

"You don't have to twist yourself into knots in an attempt to avoid touching me."

"I wasn't…"

The look in Connor's eyes said he knew that was a lie.

Kellan sighed, relaxed his body, and allowed his thigh to touch Connor's. From that tiny connection, sparks tingled. He turned to look out the window at the passing scenery to prevent Connor from seeing the smile growing on his lips.

They arrived at the ferry dock in the nick of time. Kellan purchased two tickets, and they raced to board, the gate closing behind them. He and Connor leaned against the deck railing, surveying the landscape. The sun was warm as it cast its glow, the sky a brilliant blue. He inhaled, the clean, fresh air filling his lungs.

Dozens of small villages and towns dotted Lake Como, some ancient-looking. Kellan's gaze didn't know where to land as there was so much to see. Yet even with all to see, his eyes drifted to Connor over and over again. Hair blowing in the wind, the sun shining down on them, his companion was more handsome than ever before.

Perhaps that due to the kiss from the night before talking, but somehow, he saw the man differently after it. He hadn't known how to act when he'd come downstairs, a mixture of awkwardness and shame had come out wrong.

A grump. He called me a grump.

"I'm sorry about this morning," he said, his voice low.

Connor leaned a little closer, smiling. "For?"

"Being a grump this morning."

"But you weren't being grumpy. Remember?"

Connor's smile took his breath away. Kellan broke the stare he'd been arrested in and scanned the villages again, face warming. A few seconds later, he noticed Connor's hand sliding on the railing. It stopped next to his, their pinkies touching.

Growing up in the public eye, Kellan had been well-schooled on how to compose himself when there were lots of eyes around. So well-schooled that his first instinct was to pull his hand away, fear of being caught too close to another man. He'd broken those rules a few times… and each time it had come back to bite him in the ass, getting progressively worse with each transgression.

He stared at their hands, forcing himself to keep still and enjoy the moment. It's barely touching. Let it go. When he lifted his gaze, he saw Connor staring at him with a hint of a smile. He couldn't help but return it.

They arrived in Varenna in no time, thanks to the ferry, and were deposited not far from the Villa Monastero. As they approached, a riot of lush greenery and bright flowers drew them closer. Kellan shaded his eyes as he surveyed the gardens stretched out before them. They resembled the ones at Emma's villa, but larger. Grander. The villa behind it was larger and grander, too—which was saying a lot.

"Let's get our tickets," Connor said, taking Kellan's elbow and leading him forward.

He opened his mouth to argue, but shut his lips, letting it slide. Connor's hand was on him again, and it was innocent enough. Right? Fighting a smile, he entered the short queue beside Connor.

"Due,"Connor said as he approached the window, holding two fingers up. He forked over the euro before Kellan could reach for his wallet. "Grazie."

Connor spun and offered Kellan a ticket.

"You should've let me pay."

"Why?I suggested this place."

"You're here as my companion. You shouldn't need to pay for anything."

Connor scoffed. "I'm not going to bicker over who picks up the check." He scanned a brochure he'd apparently picked up at the window. "Hopefully that Spanish of yours comes in handy for this." He shoved it toward Kellan, map side first.

"I'll do my best."

Kellan followed the signs to the entrance. Connor walked slowly through the garden, slowing progress. He didn't rush, surveying everything, pausing to sniff a flower here or there. Reaching for his phone, he snapped a few photos. His head swung in Kellan's direction. "Do you see this? It's gorgeous. Not sure what kind of flower it is. I need to research it later."

"You like flowers, hmm?"

"Is that a problem?" Connor replied, cocking his head to the side.

Kellan snorted.

"What was that for?" Connor asked as he sidled up beside him.

Kellan walked closer to the door, Connor falling into pace beside him. "Never judge a book by its cover."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, you surprise me. I shouldn't be surprised, you're a first-grade teacher for god's sake."

Connor frowned. "I don't understand where you're going with this."

"You're a jock. Six foot whatever, muscled, bearded—" he paused, shaking his head. "You just don't look like a first-grade teacher. Nor someone who stops to smell the roses."

"For the record, I'm not really into flowers. I kill everything I try to grow. But we're in Italy. I doubt I'll ever make it back here on a teacher's salary, so I'm looking at everything. Flowers, fauna, architecture, art…I want to see it all."

"Noted."

"Now I have a question for you."

Kellan lifted a brow. "Shoot."

"Why can't a six-foot something jock teach first grade? Or stop to smell the flowers?"

Kellan hedged, realizing he'd sounded exactly like his father. Don't act like a fag, Kellan. Don't wear purple. Don't cry. Stop being so soft…"I suppose there's… nothing wrong with it."

"Nope. There isn't." He stepped closer to Kellan. "You're not the first one to make a note of my profession as if a man isn't capable of nurturing and educating young children, but I do have to admit I'm a bit shocked to hear it come from you. You seem to be a very dedicated father, nurturing and teaching your own daughter."

"Yeah, but…" I'm not like you…

"But what?"

Kellan shrugged, unwilling to open his mouth and share his own bias.

"Because I'm not femme, I can't have a soft side. Is that it?"

Kellan met Connor's heated stare, face warming.

"Men can be whatever they want. They can nurture. They can enjoy beautiful flowers. They can show emotion. And they can love other men."

Kellan tensed.

"You need to reprogram that brain of yours. Delete all the data your father entered. Being in-tune with who you are, with your environment, with your emotions—that's a sign of strength." Connor moved an inch closer. "It doesn't make you girly or a fag or anything else that asshole told you. It makes you human."

Tears stung the backs of Kellan's eyes, and he hated himself for it. He'd always struggled to contain his emotions, and his father hadn't helped in that department. It was as if the worse his father beat him for it, the worse it had gotten. Thirty years of induced shame was difficult to erase. He turned his head away, but Connor wouldn't let him. He snagged Kellan's chin and tucked two strong fingers under it.

"Your father took a boy and filled him with shame. That's abuse in my book."

Kellan tensed, the shadows of the past always close. "Are you calling me a victim?"

"No." Connor released his chin and caressed his cheek. "We all have people in our past who've crossed lines. Some more than others. Our parents and caregivers had their own prejudices and childhood trauma to contend with. Mistakes are made. I'm sure you've don't things you regret with Abigail."

Kellan nodded. He worked hard not to pass his bullshit down to her, but he'd had missteps. Being confronted with his own narrow-mindedness in that moment made him realize maybe he'd screwed up more than he realized.

"If we let those bad moments define who we are, we let people like your father win. Don't let him define you." He pressed a kiss to Kellan's forehead and gazed down.

Kellan inhaled, wanting another kiss. To taste Connor on his lips and tongue.

To let the unlearning begin then and there.

He opened his mouth, hunger raging… but he remained silent. Kiss him.

There was hunger in Connor's eyes, too.

Kiss me.

Connor smiled before moving past… and the moment was gone. He just saw how damaged I am. Why would he want to kiss me now?

Kellan stood rooted to the spot, Connor's comments digging deep. Don't let him define you.

When he spun toward the entrance, he saw Connor waiting. He approached hesitantly; not sure he was ready for more of the man's insights—or where they'd lead him. He didn't want to relive the pain of the past.

What am I saying? I relive it every fucking day of my life.

Letting my father win.

He paused inches away from Connor, who reached for his hand.

Kellan stared at the hand, instinct screaming. For once, he ignored his inner policing. Connor's fingers entwined with his. He glanced down at their hands, instinct screaming to pull away. He fought the urge, tightening his grip and lifting his gaze to Connor.

Choose to be something more.

Connor grinned, a dimple Kellan had yet to notice appearing above his beard line. "Let's go."

They entered the museum, marveling over the pieces, with Kellan doing a piss-poor job of translating. It was enough for them to get the idea. Kellan wasn't as interested in the art or the furniture or the architecture. He couldn't take his eyes off Connor… or the sensation of their joined hands. His heart sped, the simple joy of having his hand held was almost too much for him to process.

After the museum, they explored the town of Varenna. They strolled along the Riva Grande before they stopped for a midday meal. Another ferry ride brought them to town of Bellagio where they ended up traveling to the Salita Mella —which they'd been told was one of the most Instagrammed locations in the world. The narrow alleyway was filled with bright, colorful shops and eateries that held a certain French style, in his opinion, with second and third story wrought iron balconies reminiscent of his trips to the French Quarter in New Orleans.

In one of the shops, Kellan found a necklace for Emma and a bracelet for Abigail and tucked them into the large pocket of his lightweight jacket. As the sun began its descent, they climbed aboard the ferry one last time, headed back to the villa. They were both exhausted from their travels—he more than Connor. He'd struggled to keep up with Connor's level of energy. He supposed being a first-grade teacher, Connor needed that kind of stamina to corral fifteen six-year-olds day in and day out.

A chill filled the air once the sun set. Connor moved in close, wrapping an arm around his back. He smiled, realizing the voice in his head had gone silent after one day of being ignored. He leaned his head on Connor's shoulder, reveling in the small intimacy of the moment.

Once home, Connor heated the dinner Ana Maria had left for them. Kellan excused himself for a phone call. Emma answered on the third ring.

"I was beginning to think you were too busy to call home," she said, a hint of humor to her voice.

"We've been exploring today."

"Exploring one another, I hope."

Kellan scoffed. "Varenna and Bellagio."

"What time is it there? Six?"

"Seven," Kellan remarked.

"Not too late. The exploring of Kellan can happen later tonight."

"Em—"

"What?"she asked, almost thrumming with joy from the other end.

"Don't think I don't see through you."

"Meaning?"

Kellan sat on the edge of the bed, stretching his tired legs. "You're trying to push me into coming out."

"Not even," Emma said. "I simply wanted to show you what you're denying yourself. What you do with that information is up to you."

"But you want me to come out," Kellan replied.

"Kel, if you don't want to, so be it. I won't make you do anything—but—you needed reminding that you aren't simply Abigail's father. You're a man with needs. Needs we all have. Needs I know aren't being met."

Kellan closed his eyes.

"I can't be that person for you… so I found a person and a place to allow you a glimpse of who you could be."

"Are you even putting the villa up for sale?"

"Maybe. Not this week or even this month. I just needed to get you as far from Texas as I could without you guessing what I was doing."

Kellan grunted. "Can I talk to our daughter?"

"Sure. If you tell me how attractive he is and if you've tapped that ass yet."

"No tapping," Kellan answered.

"Kel! Get with it."

Kellan laid back on the bed, starring up at the ceiling, a grin on his face. "There might've been a kiss."

Emma let out a whoop. "Who kissed who?"

"He did. Last night."

"And you didn't immediately jump into bed with him?"

"I did not."

"What a waste!" Emma scoffed. "You've ignored my other question, Kel."

"Hmm?" Sure, he'd ignored it. He didn't want to out their daughter's teacher, even if he knew Emma would be accepting.

"Is he attractive?"

"Veryattractive," he finally answered, knowing Emma wouldn't let up until she got some kind of answer.

"Well, alright, alright, alright,"she slurred in her best Matthew McConaughey voice.

He heard Abigail babbling away and he smiled. "Now let me talk to Abby."

"Fine," Emma said. The next voice he heard lifted his spirits.

"Daddy! Are you having fun in Italy?"

"I am, baby girl. I bought you a gift today when I was exploring one of the towns. I can't wait to see you so I can give it to you."

"When are you coming home?"

"It's only been a couple of days. I'll be here a few more."

"I miss you."

"I miss you, too, baby."

Abigail proceeded to recount her swimming lesson, the bird she'd found in the backyard with a broken wing that she and Ms. Price had nursed back to health and was residing in the sunroom birdcage (that was a plant holder, not a cage, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that), and the delicious lunch Mrs. Jacobs had made her that afternoon.

"Can we keep the bird, Daddy?"

"Darling, that's a wild creature. Wild creatures deserve to live free and uncaged." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he tensed. Did he deserve to live free and uncaged? For a few more days, he had the opportunity. After that? He wasn't so sure. "When it's healed, we'll need to release it."

"But I wanna bird."

"Maybe we can look into getting you a pet when you're a little older."

"I'm older now."

"We'll talk about it later," he warned.

"Fine."

Kellan had to laugh. Her exasperated fine sounded identical to the one Emma had spat moments before. "I've got to go eat dinner, but I'll call you tomorrow."

"Dinner? But we just ate lunch!"

"Ask Mama about time zones," he said, grinning.

"Okay," Abigail chirped. "Bye, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you, too, Abby."

When he ended the call, he glanced up to see Connor in the doorway.

"Abby's well?"

Kellan nodded, his gaze tangled in Connor's. "Yeah."

"It's going to be weird not being in class tomorrow."

"You took a week off work to come here with me. Must've been worth it."

"Had I known it was you, I'd have come for nothing but the plane ticket."

Was that true or the practiced words of a paid companion? He wanted to believe the former but knew better. "I bet you say that to all your dates."

"I don't,"Connor murmured, his voice low. "This is a job, just like any other. Most of the time."

Kellan saw the heat in the man's eyes but didn't know how to respond. It had been years since his last encounter and that had been with a stranger. He wasn't schooled in the art of seduction nor had experience to pull from. "I…" He swallowed the lump in his throat, cheeks flaming. He rose and turned to face Connor. "I've never done this."

"Done what?" Connor asked, a hint of a smile curling up the sides of his mouth.

"This," Kellan replied, waving a hand between them. "I think we both sense where this might be going, but in all honesty, I don't know. I've never…"

"Nev—"

Kellan sighed, cutting him off. "I may be reading this all wrong." He scoffed. "I probably am. Just ignore me."

"Do I get to talk now?"

Kellan released a shaky breath as Connor closed the gap between them. He stopped close enough to feel his body heat.

"We agreed we wouldn't cross the line. You seemed quite adamant about that."

"Yeah, of course," Kellan said. He took a step back, shame hitting him. "No lines crossed."

Connor reached out and dragged him closer. "We shouldn't. There's a lot at stake if we went too far."

"A lot, yes," Kellan whispered.

"I mean, it might be awkward when you dropped off Abby. Or worse," Connor drew him ever closer, their bodies just barely touching. "I wouldn't want to ruin things at the Academy. I like it there."

Kellan leaned in, seeking more. "You're right. We should just be friends."

Connor's head lowered. "Yep. Just friends."

Kellan caught his breath as he watched Connor's lips growing ever closer. "Just… friends. Yeah…"

Connor captured his lips in hungry possession. Kellan shuddered, Connor slamming against him. Their mouths warred, heat and desire blossoming… until they broke apart, gasping for air.

"You just said you've never done this. Didn't you tell me yesterday that you've been with a man?"

"A few lewd hookups in a men's room. Nameless strangers I never saw again." Kellan dragged in a breath. "I've never dated someone." Face flaming, he choked. "Not that today was a date. It was date-like, perhaps, but it wasn't a date."

Connor tipped his chin up. "Today was most certainly a date."

Kellan smiled, some of the awkward energy fading away. He was lost in Connor's stare and the hunger he saw within it.

"I'd be honored to be your first non-stranger, non-bathroom hookup—if we both agree to cross that line."

Kellan snorted, dragging his gaze away. Yet he couldn't keep it away long. It returned to Connor, incapable of seeing anything but him. Connor lifted a hand, bringing it to Kellan's temple. He brushed back a lock of hair there, sliding his fingers through the strands. Never did he pull his gaze away, capturing Kellan's and holding tight.

Without words, Connor pushed Kellan's jacket from his shoulders. Tackling the buttons of his button-down, Connor's hands were ever so lightly shaking. Not like the excited quivers rocking Kellan's own body. He was one large tremble, his legs like rubber. When Connor pushed his shirt wide, he forgot to be embarrassed. A soft growl of approval came the same time palms spread across his torso. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of Connor's touch. A snap and an unzip later, and his pants were tossed atop the rest of his clothes, leaving him in only briefs.

"Damn you're beautiful."

Kellan's face warmed.

"My turn," Connor murmured. He grasped Kellan's wrists and dragged them closer. Pressing against his buckle, Kellan got the idea.

He struggled to open it, with his hands shaking so much. Connor swept in to help. Not long after, they were both in only their underwear, inches away from one another.

"What next?" Kellan whispered.

"How about this?"Connor asked before he leaned in and seized Kellan's lips.

The kiss started off as innocuous as the one they'd shared at the bottom of the stairs the night before. It soon flourished into something more, a breath-robbing, lip-crushing, soul-searing caress of lover against lover. Connor coaxed more from him, nibbling and biting, drawing the embrace out longer. Building the fire that had been banked since the moment they'd first come face-to-face outside the villa—though he knew it had started well before that, in the halls of Allton Academy.

Connor broke the kiss as he slid one hand down. "Can I touch you… here," he asked, fingertips sliding under the band of Kellan's tented briefs.

"Yes," he croaked out, barely capable of speech.

The second Connor's hand trailed along the length of his shaft, conscious thought went out the window. He pressed his forehead to Connor's chin, rolling his hips and urging the man to touch him.

More.

The kiss to end all kisses resumed. Connor's hand wrapped around his cock, slowing sliding from base to tip. Kellan couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. His back bowed and he came, shooting into Connor's palm after a few strokes. Growling, he crested, his desire coating Connor's hand. As comprehension returned, embarrassment followed.

He'd come in a matter of minutes.

Face flaming, he backed away. "I'm so sorry. It's… it's…"

"Been a long time," Connor finished for him, smiling gently. "You've done nothing any other touch-deprived person hasn't done."

"Touch-deprived?" That's a stretch.

Connor lifted his hand to his lips, licking Kellan's seed from his fingers. "You said yourself that it's been a long, long time. Years, from the sounds of things."

"I touch people all the time."

"The way I just touched you?"

Kellan frowned.

Connor closed the gap, lifting Kellan's chin. "There's touch. And then there's touch. A hug from a loved one can go a long way—but the caress of an intimate partner? It's a whole other thing." Connor licked the last of Kellan's cum from his fingers. "I enjoyed seeing you let go. Long or short, it doesn't matter. You found pleasure, and that's all that does."

"What about you?"

Connor smiled. "We don't have to worry about me. This trip is all about you."

"I want…" Kellan cleared his throat. "I want to make you feel good, too."

"Okay," he whispered. "What would you like to do?"

"Taste you. Like you did me." Kellan knelt, knees pressed into the antique, silk rug. Straight ahead was Connor's cock, stretching the front of his bright-colored, Andrew Christian briefs. Kellan chuckled to himself. In the past, he'd jerked off to some of the videos hosted on the company's website. He'd never expected having a man modeling a pair for him in real life.

Hesitantly, he reached out, trailing his fingertips over the leaking head. Each touch that followed gave him courage, coupled with the sighs and moans of pleasure coming from Connor's lips. When he drew the waistband down, the shaft popped up to greet him, brushing against his lips. Eager, he opened his mouth and sucked the tip into his mouth.

Kellan groaned, his cock already hardening again, and he sucked a few inches more. It didn't take long for him to suck in earnest, taking Connor as far back in his throat as he could while hollowing his cheeks.

"For someone without… much experience," Connor murmured, pausing to groan. "You do that… very well."

Kellan smiled around Connor's shaft, soaking in the praise. Connor slid his fingers through the hair at the back of Kellan's head and took control of the pace. Kellan whined, hungry to taste Connor's release on his tongue.

"Slow down, baby," Connor murmured. "We have all night." He chuckled. "We have all week."

But Kellan was starved for the connection. He fought Connor's hold, quickening the pace.

"You're gonna make me come too fast."

Kellan didn't care. He tightened his lips around Connor's thick shaft.

"Fuck!"Connor yelled before his body stiffened. The first jet of hot cum was salty. The rest were sweeter, coating his tongue as he swallowed as much as he could take. Drops spilled from the corners of his mouth, hitting his bare chest. Lifting a hand, he rubbed the seed into his skin.

Connor pulled from his lips, gasping for air. After a few seconds, he lifted his gaze, shaking his head. "No experience, my ass."

"I like sucking cock," Kellan replied.

"And it shows," Connor said, still panting. He collapsed on the side of the bed, hands on his knees. "Fuck, Kel—your mouth." He laughed. "You have a talent. It's a shame it goes to waste."

"Maybe it won't this week, hmm?" An acrid scent came to his nose. "Is something burning?"

"Dinner!" Connor cried before running from the bedroom. Kellan dragged off his wet briefs, washed up as quickly as possible and drew on his robe before hurrying down to see if dinner was ruined.

From the scent and the smoke, he was fairly sure it was. He glanced at the burnt lasagna, laughing. "We better not let Ana Maria see that."

"Oh, no," Connor said. He used a fork to lift off the top layer of burnt cheese. "Maybe we can eat the center bits? They don't look burnt."

"Or we could walk to the village and eat dinner there," Kellan said before stifling a yawn. Going out didn't sound good at all. Jet lag was hitting hard.

Connor took a bite from the center. "Damnit! This is amazing. Even charred."

He scooped up more from the center and offered it to Kellan. Kellan met his stare before opening his lips and allowing Connor to feed him.

"Shit! That is good. And we ruined it."

"Pffft… ruined? I hardly think so." He took another bite, eyeing Kellan. "If you want to go out, we can—but you look utterly exhausted."

"Jet lag after a day of sightseeing has taken a toll." He yawned again.

"And you just came. Hard. That doesn't help."

Kellan's cheeks warmed. "Let's just eat what we can and call it a night."

They sat at the kitchen table picking at the burnt dish, drinking from another bottle of wine, and laughing. Connor stole kisses between the bites, and after they'd soaked the remaining inedible lasagna, they lit a fire in the main bedroom, removed the last of their clothing, and slid into the big bed together.

Kellan had feared not being able to sleep, even as tired as he was. The excitement of sharing a bed with a man? Too much. Yet, he drifted off in Connor's arms and couldn't recall the last time he slept so well.

* * *

Connor stared down into Kellan's face. Sleep had taken all of the stress and wiped it away. He was beautiful when at peace, far surpassing simple good looks. Angelic, almost. Connor had struggled to find sleep himself, too excited about the day and the night they'd shared. The fire crackled, sending light and shadow dancing along the walls of the bedroom.

Kellan shifted, rolling to his other side.

That's when Connor got his first peek at the scars scattered over Kellan's back. He traced a fingertip over one of the longest, barely touching the puckered skin there. Rage filled him, and he hoped his assumptions were wrong. If Norman Rhodes had caused that, he would live to regret it. Connor wasn't sure he had the power to inflict real pain, but if it took him the rest of his days, he would do his damnedest.

The hour grew late. Kellan rolled again, snuggling close. Connor drew him even closer and closed his eyes, finally able to sleep. Dreams of revenge followed.