(Blue Notes 2)The Melody Thief (13 page)

F
ITS
AND
S
TARTS

C
ARY whimpered in his sleep and woke with a start in Antonio’s bed. Antonio reached over and drew Cary against his chest, murmuring something reassuring into his hair. It felt so natural, so comforting to be held like this.

Cary struggled to remember the dream but, as always, came up empty. He had a vague sensation that he had seen his mother’s face, but that’s all he was sure of. The end result was always the same: he felt like a child. Lost. Unloved. Until Antonio kissed his cheek.

Cary sighed as Antonio kissed him again and stroked his face. “Better, caro?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now sleep.”

And Cary did.

L
IGHT filtered in from the window, and Cary, still half-asleep, rolled over in bed to avoid it. His arm fell across something solid, and he opened his eyes.

Antonio.

“
Buongiorno
,” Antonio said, gathering Cary into his arms. “I was hoping you’d still be here.”

Cary was surprised he
was
still there. He had never spent the entire night with another man. He was also more than a little embarrassed about waking Antonio up in the middle of the night.

“Why?” he quipped, doing his best to shake his discomfort. “Was there something you were hoping I’d do if I stayed?”

“I can’t decide between sex or a bath before breakfast. I was hoping you might be able to help.”

“You just need a little imagination, Signor Bianchi.” He got out of the bed and pulled Antonio along with him toward the bathroom. “In the States, we call it ‘multi-tasking’.”

“Ah, I see. Is that what this is?” He leaned over and licked a line up Cary’s neck, found the lobe of his ear, and bit it.

“We haven’t made it to the bathroom yet,” Cary pointed out.

“Mmm.” Antonio grabbed a condom from the drawer by the bed and held it up with a grin.

“Good point. We might want one of those.”

“Might?” Antonio asked with a raised eyebrow. “If you’re going to help me, we
need
one.”

“Okay. Fine. We definitely want one of those.” Cary bit his lower lip and waited for Antonio to join him in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, they kissed in the large bathtub as it filled. In the sunshine from the skylight above, Cary got his first good look at Antonio’s naked body. His skin was smooth over the ridges that defined the muscles of his chest and abdomen. Sunlight caught the drops of water that dotted Antonio’s arms and shimmered there.

Cary took the bar of soap and slid it over Antonio’s skin. For the first time, he noticed the jagged scar that ran from Antonio’s waist over his hip and down his left thigh. “That looks like it was painful,” he said.

“It was.” Antonio did not elaborate. “But you were supposed to be cleaning me, weren’t you?”

“Demanding, aren’t we?” The soap slipped from Cary’s fingers into the water as Antonio leaned forward on his knees between Cary’s legs.

“I’m always demanding.” Antonio reached into the water and retrieved the soap. “But I think
you
need a little cleaning here”—he pointed to Cary’s abdomen and soaped it up—“and here.” Cary bit his tongue as Antonio worked his way down to the dark curls at the base of his jutting erection.

“Mmm. Yeah. Right… ah… oh shit… there….” Cary tried to keep from shaking as Antonio cupped his ass, pulling it upward so that the object of his attentions was right above the water line.

Cary’s ears were now just below the tiny bubbles at the surface of the bathwater, and he realized the muffled growls he heard were his own. With Antonio’s body so tantalizingly close, he moved to reach out and touch it, catching himself at the last moment before his cast slipped into the water and ending up with his entire head underneath in an effort to keep his wrist dry.

“Maybe we should try this a bit differently.” Antonio chuckled as Cary righted himself, coughing and spluttering, still managing to keep the cast above the bathwater. “Turn around and put your arms over the side.”

Cary complied with a broad grin. His cock stood at attention at the thought that, at last, Antonio would take him from behind. Biting his lower lip, he adjusted his legs underneath himself so his ass barely broke the surface of the water. He was rewarded with a single finger moving across his hole.

“Leave your hands there,” Antonio ordered as Cary reached to grasp his own erection. “I have no intention of explaining to your doctor why the cast needs to be replaced. I can take care of that too.”

Cary closed his eyes as Antonio breached his opening with his fingers and began to stretch it. “God, Antonio, I’m dying here. Just hurry up and fuck me!”

This elicited a full belly laugh from Antonio, who pressed the head of his cock against the tight entrance. Cary, ever impatient, pushed backward to seat Antonio inside and nearly slipped under the water once more.

“You’re bound and determined to break your neck.” Antonio rescued Cary by grasping his waist with a powerful arm.

Cary opened his mouth to protest, but Antonio pressed smoothly inside this time, and Cary’s gasp was lost in the sound of the water as it splashed about the tub. “Oh, damn… right… there,” he moaned as Antonio pulled out and then angled back in, hitting his prostate.

Once Cary was leaning safely over the tub, Antonio took one hand off Cary’s hips and reached around to clasp Cary’s cock. He let his thumb rub the sensitive tip, pressed down into the slit to Cary’s keening cries, then stroked it in tandem with his thrusts.

“Harder. Please… I want… I need….”

Antonio did not object but moved faster, sending the water flying about the tub and beyond. “So tight. So good… I’m going to come like this, caro.”

The term of endearment put Cary over the edge. He spurted onto Antonio’s hand and the side of the bathtub, and Antonio followed in short order, shuddering and panting his release before he collapsed against Cary’s back, his hands planted firmly beside Cary’s to prevent him from slipping backward.

“How did we do?” Antonio asked after he had caught his breath.

Cary turned around and held out his arm with a self-satisfied smile. “Only a few drops. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good. I’m not sure I can say the same about the floor.” He leaned over to kiss Cary’s neck, and Cary shivered in response. “Now, where’s that bar of soap?”

A
N
HOUR
later, Cary stumbled out of the bedroom to the smell of coffee and fresh pastries. “Don’t you need to go to work?” he asked Antonio as he sat down at the dining table.

“Normally, yes. But I’m taking the day off. Good thing too, because I’m going to need a nap after breakfast. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, you know.”

“Really? Would you like company?”

“Definitely. Although I can’t promise much more than sleeping,” Antonio added. “It’s not as easy for us old men.” He winked.

“How old are you?” Cary asked as he pulled a piece off of a
cornetti
, the Italian version of a croissant.

“Thirty-three. But right now, I feel a lot older.” Antonio laughed as he poured them both coffee.

“I’m not all that much younger.”

“Five years makes a difference, caro. But I’ll give you a little leeway for that wrist.”

Cary tried not to look overly pleased that Antonio knew how old he was. It wasn’t as if it was a secret, but the thought that Antonio had taken the time to find out made him almost giddy. “So,” he began after a moment’s pause, “tell me. How the hell is a guy like you still single?”
Gorgeous man, easy personality, great fuck….

For the first time since they had met, Antonio appeared ill at ease, looking briefly away before meeting Cary’s eyes again. “It’s a long story.” When Cary waited patiently for more of an explanation, Antonio added, “And one I’d prefer not to talk about now. Perhaps someday….”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Cary thought of the photograph in the bedroom and what Massi had said about his namesake. He was pretty sure the man pictured with Antonio was Massimo, and he was just as sure Massimo was the “long story.”

“You aren’t prying.” Antonio stood and began to gather their dishes. “And you don’t need to apologize.

“So, caro mio,” Antonio said a few minutes later with a full-out yawn, “after this nap, will you come with me to pick Massi up at school?”

“The little monster?”

“He finishes in about two hours. I thought maybe after, we might make some dinner here.”

“I really should go back to my apartment at some point.” He was beginning to crave Roberta’s cooking. Antonio was a gracious host, but the thought of another dinner of chewy meat and salty sauce wasn’t exactly appealing. He smiled and fingered the soft fabric of his shirt—Antonio’s shirt. “I need to check my mail and make sure Roberta isn’t ready to file a missing-persons report to the police.”

“Roberta?”

“My housekeeper. The Rock of Gibraltar. She keeps my agent from hopping the next plane from Paris when I do stupid shit,
and
she’s an amazing cook.”

Antonio grinned. “I’m jealous.” He put an arm around Cary’s shoulders and kissed him on the neck as they walked back to the bedroom.

“I’m a horrible cook. My mother was too. Justin and I grew up on a steady diet of frozen dinners and canned fruit. It’s amazing we survived.”

“Are you two close?” Antonio shut the bedroom door behind them.

“I always wanted us to be” was Cary’s slightly wistful answer. “I was so busy traveling to gigs when I was a kid, I didn’t see much of him.”

“I read your bio,” Antonio admitted as he pulled back the covers and climbed back in bed with an outstretched hand. Cary settled into the crook of Antonio’s arm. “Sounds like a difficult life for a child.”

Cary tensed, but Antonio held him close. “I was lucky,” Cary said. It was a mechanical response, conditioned by years of practice. “How many fourteen-year-olds get to play with the Chicago Symphony?”

“Very few, I suppose.”

“But?”

“But nothing, caro. I’ve heard you play, remember? You’re a wonderful cellist and a beautiful musician.”

Cary’s shoulders relaxed.
Why are you so defensive?
“Sorry,” he said as he settled back against Antonio’s chest.

Antonio kissed his forehead. “No need to apologize, caro mio.”

“
P
APÀ! Connore!” Massimo shouted from the gates of the school yard. He ran, dodging the other children on the sidewalk until he reached Antonio’s outstretched arms, throwing himself headlong into them and allowing himself to be hoisted into the air and swung about. “Connore! You came!”

“Hey, Massi. How was school?” Cary asked, then looked to Antonio, who mouthed,
You’re doing fine.

“It was okay,” Massimo said with an overly dramatic shrug. “But Cosina and Giovanni wouldn’t let me play football with them at recess.”

“They’re jealous,” Antonio pointed out with a wink in Cary’s direction. “They know you’ll beat them every time.”

“I didn’t know you played football,” Cary said, using the European term for soccer. He glanced once more at Antonio, who nodded in encouragement. “Where did you learn how?”

“My papà taught me. I’m going to play in the pros when I’m grown up.”

“I’m sure you will,” Antonio agreed with a smile for Cary.

As they headed down the street, Massimo circled happily around them, babbling and singing. “Where are we going?” he asked when he finally realized they were not walking in the direction of Antonio’s apartment.

“We’re going to my house,” Cary told Massimo.

He had expected a protest, but instead, Massimo said, “Really?” His blue eyes were wide with excitement.

“Really.”

“This means you like my papà, doesn’t it?”

Antonio lifted an eyebrow but said nothing, leaving a very embarrassed Cary to flounder.

“Yes, it means I like him,” Cary said with a sigh.

“And that you’ll stay with us?”

“Massimo, remember what we talked about?” Antonio shook his head in warning. “You’re asking too many questions.”

“It’s okay,” Cary said. “I’m sure it means I’ll be seeing more of you both. But I have my own place, remember?”

Cary’s words seemed to remind Massimo of where they were headed, and he took Cary’s hand with a quick glance upward to make sure Cary didn’t object. And what could Cary do, anyhow, but hold that squirmy, slightly sticky hand?

“S
IGNOR
R
EDDING
!”
A very surprised Roberta peered up at them from the doorway. “Oh! You have company.”

“This is Signor Bianchi and his son, Massimo,” Cary said as she waved them inside. “Antonio, Massi, this is Signora Roberta Capello.”

“So nice to meet you,” Antonio said as he took Roberta’s hand in his, then covered it with his left. “I hear you keep Cary out of trouble.”

“I try, signore, I try.” Roberta clucked her tongue against her cheek. “But my little
stangone
, he is a challenge.”

Antonio laughed. “Oh, I know that quite well.”

Roberta shot a glance at Cary, who ignored her pointedly.

“I’m hungry. Are we staying for dinner?” Massimo asked from across the room.

“I don’t know—” began Cary, only to be interrupted by Roberta.

“That would be wonderful! I will make you all a little snack, and I will go out and buy some shellfish for paella.”

“What’s pella?” asked Massimo.

“Pa-e-lla,” Antonio corrected.

Roberta smiled and bent her knees so her face was eye-level with Massimo’s. “It is a little like a rice stew, with sausage and shellfish. You know, lobster, crab, clams?”

“I
love
clams!”

“It’s good, then,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Come with me first, little man, and I will get you some bread and cheese. Later, if you’d like, you can help me with the clams, okay?”

Massimo jumped up and down. “She’s going to let me help! Is that all right, Papà?”