“Stop reminding me of it.”
“Of what?” Satan said. “Of having my cock in your mouth?”
“Stop saying that.” Nate bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think very unsexy thoughts.
It didn’t work.
His thoughts kept fixating on Ferrara’s cock. Inches away from him. Probably half-hard at the very least, considering how horny Satan always was. Thick and long, standing tall between Ferrara’s muscular thighs, the cockhead fat and red and glistening with pre-come.
Nate’s mouth watered.
God, he needed to distract himself, before he could do something he would regret.
Nate searched for something to say. “Why did you leave Italy?”
“What makes you think I’ll tell you?” Ferrara said, but his tone was mild, almost soft.
Sensing a prime opportunity to actually get some answers, Nate opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling again. “Let’s play a game. You’ll honestly answer my question and then I’ll answer yours, and so on. If one of us doesn’t want to answer the question, he owes the other a hundred thousand dollars.”
“You don’t have a hundred thousand dollars.”
“I’m an open book,” Nate said with a smile, very pleased with himself for coming up with such an ingenious idea. Either he’d finally get some answers, or he’d be rich by the end of the night. Win-win. “I have nothing to hide, so I’m not going to need it.”
After a moment, Ferrara said, “Fine.”
It made Nate a little wary. Was there something Ferrara actually wanted to know about him? Something he wouldn’t want to answer?
“You first,” Nate said. “Why did you leave Italy? It’s obvious that you love it. There had to be a reason.”
He heard the other man exhale.
“There isn’t a single reason. There were a few reasons that contributed to my decision.”
“Come on, that’s not an answer.”
Ferrara was silent for so long Nate started thinking he wasn’t going to tell him, but finally, he broke the silence. “My uncle was shot in front me when I was nine,” he said, his voice quiet and so carefully toneless it didn’t sound natural. “My father has barely survived countless assassination attempts. That life… it isn’t as glamorous and fun as Hollywood makes it out to be. You have to constantly watch your back. You can’t even step out of the house without bodyguards. It drove me up the wall. I felt caged. I was utterly fed up by the time I was eighteen. I wanted out. And I got out.”
Nate frowned. He almost regretted asking the question now. He didn’t want to understand his boss or sympathize with him. He was also a little confused. Olivia had told him that Ferrara’s family had kicked him out. But then again, Ferrara leaving the family business likely hadn’t endeared him to his family. Maybe they were pissed off enough to refuse pay ransom for him. “You said there wasn’t just one reason.”
“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Ferrara said, a hint of amusement appearing in his voice. “Yes, there were other reasons. Less important reasons.”
“Like what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You promised an honest answer.”
“An honest answer isn’t the same as a full answer. Technically I did answer your question.”
Nate glowered at him in the dark.
The bastard laughed. “I can practically see the face you’re making right now.”
Nate turned onto his side and poked at Ferrara’s ribs with his finger, hard. “Give me a full answer or that’s a hundred thousand dollars you owe me and I’m not answering any of your questions.”
Ferrara caught his hand and forced him to stop poking at his ribs. But instead of letting go of it, he just put Nate’s hand on his stomach.
Nate’s fingers twitched against the hard muscle and warm skin. He should probably remove his hand. But… it wasn’t doing anything. It was just laid on his boss’s abs. There was nothing weird about it, right?
“As far as I can remember, there have always been half-naked women in our house,” Ferrara said, his voice neutral once again. “When I was a kid, I didn’t know it wasn’t normal, and didn’t understand that there was a correlation between the half-naked women and my mother falling asleep with a wine bottle.”
He didn’t say anything else, but Nate could read between the lines. A cheating father and a depressed, alcoholic mother would make anyone want to leave such a toxic household. Coupled with the assassination attempts, bodyguards, and the immense pressure… Nate felt a reluctant pang of sympathy.
He chewed on his lip, stroking Ferrara’s happy trail absentmindedly. “Is that why you don’t do relationships? Because you didn’t see a good example of it growing up?”
“That’s two questions, not one. Shouldn’t it be your turn?”
“I’ll answer two questions if you answer this one.” Nate wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so important, but he just wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about this man, what made him tick, what had shaped him into the man he was now. It was probably a little messed-up how much he liked learning things about a man he couldn’t stand, but Nate had come to accept it. This man messed him up, period.