“He’s past his prime as a player,” Raffaele said, his eyes trained on Luke.
It suddenly occurred to Nate that Luke was very pretty. He was prettier than most women.
Nate’s jaw tightened in annoyance. So what? he snapped at himself. It didn’t matter that Nate looked like a plain oaf compared to a twink like Luke. He was a normal guy. He didn’t want to look pretty, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t give a shit if Raffaele wanted to fuck Luke. He didn’t.
Irritated with himself, Nate ripped his gaze away from the pair and looked at Demidov.
The Russian seemed content enough to sip his tea and watch his lover’s animated conversation with another man. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy or insecurity in his eyes.
Roman Demidov was a handsome man, objectively. His skin was kind of too pale for Nate’s liking, but the combination of his dark hair and blue eyes was striking. He clearly was in great shape, too.
Nate tried to imagine having sex with him. Tried to imagine allowing him to fuck him. The idea… wasn’t completely repulsive, but it was definitely very weird. He just couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t imagine being into it.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Raffaele suddenly said, gripping his wrist and dragging him to his feet.
Startled, Nate allowed it and followed him in silence until they walked a significant distance away from the beach patio.
“He’s not interested in fucking you.”
It took Nate’s brain a few moments to catch up. He glared at Raffaele, yanking his wrist from his grip. “Fuck off. I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him.”
Raffaele’s lips twisted into something derisive. “It was written all over your face, with the way you were studying him like a piece of meat.”
Nate’s fingers itched to wipe that sneer away with his fist. Or with his mouth—and that infuriated him even more. “I’m surprised you even noticed with the way you were chatting up Luke.”
Those black eyebrows raised. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
God, he hated him.
“In your dreams,” Nate ground out through his gritted teeth. “I simply don’t want Demidov to take offense just because you suddenly decided that you like fucking men.”
“You think I like fucking men?” Raffaele said, stopping and turning to him. There was an expression of genuine surprise on his face.
Nate scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You seemed to like it plenty this morning. And this afternoon. And yesterday four times.”
The insufferable man had the nerve to laugh, his white teeth flashing against his sun-bronzed skin.
“What?” Nate snapped. “What’s so funny? Are you going to claim you actually don’t like it?”
Raffaele put his hand on Nate’s nape and pulled him closer.
Nate wet his lips with his tongue, hating the way his heartbeat picked up and his lips were tingling in anticipation of a kiss already. Fuck, he needed help. Why did he feel like a junkie who was about to be given his drug?
“I don’t like fucking men,” Raffaele said, almost against his mouth.
His eyelids growing heavy, Nate parted his lips. Please.
Raffaele nipped on Nate’s bottom lip. “It just turns me on to see how much you love having my cock in you.”
“I don’t,” Nate said and whimpered when Raffaele pushed his tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it with relish, heat spreading to his lower stomach, to his cock and balls.
“You do,” Raffaele said when he allowed him to breathe. “I’ve never seen a cock slut like you. If you were a woman, you’d be wet for me all the time.”
Nate shivered. “Fuck you,” he said weakly.
Raffaele’s hand slid down his back and then slipped under the waistband of Nate’s shorts. A finger stroked right over Nate’s hole.
Nate gasped, his hole twitching.
“See? You’re fucking wet.”
Nate flushed. “It’s lube, you ass.”
“Exactly,” Raffaele said, biting his earlobe. “You haven’t even bothered to clean yourself down there. You actually like feeling loose and sloppy, don’t you?”
Nate didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. All his efforts were on not making any sound as Raffaele’s finger massaged his hole in circular motions. God. God.
“Look at you,” Raffaele said hoarsely. “You’re letting me finger you in public, on a beach where anyone can see us.”
Nate buried his face in Raffaele’s shoulder to muffle his moan.
“Roman and Luke can probably still see us,” Raffaele said in a low voice, pushing the finger in. “Do you think they can see where my hand is?”
“God, shut up,” Nate moaned, pushing back against that finger. Fuck it, maybe he was a slut.
Raffaele slipped a second finger into him and started scissoring them. “I’m surprised you thought you were straight considering how much you love taking it up the ass.”
“Fuck you,” Nate bit out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Christ, he’d never get enough of this feeling.
“In a moment,” Raffaele said. He steered Nate slightly without withdrawing his fingers and then sat down on a big rock, pulling Nate into his lap. It took only a moment to kick Nate’s shorts off.