Just a Bit Heartless (Straight Guys 13)

Thankfully, it seemed to work—Lorenzo’s face softened a little. “Let’s go,” he said curtly and said something to the guards in Italian.

Jordan hurried after him, taking in his surroundings. This villa was majestic, but at the same time it looked more comfy and intimate than the one in Tivoli. There was a certain quality to it that stole Jordan’s breath away. It was peaceful here. Beautiful but wild and lonely. The gardens here weren’t groomed to perfection.

“It’s his home, isn’t it?” Jordan said, looking at the still pond.

“It’s his main place of residence, yes,” Lorenzo said. “He doesn’t entertain guests and family here. How long are you staying for?”

Jordan’s stomach clenched. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “Why are you asking?”

“I need to know how long he’ll be distracted from work,” Lorenzo said, scoffing.

“Are you saying I’m bad for him?”

Lorenzo shrugged. “Not sure yet.” His lips thinned. “I hope you know what you’re doing. If you decide to stick around, there will be no going back. He’s not the sort of man to ever allow that.”

Jordan licked his dry lips and laughed a little. “You won’t scare me away. I know him.”

His face grim, Lorenzo shook his head. “He’s a different man when he’s with you—a better man. You’ve never seen him at his worst and nastiest. People fear him for a reason. He cares for you more than he’s ever cared for anyone. It scares me.”

A shiver ran up Jordan’s spine. Maybe Lorenzo’s words should have scared him. But they didn’t. It felt good to have another person, someone who knew Damiano well, confirm that he cared a lot for Jordan, no matter how twisted and intense that devotion was. It didn’t scare Jordan; it exhilarated him. Sometimes he was afraid that his feelings were one-sided, that Damiano couldn’t possibly need him as badly as Jordan needed him. So Lorenzo’s words only reassured him, no matter how messed up it might be.

“You have nothing to be scared of,” Jordan said. “I have no intention of ever leaving him.”

Lorenzo shook his head, his expression pinched. “You haven’t seen the ugly side of him. You might walk out. Or someone might kill you. Or kidnap you. Or rape you. Or—”

“Wow, thanks,” Jordan said with a laugh. “That’s the sort of pep talk I needed—not. Relax, buddy.”

Lorenzo heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I just worry.”

“I worry for him, too,” Jordan said, more softly. It was good to talk to someone who genuinely cared about Damiano too. No matter what Damiano might think, Lorenzo clearly was loyal to him. “I have no delusions. I know what he’s capable of. I know he’s not a good man. I know he’s capable of killing in cold blood. Maybe it should scare me, but it doesn’t. I feel safe—the safest—with him.”

Lorenzo eyed him for a moment before nodding. For the first time ever, Jordan could see something like approval in his gaze.

“He’s in his office,” Lorenzo said, gesturing toward the door ahead.

Swallowing, Jordan headed toward it.

He stopped in front of it, trying to quash his doubt and uncertainty.

Then he pushed the door open.

***

Damiano didn’t lift his eyes from his computer when he heard the door open. It was probably Lorenzo, back to nag him into eating. He didn’t feel like eating.

He glanced down at the thick ring on his finger and his stomach clenched.

He’d had the ring for almost two days, but it was still extremely distracting, its heavy weight like a brand. Every time he looked at it, his chest filled with a sensation not unlike drowning but much more pleasant. Jordan had given it to him. Jordan was wearing a matching one. The thought was like a snake, coiling around all his thoughts, poisoning them with overwhelming possessiveness. For the first time, Damiano understood the appeal of wedding rings.

“Hey.”

Damiano went rigid, his eyes snapping upward. For a moment, he thought he had lost his mind and started hallucinating. Because there was Jordan leaning against the door.

Jordan smiled crookedly. “Why are you looking at me like I’m a ghost?”

He really was here. In his home.

“What are you doing here?” Damiano heard himself say.

Jordan pushed away from the door and walked to Damiano.

“Hi there,” he said, placing his hand on the back of Damiano’s chair and leaning down. His blue eyes looked hesitant. “You look like you’re unhappy to see me.”

Damiano inhaled deeply, taking a lungful of his familiar scent.

Unhappy? It wasn’t the emotion he was feeling.

“What are you doing here?” he repeated, his hands settling on Jordan’s waist. To steady him. Not because he needed to touch him. It had been just two days, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t that pathetic.

Jordan’s dark gold brows furrowed, something uncertain about his expression as his gaze roamed over Damiano’s.

Christ, he wanted to devour him, bite his pink, beautiful lips, crawl under his skin and eat him from the inside, find out what he tasted like, what his warmth tasted like. Damiano could almost taste it on the back of his tongue, and he nearly choked on the saliva pooling in his mouth.