“Can you walk?” Raffaele said.
Nate assessed his state.
“I can try,” he mumbled. “Just don’t let me fall.”
“I won’t,” Raffaele said after a moment, putting Nate’s arm around his shoulders. “Hold on.”
Nate held on, and they started walking.
Truth be told, Raffaele had to do most of the walking. He was basically carrying Nate by the time they got out of the club.
“Our car is there,” Maya’s voice said. She sounded tense. Uncomfortable.
“I’ll take him in my car,” Raffaele said.
Nate’s half-hard cock went fully hard again. “Yeah,” he said, nuzzling Raffaele’s neck. “Take me in your car.”
“Nate!” Maya choked out, sounding a mix of scandalized, amused, and disapproving.
Nate couldn’t bring himself to care. He sucked on Raffaele’s neck, inhaling his scent greedily. His nausea was nearly gone, arousal pushing to the forefront of his mind. God, he wanted him. So, so much.
“Want you,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around Raffaele’s neck.
Raffaele’s arm around him tightened. “You’re drugged,” he said, his voice almost gentle.
Nate shivered, burying his face tighter against his neck. “Always want you. Only you.”
Maya made another strangled noise. “Shut up, Nate,” she said. “You’re going to hate yourself tomorrow.”
Nate didn’t care. It was suddenly of the utmost importance to tell Raffaele how much he wanted him. “Hate being away from you,” he muttered, kissing Raffaele’s throat. “I used to hate your horrible soul-sucking kisses, but now I want them all the time. Want you all the time. Miss sleeping next to you.”
“Nate, shut up,” Maya said, sounding pained.
Nate whined in protest when Raffaele gently pushed him away. “Don’t go,” he said, clutching at Raffaele’s shirt.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Raffaele said, his voice uncharacteristically patient. “But you need to get into the car. I have to drive. I can’t drive with you all over me.”
“No,” Nate said stubbornly. “Maya can drive. You stay with me.”
Raffaele sighed. “Here,” he said, presumably to Maya. “You’ll have to drive.”
“What about Nate’s car?” Maya said.
“I’ll send someone to pick it up,” Raffaele said.
And then Raffaele half-carried Nate into the backseat of his car and settled him against the seat. Too far. Nate made a noise of protest and buried his face in Raffaele’s neck again.
“Don’t puke,” Raffaele told him as the car took off.
“Should we take him to the hospital?” Maya said.
“No,” Nate said again.
“I think he should be fine after the drug wears off,” Raffaele said after a moment. “If he doesn’t get better by the morning, then take him to the hospital.”
“Don’t want the hospital,” Nate mumbled, kissing his Adam’s apple. How could a person smell so good at ass o’clock? “Want you. Only you.”
“For god’s sake, Nate,” Maya said. “Please shut up.”
Nate did shut up. He slipped his hand down Raffaele’s firm chest, enjoying how strong it was, then lower, playing with the buckle of his belt.
“Nate,” Raffaele said quietly, his voice not quite as steady as normal. When Nate slipped his hand lower, he found out why: the bulge straining Raffaele’s pants was unmistakable. Nate groped it possessively. God, he couldn’t wait to get Raffaele inside of him again. It’d been too long. Four whole hours.
“You’d better not be touching his dick, Nate,” Maya said, her voice strained.
Nate froze guiltily. How did she know? It was dark in the backseat. “Am not touching his dick,” he said sulkily, putting his hand back on Raffaele’s chest.
There was something soothing about the steady beat of his heart. He felt so very safe.
His eyelids grew heavier and then—nothing.
Chapter 24
Maya Parrish shot another look at the mirror and what she saw in the backseat made her purse her lips. Her little brother was sleeping like a baby, his face tucked against Raffaele Ferrara’s neck and his hand clutching his shirt as if he was afraid the man would disappear. Just sex. Right.
“So,” Maya said, breaking the silence. “Your relationship with my brother… what is it?”
The man’s face was obscured by shadows, the streetlights occasionally illuminating his sharp, dark eyes. “My relationship?” he repeated in a vaguely mocking undertone, as if the mere concept was ridiculous. Which was kind of hilarious, considering that his hand was still cradling Nate’s nape in a manner that was hard to call anything but possessive.
Jesus, this man grated on her nerves. He looked like a typical rich asshole: arrogant, proud, and so damn self-assured it was difficult not to defer to him. It annoyed Maya that she’d ended up asking for Ferrara’s opinion on where to take her own brother. Nate had been right that this man was a force of nature, whether one liked him or not. It was beyond annoying.
Not to mention that she didn’t like the way he touched her baby brother: with the same entitled confidence, as if it were his right.
“Are you going to keep fucking him until you’re caught and his career is fucked, pun intended?” Maya said. “Because it’s going to happen if you keep acting like such a selfish ass.”