“Whatever you have in mind sounds better than wallowing,” says Dario. “I am being too dramatic.”
Charlie stands and catches Dario’s drooping chin between his fingers. Lifts his gaze so they are eye to eye. He’s not sure where this confidence came from, but he peers into those limitless hazel eyes that seem to morph with each passing second like a fast-moving storm. “Where you see dramatics, I see conviction,” Charlie says.
“Selina didn’t think so,” Dario says, sounding downtrodden.
“Let’s not talk about her anymore,” says Charlie. He drops his hand. “If she doesn’t see your passion for sustainability, kindness and connection, that’s her loss.”
“But your gain?” Dario asks, slipping his palm into the hand Charlie dropped.
“Yeah.” Charlie slams the space between them shut. Their chests graze.
“Charlie Moore…” Dario gasps. “Did you come here to make me feel better withsex?”
Charlie shyly smirks and shrugs, playing up his small-town innocence. “If sex would make you feel better, then yes, that’s what I came here to do. But if that’s not what you need, I’m happy to snuggle and listen or leave or…”
In his head, this went smoother. But this is somehow…better? More honest, at least. Their fingertips trace tepid lines up each other’s forearms. A tickling, sensual gesture that makes his breath hitch.
“That’s very kind of you,” says Dario, cupping his hands around Charlie’s wrists.
“My grandma always says, ‘Kindness is key,’” Charlie says, then cringes. “I can’t believe I just brought up my grandma. There’s nothing more unsexy than somebody’s grandma.”
“I’m sure your grandma was very sexy in her day,” Dario says without thought. Charlie gapes at him. “I made it so much worse, didn’t I?”
“So, so much worse!” Charlie shakes his head as his incredulous smile blooms.
“The moment is gone,” Dario says ruefully.
“We can get it back. Let’s try to get it back,” Charlie says, remaining positive. He didn’t break out his manscaper for nothing.
“How should we do that?” Dario asks, sounding as if he would go to the ends of the earth if that’s what Charlie told him it took. But he’s not here to make Dario work for it. He’s here to make Dario feel good, valued. To build him back up after Selina’s dressing-down.
“What if we listed things about each other that turn us on?” Charlie asks. Talking about sex always ratchets up his desire in any given situation. “You go first.”
Dario laughs awkwardly. “Putting the pressure on me here.”
“You’re the one who said my grandma was very sexy in her day without any photographic evidence!” Charlie points out.
“Would photographic evidence have made itbetter?” Dario asks with raised eyebrows. A laugh blasts out of him. “You’re the one who brought up your grandma in the first place!”
“Okay,” Charlie concedes through a fit of his own laughs. “We’re getting nowhere. I’ll go first. Your eyes.” He takes a calming breath and really looks at Dario. “God, your eyes are sexy. So open and searching. You have these big, basset hound eyes.”
“First grandmas, and now dogs?” Dario cries. Charlie drops his face into his hands. “Speaking of dogs. Angelo, vai a giocare in giardino.”
Angelo trots from his bed and out through the doggy door. His tinyarfspuncture the night.
The sultry darkness swells in through the half-open windows. They laugh again. Stilted and uncertain.
“I’ll also see myself out through the doggie door,” Charlie jokes. He’s no more than two steps away from the door when Dario grabs him by the forearm and reels him back in.
“You will do no such thing.” His palms graze Charlie’s cheeks before he pulls him in by the back of the neck and kisses him.
The kiss is so spectacular that it ruins Charlie for all future kisses. What other experience could ever compare to kissing Dario Cotogna in his bedroom in his historic Italian villa?
This is Charlie’s pinnacle. He’s lightheaded as he finds himself at this unexpected romantic summit.
They topple onto the bed together. “Aside from my basset hound eyes,” Dario says teasingly, “what else about me do you find sexy?”
“Your hair,” Charlie says as he rakes a hand through the glossy strands. Charlie imagines what the top of Dario’s head might look like while his face is buried between his thighs. “It frames your handsome face so well.”
