Ody stilled, staring at him. “Mano… you’re drunk.”
The tattooed hand around his throat tightened just enough to make Ody’s breath catch. “I said strip,” he said, his voice low. “Do as I say. Now.”
Heat rushed up Ody’s neck, his fingers curling loosely around Mano’s wrist. “Not so tight,” he rasped.
Mano’s grip loosened slightly, but his gaze stayed dark. “What was it you said earlier?” he sneered. “That I can’t fuck? You want me to show you I can fuck?”
Ody’s breath quickened, his lips parting.
Mano’s gaze dropped between them, burning. “When you run your mouth like that, you better have the balls to back it up. You said I moan like a bitch,” he went on. “Let’s see who sounds like a bitch now.”
A shiver ran through Ody as Mano stared down at him.
Mano grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him. “Didn’t you say I turn you on?” His thumb brushed slowly across Ody’s lower lip. “Huh, mikre?” he murmured. “Isn’t that what you said?”
Ody’s eyes fluttered shut for a second. A shaky breath slipped past his lips as heat curled low in his stomach. God, hearing Mano say things like that so openly was wrecking him. “Mano, you’re drunk,” he whispered, finally forcing himself to look at him again. “Please. Not now.” He pushed weakly against him. “I don’t want you to forget this.”
He wanted Mano fully aware of what they were doing. And that was the problem. He had never felt Mano want him more openly than tonight, his usual defenses blurred by alcohol. Some selfish part of Ody ached to give in to it.
Mano caught his jaw and crushed his mouth against his. Ody almost gave in. Heat rushed through him, dizzying and overwhelming. But he forced himself to think past it.
Mano’s weight shifted clumsily for a second. Ody took the opening, twisting out from under him and pushing himself off the bed. His feet hit the floor as he stepped back, watching Mano.
“It can’t happen like this,” he said, his breath uneven. “It’s so hard for me to resist you, but this is wrong. You need to rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Before Mano could answer, Ody rushed out of the room.
Mano slumped back on the bed, his gaze lost in the empty space ahead. For a long moment he didn’t move. Then a sudden wave of nausea twisted his stomach. “Shit…”
He stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it before dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. His body heaved as he threw up, the bitter taste burning his throat. When it finally stopped, he stayed there for a moment, breathing hard with one hand braced against the wall. His head throbbed, and his mouth tasted like acid.
Slowly, he pushed himself up and rinsed his mouth at the sink. The mirror caught his reflection. Flushed face. Glassy eyes. Hair a mess. He looked wrecked.
Fragments of the night flickered through his mind. Ody beneath him. His hand around Ody’s throat.“Not so tight.”
Mano went still. The memory hit him like a punch. He walked back into the room slowly, like the air had turned heavy around him. That was when the full weight of it settled in. How forceful he had been. How hard Ody had tried to stop things before they went further.
He sank down onto the floor beside the bed and buried his face in his hands. “What the fuck is wrong with me…”
Ody grabbed his phone and texted Anna.I think I’ll stay at the hotel tonight. I can’t keep going back and forth. Besides, we have a long drive tomorrow and I need some rest
Anna: Is everything okay with Mano?
Odysseus: All good don’t worry. Just enjoy yourself
Okay. Get some rest
He set the phone aside and pulled the sheet over himself, staring at the ceiling as Mano’s face kept flashing through his mind.
The last morning on the island arrived with blaring alarms.
Mano’s head felt like stone when he opened his eyes, but at least he was sober now.
“Mano, you good, man? You were wasted last night,” Antony said when they met at breakfast.
Mano glanced at Ody who kept his head down, focused on his plate.
“I’m fine,” he said, heading to the buffet.
