Hank slid his key card into the lock, stepped inside the small room, and closed the door. The room had a single large bed. Hank turned on the bathroom light so he didn’t wake Grant, but found him most definitely awake, lying on his back, naked as the day he was born.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t take too long.”

  Hank swallowed hard when Grant slid two fingers down the ridge of his shaft, half smiling up at him. “I didn’t know if you would be too tired.”

  “I’m definitely not too tired for you.” Grant shifted partly onto his side, his cock draping along his hip. That was a sight worthy of a poem, or if nothing else, one of those Renaissance paintings they had seen so many of. At least, that was Hank’s opinion.

  “Are you going to take it all off for me?” Grant’s eyes twinkled in the reflected light, and then he shifted, rolling onto his belly, lying across the bed, watching him. “I’m waiting.”

  Hank kicked off his shoes and pulled at his socks, because there was nothing sexy in getting those off, so he wanted it over and done. Then he unbuttoned his shirt while Grant hummed a rhythmic beat. Hank gyrated his hips, and Grant groaned softly.

  Button after button, Hank popped his shirt farther open, parting the fabric and giving Grant a view of his chest. He slid a hand over a nipple, pinching it slightly, and was rewarded when Grant’s breath hitched. “You like that? Want me to do that to you? Give you a little zing with your pleasure?” He leaned down, cupped Grant’s chin in his hand, and kissed him hard, taking possession of his luscious lips, then backed away, slipping off the shirt.

  Grant grabbed Hank’s belt, tugging him closer. “I think I can take things from here.” His upward gaze met Hank’s, and Hank’s heart skipped a beat. Those beautiful eyes pulled him in, taking his breath away. Hank didn’t move as Grant opened his belt, popped the button on his shorts, and let them slide down his legs.

  Hank’s legs shook as Grant teased him, running his palm over the ridge in his black briefs. Jesus, he wasn’t going to be able to take much of that. “Grant….” His eyes rolled back into his head, and his breathing hitched to the point that he nearly coughed.

  Grant’s chuckles turned to hums as he slid the fabric around Hank’s hips lower. When Hank sprang loose, Grant slipped his incredible lips around his length, taking him deeper by the second. Hank was almost instantly on the edge. He hadn’t been this quick to go off since he was a teenager, and damn it all, he had no intention of reliving those angst-ridden years, no matter what.

  Hank pushed those unsexy thoughts away and lifted his eyes to the ceiling, then back down at Grant. His momentary relief zinged away. Grant lay spread out on the bed, his perfect round bubble butt shining up at him. Damn, the man was gorgeous, slim and sleek, with a slight sheen of sweat glistening on him. Hank rocked slowly, pressure already building, and then he pulled away.

  Grant groaned. “Is something wrong?”

  He leaned closer, meeting Grant’s gaze. “Only that you were so sexy, I was losing control already.” That got a grin from Grant, and he scrambled onto his knees as Hank joined him on the bed.

  “I’m skinny and thin,” Grant argued.

  Hank shook his head. “Sleek and slender, with eyes as blue as the summer sky.” He smiled. “Cute.”

  The last comment earned him a growl.

  Grant scoffed. “Maybe you’re going blind.”

  “And maybe I’m seeing things clearly.” Hank was beginning to think that was truly the case. Maybe he was starting to see that what he needed was someone with a giant heart who looked at him as though he hung the moon. “You do realize that you’re handsome and incredibly attractive.” He gently cradled Grant’s cheeks in his hands. “Just watching you gets me hard, and I have to shift to try to hide it.”

  Grant beamed. “You do things to me no one else has ever done, and you do things for me that I didn’t even let myself dream about.”

  Hank closed the distance between them, kissing Grant and putting everything he felt, everything he was, into it, as he pressed Grant back down onto the bedding. “I want to hold you and stay with you, locking the doors so the rest of the world can’t get at us.”

  “Hank,” Grant whispered, setting off his blush. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “I mean them.” Hank brushed Grant’s hair off his forehead. Part of him felt free, as if a weight had been lifted, and it probably had. Hank didn’t know what he was going to do about the money, but he had something so special to weigh against it that he didn’t take a moment to even think about it. Grant was here with him, and Hank wasn’t going to let exes or debts—or near misses with an old temptation—get in the way.

  Grant writhed under him.

  “Am I too heavy?” Hank asked, but Grant wound his arms around his waist, then slid his hands over Hank’s ass, pressing them more tightly together. He had his answer, and damn it all, Grant plastered them together, his smooth skin luxurious under him. Hank groaned and captured Grant’s lips, energy frizzling between them like their own lightning from the storm of passion that brewed around them.

  “I want you, Hank,” Grant gasped, and Hank pulled back. He hated letting Grant go for a single second, but he needed supplies, and they were in the bathroom. “Just do it, Hank.”

  God, that was so tempting. But he wasn’t going to put Grant in any danger. Hank jumped off the bed and hurried to the bathroom, rummaged in his kit for what he needed, and returned to find Grant on his belly on the bed, butt wriggling back and forth like a metronome. Holy fuck, he was incredible. Hank set the supplies on the side table and prowled onto the bed, sliding up Grant to take all of him in, kissing a trail up his spine until he turned and Hank could meet his sweet lips.

  “Seeing you like this took my breath away.”

  Grant quivered. “Me?”

  There were so many questions that Hank wanted to ask Grant about how Timothy and others had treated him. Grant was sexy as hell, a slender jolt of passion and sex appeal, and for him to not know it…. That pissed Hank off, but instead of getting angry, he rolled Grant on the bed, looking down into his eyes. “I want to see you.” He reached to the bedside table, grabbed the slick, and fumbled some on his fingers.

  “Hank,” Grant gasped as he slipped a finger inside his tight heat. He quivered and shook as Hank prepared him, begging until Hank rolled on a condom and got into position, throbbing as he pressed to Grant, his body opening to him. The pressure, scorching heat, and the adoration shining in Grant’s eyes nearly undid him. It took all of Hank’s self-control to hold it together. “Damn, you’re big.”

  “And you’re stunning,” Hank countered, holding still before slowly beginning to move. Their rhythm came together easily, Grant seeming to know what he wanted. Hank listened to Grant’s breathing, letting it tell him all he needed to know: shallow and rapid, hitched and long. He watched Grant’s chest heave as he arched his back.

  “I’m going to come,” Grant whimpered, and Hank snapped his hips as Grant’s hand slid up and down his long, slender shaft, eyes rolling, mouth hanging open until he stilled, body clenching, sending Hank into trembling ecstasy as they held each other through the throes of passion.

  Grant sighed, and they didn’t move as the warmth and pleasure of afterglow washed over both of them. Hank always liked the closeness, but with Grant it was extra special. He treasured each moment as they lay in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Nine—Danger Comes Courting

  VENICE WAS gorgeous and equally as impressive as Florence, only for different reasons. The Doge’s Palace was just as breathtaking as what they’d seen in Florence. Whereas Florence was the birthplace of the Renaissance, Venice was a hub of trade and commerce, so the city had influences from all over the world.

  What surprised Grant was how tiring being a tourist could be. They’d been going for well over a week, and if he went to another museum or saw another palace or church, he was going to scream. What he needed was some time to relax, sit, and maybe people watch.

  “Do you think we can do something alone, just the two of us, today?” he asked Hank before they went down to breakfast.

  “I was going to ask the same thing,” Hank said as he pulled the door closed, then headed to the stairs. “Zach said he didn’t have anything planned today. And the gondola tours aren’t until this evening, so I don’t think it’s going to be a problem if we go our own way.”

  They joined the others, who were sitting together making plans. It seemed most everyone had the same idea, and once they’d eaten, everyone headed out, separating as they got toward the center of the city.

  “Let’s walk the Giudecca Canal, maybe just do some shopping. I have a few things I want to get,” Grant offered, and Hank easily agreed. The city took Grant’s breath away, and they strolled the walks along the side of the canal, crossing bridges and exploring side streets as the notion took them.

  “I’m trying to remember the last time I was with someone and didn’t have to work to keep a conversation going.” Hank smiled, and Grant knew immediately what he meant.

  “It’s exhausting trying to come up with topics to talk about all the time.” He bumped Hank’s shoulder. “I love just standing here, looking out over the lagoon.” He didn’t feel as though he needed to comment on everything or fill the silences with endless chatter. It didn’t matter. He was here with Hank, and he enjoyed his company. That was more than enough for him.

  “We could get lunch and not discuss it,” Hank quipped, and Grant took his arm, letting Hank lead him wherever he wanted to go.

  Lunch was simple and grand at the same time. Then they shopped and laughed over the silly souvenirs, wondering who would buy a bottle opener shaped like the Colosseum… in Rome, let alone in Venice.

  In the afternoon, they stopped for gelato, and damn it all if Jarrod didn’t appear out of fucking nowhere, standing in line right behind them.

  “So, you’re back?” Grant asked, putting the plan they’d talked about on the train into play. “Do you always turn up to bother people who don’t like you?” Jarrod’s eyebrows rose, and Grant spoke louder. “Go on, get what you want, but leave us alone.” Everyone in the shop turned to look at Grant. He was determined not to get embarrassed and got strength when Jarrod started twitching.

  Hank stood next to him. “You’re a stalker, and I think you need to leave.” He took Grant’s arm. “You’ve harassed us from Rome to Florence, and now here. Go away.”

  “Yeah, go away,” a customer said from inside the shop. Jarrod hadn’t even made it to the counter, and he was already heading for the door.

  “I can’t believe it. You actually followed us?” Bull said from outside, his voice booming.

  “Should we call the police?” another customer said, waving his cell phone.

  Jarrod blanched and took off.

  Bull watched him from outside with a smile. “He’s gone,” he explained, and half the people in the shop began clapping. Grant almost felt sorry for the guy. Then again, maybe he didn’t. He had to admit, it felt good. Jarrod was gone, running away like a scared rabbit. That made him a little giddy.

  “It’s all right. I don’t think he’s going to be back,” Grant said to the people in the shop, thanking them for their help. Then he ordered his gelato and took it outside, where Bull and Zach joined them to enjoy their well-deserved treat. “How did you know where we were?”

  Bull laughed. “Hank texted, and we were just a block away. Zach and I hurried over in time to see you stage a revolt. That was a thing of utter beauty.” He took a dish of what looked like mango. “Spook is following him. I think it’s time we get this man out of our hair once and for all.”

  “How do we do that?” Hank asked as they walked toward the canal.

  “I’m not sure. But when Spook returns, we’ll all sit down and put our heads together. He needs to crawl back under his rock so we can go back to our trip and our lives.” Bull’s eyes burned. “The life I led, the one where our paths originally crossed, was a long time ago. But it seems my past keeps rearing its ugly head.”

  Grant wanted to offer words of comfort, but he didn’t know what to say.

  It was Zach who hugged him. “You know that I knew of your past when I said I loved you. I love you still. So let’s put this chapter to bed.”

  “But it’s my fault, and you all know it,” Bull said. Grant had never seen him down like this.

  “You have to remember that it was your past that brought you and Harry together, and in a strange way, also brought Spook into our lives,” Zach consoled. “All of that led to the club, which brought Angus, Hank, and Grant into our lives. We have what we have because of your past. So we’ll deal with the shit parts of it and be grateful for the good things it’s brought us, and move on.”

  Damn, Zach was something else. He met Bull’s gaze. “And for the record, sweetheart, don’t do that angsty shit—it doesn’t become you. I’m the drama queen, you’re the big, tall, stoic one… and things need to stay that way.” He smiled, and Bull finally did too.

  At least the planets have returned to their orbits and all is right with the world, Grant thought. Because an angsty Bull was scary as shit, no two ways about it.

  THE FOUR of them spent the rest of the afternoon together, but the talk that Bull hoped to make happen didn’t materialize the way he thought. Spook didn’t return until it was time for them to head out for the gondola rides along the canals.

  “We can all discuss it once we get back,” Zach had told Bull as the group gathered in the hotel before walking through the city to the docks.

  Somehow Grant had expected the gondolier to sing as they went, but he talked very little, only pointing out the sights as Grant sat next to Hank, the boat gliding along the canal, rocking gently as it passed under the Rialto Bridge. Few things had struck him as this classic and romantic. Couples had been taking this ride together for centuries, spending the time alone in the middle of the bustling city. He sighed and leaned against Hank’s shoulder, turning to make sure the gondolier wasn’t mad or something. Instead, he received a wink before the man turned away, guiding the boat from his standing position.

  “Did you know that the keel of the boat is off-center? That allows him to stand on one side and the boat to still go straight,” Hank said.

  “Useless trivia is my department,” Grant teased, and stroked Hank’s cheek, cutting off whatever else he was going to say by kissing him. Hank pulled him closer, and they continued their ride in silence, the world and their concerns at bay for a little while.

  “Grant,” Hank whispered as they rocked in the center of the Grand Canal. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Grant sighed and smiled, meeting Hank’s gaze. “Good.” He kissed him again as they glided slowly through the water, Grant’s heart beating faster by the second. “Because you’re not alone.” He held on to Hank, content as he could ever remember being at how right this felt.

  The gondola glided into its berth a few minutes later. Grant rose and stepped off as the sun sank just behind the city, painting the sky a blazing orange that seemed to set it on fire. Maybe the sky had decided to echo his feelings as Hank took his hand, leading him up to the walkway where they stood alone, even surrounded by a crowd of people.

  “The others should be here pretty soon,” Hank said. Not that Grant was in any hurry to move.

  He nodded. “I’m glad we did this… all of it.” He turned to Hank. “The trip, the drama, even Jarrod and his stupidity are all worth it… for this. For you.” Grant didn’t move, soaking himself in happiness. “Damn….” He whispered a few seconds later.

  “What?”

  “I need to find a bathroom.” Now that was one way to break a romantic mood. Stupid bladder. “We passed a place as we were coming here.” Grant reluctantly stepped away. “You watch for the rest of the guys. I’ll be right back.” He hurried along the street, but turned when he heard footsteps behind him. Hank was following him.

  “We need to stick together.”

  Grant stopped a few seconds later when he realized that Hank’s footsteps were no longer right behind him. When he turned to check, Hank was nowhere to be seen. He retraced his last few steps and saw Hank lying in the alley.

  “That’s a very good idea,” Jarrod said from next to him as he grabbed Grant’s arm, placing a cloth over his mouth.

  Grant tried to protest as the world went dark. The last thing he remembered was cobblestones digging into his side and back as he tried to get to Hank….

  Then nothing.

  “WHAT DID you do to him?” Hank’s voice cut through the haze that enveloped Grant’s mind. He tried to push the haze away. “He better be okay, or so help me God, I will hunt you down and rip your goddamned nuts off.”

  “Okay, tough guy, he’s going to be fine. He got a bigger dose than you did.” Jarrod sounded so reassuring to Grant’s scrambled brain. “Calm down and sit still. I’m not going to hurt either one of you. I don’t have to. I just have to make Bull think I will. Then he’ll come running and give me what I want. He’s such a hero.”

  Grant cracked his eyes open. He was lying on the floor in a dilapidated room with plaster chunks taken out of the walls. It smelled like dampness and mold. He needed to cough, but held it in and closed his eyes again, not wanting to let Jarrod know he was awake. Maybe if he came to enough, he could do something to help Hank get out of here.

  “Bull isn’t going to give you anything,” Hank countered.

  “He’d better,” Jarrod snapped, and pulled Grant’s arm. “You can stop playing possum—I know you’re awake. Get up and sit your ass in the chair. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

  Grant stumbled as Jarrod pushed him into the chair. “Aren’t you going to tie my hands or something?” Grant croaked, his throat dry and scratchy.

  “Why? Like either of you is going to try anything. If you do, I’ll simply break the other one’s neck and that will be the end of that.” He made a twisting motion with his hands. “I’ve done it before, so just sit there and don’t move.” He said the words in the same tone he might have used to give someone directions, as though they meant nothing at all.