Page 18 of Confession (Constantine Brothers #2)

FIFTEEN

Vitali

“You’re in a good mood,” Sasha comments as she hands me a fresh beer from the cooler.

I crack it open and settle back in my poolside lounge chair. “Why shouldn’t I be in a good mood on a beautiful June day?”

In her yellow bikini, a shocking contrast to her usual black, Sasha plops into the chair beside me, crossing her feet at the ankles. She sips her vitamin water and, like me, pretends there isn’t a lot of shit going on just outside this bubble we’ve made for the afternoon.

It feels so damn good to be out here on the back patio. Lucas is swimming, kind of playing, like the kid I suspect he never really got to be. Roman is sitting at the edge of the pool watching him. Quinn, wearing indecently short green trunks, is turning burgers on the grill.

It is, mostly, an idyllic scene, and I’m trying to appreciate the fact that the pool is in use for the first time in years and there’s something like a family gathered around it. The sun feels good on my bare skin, my beer is cold and hoppy, and the smells from the grill are mouthwatering.

But there are a few things that I’m having to pretend don’t bother me.

It’s really fucking hard to see Roman wearing those old blue and red striped trunks that he used to wear all the time and that don’t quite fit him anymore.

He’s big but he’s so damn lean, nothing but sharply delineated muscle under all that scarred skin.

His wrists and ankles. All over his torso and arms. His legs too.

And it’s not just the physical changes. It’s the way he sits, so fucking still and silent, watching Lucas in a way that would freak most people out, though Lucas seems unbothered by it.

He swims over to Roman from time to time and puts his hands on Roman’s knees. Sometimes Lucas says something, sometimes he doesn’t, then he goes swimming away again, doing underwater somersaults and paddling around.

Sasha calls out to Quinn in a heavy, very fake British accent, “What’s happening with them sausages, Charlie?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded, then look to Quinn for his reaction. Completely unfazed, he glances over his shoulder at her and replies, “Two minutes, Turkish.”

Sasha grins.

“What is happening?” I ask.

“Oh, come on,” Sasha says, “you’ve seen Snatch .”

“Years ago.”

“Ugh, Vitali, you need to watch it again.”

“Do you and Quinn watch movies together?”

“Occasionally. Why? You jealous?”

I glare at her.

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows, Vitali.”

“Well, that’s fine. But I’m not jealous. I was just curious. Where do you watch?”

“My room. He doesn’t have a TV.”

“Hm.”

Sasha gives me a pointed look as she sips her vitamin water. I am jealous and she knows it, and she wants me to know that she knows it.

“You’re an asshole,” I tell her without heat.

“I know.” She sets her bottle aside and pops up from the lounge chair. Braid flying, she takes three running steps toward the pool, yells, “Cannonball!” and jumps in, hugging her knees to her chest. She lands in the center of the pool, sending a huge spray of water in every direction.

Lucas laughs while Roman and I both make futile attempts to shield ourselves.

“Ugh!” I shout, taking off my water-spotted sunglasses and mopping my face with a nearby towel.

Quinn, who was outside the blast range, is shaking with poorly suppressed laughter. I get up from my chair and walk over to him.

“You think that’s funny?” I whisper behind him.

“Mm-hm.”

“These shorts are very short. I can almost see your ass.”

“Hey,” he complains, pulling away from my hand. “I’m cooking, they’re not that short, and you’re wearing a speedo. And don’t touch my ass.”

“Why not? Sasha has already informed me that everyone knows.”

He sighs and transfers the burgers to a platter.

“You don’t want people to know?” I ask, not really liking his reaction.

“It was inevitable. Burgers are done.” He hands me a plate.

Sasha saves him from my follow-up questions when she saunters over, dripping all over the place.

“You’re a menace,” I tell her.

“Why, thank you,” she replies as she chooses a burger.

Quinn has walked off to find his phone, checking the security feeds. Lucas comes over, hair slicked back from the water and dripping almost as much as Sasha.

As he starts building three burgers, he asks her, “Do you ever wish there was another woman here?”

Sasha squeezes a horrifying amount of mustard onto her burger. “Not really. I love my boys. Though I’m a little bit worried that Vitali might not let Quinn watch movies and cuddle with me anymore.”

“ Cuddle? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s very innocent,” she claims.

Quinn comes back from checking his phone. He gives me a wary look, clearly sensing trouble even though he didn’t hear what Sasha said. “What?”

“We’ll discuss it later,” I grumble and snatch a bun from the bag.

Lucas finishes putting his plate together and goes to sit with Roman, who watched the whole time but never came over here. At least he’s relaxed enough to allow Lucas around other people. There was a time when he wouldn’t even let Lucas out of their room.

When I return to my lounge chair with my plate, I sit on it sideways, leaving room for Quinn. He hesitates then sits beside me. When I let my knee touch his, he allows it.

“These are good,” I say around a mouthful.

“Mm,” Sasha agrees from her own lounge chair.

I hand Quinn my beer. Yes, I’m giving him lots of little tests. I think he knows it too.

He sighs and takes the beer.

I want to put my hand on his thigh, but I hold myself back. I’m already pushing his boundaries enough. For now.

***

“What’s with the quilt?” Quinn asks, staring at the bed as we enter my room from the balcony after cleaning up the pool area.

I have an old quilt laid out over top of my bed. It does look kind of funny.

“I knew you were going to get sunburned.”

“What does that have to do with anything? And I’m not sunburned.”

I press my finger against his stomach to show how his skin pales then turns red at the spot.

“Just barely,” Quinn argues, clearly annoyed. “It’ll be gone in the morning.”

“Are you Irish?”

“Oh, who the hell knows. Not everyone has a grand family history, Vitali.”

“Some people look down on mixed Greek and Italian heritage, you know.”

“Yes, there are snobs at every level.”

“You know, you have a lot more of a mouth on you than was once apparent.”

“I think you like it,” Quinn says distractedly as I push his shorts down. He steps out of them.

“I think I do. Get on the bed.” I smack his ass.

“What’s going on? You prepared this.”

“It’s just a quilt.” I nudge him forward as I strip off my speedo. It’s not just a quilt. It’s also oil and some candles.

I manage to get him onto the bed. Then, not trusting him to stay, I hook my legs around his torso while I lean over to the bedside table and light the candles.

“You’re being so weird,” he says, but his hand smooths its way up my side.

“Yeah, well.”

I’m actually a bit embarrassed because I’ve never done anything like this before, but I power through it. I want to do this.

I turn off the lamp, leaving us with only the candlelight and the day fading outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Lie down,” I tell him as I sit up.

“What are you doing?” He’s so damn wary.

“You’ll figure it out.”

As he settles back, I straddle his hips and grab the oil. I squirt a little on his stomach. His muscles contract.

“Cold?” I ask.

“I just wasn’t ready for it.”

I start smoothing the oil over his skin. Like me, he’s already a little bit aroused, but I enjoy watching his cock get harder as I slick the oil all over him. He grunts when I start massaging him.

I knead the dense muscle of his pectorals. My cock bumps against his as I work.

His eyes are still wary. He’s tense. Something about this is hard for him. I want to ask, but I don’t think I’d get a real answer.

I start massaging his shoulder around the fresh bullet scar. I frown when the muscles spasm.

“Does this still hurt?” I ask.

“It’s a work in progress, but it’s fine.”

When I massage his throat, he relaxes. I work on his chest again. I’m doing this partly for him because I want him to relax and let me take care of him, but I also enjoy the chance to so methodically touch and look at his body. He really is beautiful.

But he’s been hurt a lot. Fights. Abuse.

I work on the muscle of his abdomen. He flinches as I find tight spots.

“Jesus,” he grunts.

“Just breathe.”

“What did you want to discuss?” he asks me. “You and Sasha were talking.”

“Are you actually volunteering to discuss something?”

“Don’t be a dick. You two made me nervous.”

I pause my work, sitting back a little. “She said you two watch movies together sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“And cuddle.”

He huffs and looks embarrassed. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

“What would you call it?”

He sighs. “Sometimes I put my arm around her and she leans into me. It’s …” He shrugs.

“It’s what?”

“It’s nice , okay?”

I frown.

“Vitali, I’m gay and she’s asexual.” He stalls. “You do know that, right? About Sasha? She’s not private about it, so you must know.”

“Yeah, kinda. It’s not something I really understand. I know she doesn’t care about dating.”

“Well, maybe you should do some research because it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“Or you could tell me.”

“I could tell you about Sasha , but that’s just her, everyone’s different.”

“So tell me.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“ She’s the one who told me you guys cuddle.”

“Okay, true. It’s just that … sometimes people get lonely, Vitali. That’s really all there is to it.”

I nod, thinking, and start massaging him again. I know the conversation stressed him because his erection eased, so I don’t ask him anything more. I can read between the lines.

Sasha isn’t the only one who’s sometimes been lonely. Quinn has too.

Why didn’t I see him earlier? It’s so obvious to me now. I don’t understand.

I scoot down so I can massage his thighs. God, he has great legs. As I work on the heavy muscle, he grunts.