Just a Bit Bossy by Alessandra Hazard
Chapter 21
But as all things, their stay in Italy came to an end.
That night, as they lay in the bed, exhausted and sated after their last round of sex, Raffaele broke the companionable silence. “I’ve booked our tickets back. The plane leaves tomorrow morning.”
Nate opened his eyes and digested that for a few moments, his damp cheek pressed against Raffaele’s chest. He kind of felt gross and sticky, but he felt too lazy to get up and take a shower. To his surprise, Raffaele wasn’t pushing him away. It was a little weird. Nate knew how sensitive his boss was to smells, and yet… Raffaele seemed perfectly content to put up with Nate’s sweaty body sprawled on top of him.
“I didn’t know you knew how to book tickets,” Nate said at last. “Isn’t that your assistant’s job?”
“I’m capable of booking a few tickets,” Raffaele said, very dryly.
“So the trip was a success?” Nate said, his fingers playing with the black hairs on Raffaele’s leg.
“We did strike a deal beneficial for the Caldwell Group.”
Nate smacked him on the thigh. “Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean.”
“The trip was a success on both counts,” Raffaele said, sighing. “My father agreed to leave Demidov alone… after some concessions from the Russian.”
Nate didn’t even want to know. It would probably be better if he didn’t ask, actually.
“I guess it wasn’t for nothing, then.”
Raffaele threaded his fingers through Nate’s hair in an absentminded manner and just hummed, sounding half-asleep already.
Nate absolutely detested how much he loved this, how much he loved being curled up against Raffaele’s firm body and just… existing beside him. This intimate, companionable air between them scared him much more than the way he was hopelessly addicted to the sex. Sex was just sex. This feeling of blissed-out contentment was far more dangerous.
What were they doing? What was this?
His anxiety rising, Nate chewed on his lip, looking at the other man. Raffaele had his eyes closed, his breathing steady. But Nate knew he wasn’t actually asleep yet.
“I can practically hear you think,” Raffaele said, without opening his eyes.
“What’s going to happen when we get back?” Nate said, propping himself on his elbow.
Dark eyelashes fluttered open. Black eyes stared at him with an inscrutable expression. “Try to be a little more specific.”
Nate pursed his lips, frustrated that he even had to explain this. “What happens in Italy, stays in Italy and all that?” He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question. It wasn’t a question. It couldn’t be a question.
Raffaele’s face was unreadable. After a moment, he said, “It’s probably for the best. You’re already cuddly and needy. I don’t want you to get ideas that this is a relationship.”
Nate flushed, pulling away as if burned. Cuddly? Needy? “Fuck you—I’m not an idiot.”
“Hm,” Raffaele said, closing his eyes again.
Nate glared at him, so damn annoyed he didn’t know what to do with it. “God, you’re such an ass! I hate everything about you. I wouldn’t want a relationship with you even if you were the last person on Earth!”
A muscle jumped in Raffaele’s cheek. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, without opening his eyes. “Be quiet now. We have an early flight tomorrow.”
Scowling, Nate turned the bedside lamp off and lay down as far from his dick of a boss as it was possible to do.
Neither of them said goodnight.
***
Nate was kind of surprised Luke and Demidov had bothered to get up so early to see them off. Luke was still yawning, and there was a pillow crease on Demidov’s face that gave him a more approachable look. He looked like a normal human being for once.
“Thanks for your help,” Luke said, shaking Raffaele’s hand. “We really appreciate it.”
Raffaele just nodded and laid his hand on Nate’s nape. “Into the car,” he commanded, clearly wanting to exchange a few words with Demidov without him present.
Keeping his face blank, Nate waved awkwardly at Luke and strode toward the car. The bodyguards were putting their baggage into it. He muttered, “Good morning” and received a laconic “Buongiorno” in response. It was still more conversation than he’d gotten from Raf—Ferrara this morning. Ferrara. He had to go back to thinking of him as Ferrara. His boss. And nothing else.
He got into the car and watched Ferrara shake Demidov’s hand. Then Ferrara was heading to the car, his expression somewhat thoughtful. Nate dragged his gaze away and looked back at the couple. Luke waved, smiling at him and mouthing “Text me,” his curly head on Demidov’s shoulder. The Russian wrapped his arm around his lover’s waist and held him close.
Nate felt a pang of wistfulness. Or maybe envy. He wanted to find someone who would look at him the way Demidov looked at Luke—as if he were the most important thing in the world. He wondered if they’d get married. Probably.
Ferrara opened the door and got into the car, and Nate’s whole focus snapped back to him.
Pursing his lips, he pulled his phone out and fixed his gaze on it, as if every cell of his body wasn’t hyperaware of the man beside him.
“Milano,” Ferrara told the driver, without even glancing at him.
Nate sighed inwardly.
It was going to be a long flight.
***
Thirteen hours later, Nate finally crawled into his bed, nearly groaning from how amazing it felt. Even a first class seat was nowhere near as comfy as his own bed. The angry tension between him and his boss hadn’t exactly helped him relax, either.
“You’re finally back!” Maya said, plopping down on his bed next to him. “How was Italy?”
“I posted pics on my Instagram,” Nate grumbled.
“Just on the first day, and then nothing.”
Yeah, because I was too busy sucking my boss’s face and spreading my legs for him, Nate thought glumly.
“Okay, what happened? I know you. Spill.”
Nate sighed, but there was no point in trying to hide it. His sister knew him too well. “I had sex with him.”
The resulting silence was deafening.
“You did what?” Maya half-shouted, half-shrilled. “Like, buttsex?”
Nate buried his face deeper into his pillow, his skin burning with embarrassment. “Yes.”
“Did you like it?” Maya sounded curious. “Getting fucked? Was it weird?”
“Why do you assume I was the one who took it up the ass? Maybe I fucked him.”
Maya laughed. “Sorry, but from everything you told me about him, he sounds like such a top. Though maybe he’s versatile. Is he?”
“No,” Nate grumbled. He was annoyed that the idea of fucking Raffaele hadn’t even occurred to him—he just hadn’t wanted that, too addicted to getting fucked.
“He didn’t force you, right?” Maya said, her voice losing all humor.
Nate nearly laughed, wondering what she would say if she knew how eager Nate had been to get a dick into him. “He didn’t. I told you he’s not like that.”
“So did you like it?” she pressed.
He groaned, knowing that she wouldn’t leave him alone until he told her. “It was fine.”
“Fine? Come on, you can do better than that.”
“What do you want me to say?” Nate snapped, his pent-up frustration finally bursting out. “That I loved it? I loved it so much that we fucked all the time while we were there?”
Maya was quiet for a while.
Nate was glad he couldn’t see her face. Christ, this was so mortifying.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dumbass,” she said at last.
“Easy for you to say.”
“I don’t really see a problem,” she said. “So you like fucking guys. Big deal. I’m sure Mom and Dad won’t care if you tell them you’re bi.”
Nate opened his mouth and closed it, unable to say it. How could he tell his sister that he wasn’t even sure that he was bi? That he couldn’t imagine allowing some other guy to fuck him in the ass—being eager for it? The mere idea just seemed… strange. Wrong.
He tried not to think about what it meant.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nate muttered. “We decided that what happened in Italy stays in Italy.” Raffaele Ferrara was just his boss. Nate was his personal assistant. Nothing more. Nate would go back to running errands for him, while Raffaele would go back to fucking his booty calls.
His stomach tied up into a knot, and Nate bit the inside of his cheek, hard.
It was fine. Totally fine.
He could do it.
He wasn’t needy, thank you very much.