He let his hand rest between Dante’s legs, just wanting to touch him. Getting the remnants of their sex on his hand and not caring.

  “What is it about you?” Dante asked.

  Ben didn’t answer. He didn’t know. Just like he didn’t know what it was about Dante either.

  “I don’t want to fuck up the way I did with him. I don’t want to fuck you up the way I screwed Abel up even more than he already was.”

  Was that why he didn’t want to have sex with Ben today? That didn’t make sense.

  “You make me want to lose it—the blindfold. You make me want to see you. Hell, sometimes I think I already do, regardless.”

  There was nothing to think about. “I see you too,” was all Ben said. Because he did. He saw Dante, the same way Dante saw him.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Ben was in his apartment a few days later when his phone rang. He considered not answering his mother’s call but eventually did.

  “I see you’re over the broken heart again. It’s incredible how easily it heals when it comes to Dad. Not me though. Or Bonnie either.”

  “Benjamin, I didn’t call to argue with you.”

  No, of course not. “What do you need? That’s when you call, right? When he hurts you, I screw up, or he wants me to do something for him. Which is it?”

  His mom sighed. “We’re having a party in a few days. It’s for a good cause, Ben. Your father really wants to do his part, especially after what happened with you. It’s important that we work toward cleaning up the city, all the violence. It’s to help violence against women as well. It would be nice if you could show your support there.”

  “It would look good for him? Is that what you mean?” That’s what it was always about. His dad didn’t care about violence or women’s rights and safety unless it helped him get where he wanted to go. “What does he have planned? How does this help his political career?”

  “That’s not fair. He’s your father. He’s doing a good thing.”

  “He’s doing it for himself!” There wasn’t a doubt in Ben’s mind about that.

  “Please, just go. It’s for your family. “

  Family? “He should have stuck up for Bonnie this way before she died. Only he pushed her problems under the rug instead. She was an embarrassment to him.”

  The same way Ben was. Or the way he would be if he didn’t hide their dirty laundry for his father the same way his mother did.

  “Ben.”

  “I’ll go.” He hung up the phone. He didn’t need to know the details.

  Ben made a few phone calls and then ate lunch. Afterward, he picked up his cell again, this time calling Dante.

  “I’m not getting much work done since I met you,” Dante said instead of hello.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Funny. Not all of us have the same means as you do.”

  Ben didn’t give a shit about the money. Not really. He didn’t take any from his father. What he had, he’d earned himself. Still, he had more than most. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Do I need to let you go?”

  Dante chuckled. “No. I can work later.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I would think you wanted to talk to me,” Ben teased. It was always such fragile ground between them. They admitted things, and then pulled back. It was the first time in his life he felt insecure with someone, the first time he didn’t know how to act.

  “And?”

  Well shit. Ben didn’t expect him to admit it. He wasn’t even sure Dante felt it, but then, that was a lie. “Yeah...me too. Does that mean you’ll go with me to a party my mother asked me to attend?”

  Dante sucked in a noticeable breath. “Ben...”

  “I know.” This was a big step. He couldn’t believe he was asking but then, his father wanted Ben to go, and Ben wanted Dante there.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll need a tux.” He wouldn’t insult Dante by telling Dante that Ben would buy one for him. “I have one you could borrow if you’d like.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” A pause, and then, “What are we doing here?”

  Ben shook his head. Hell if he knew. He just knew he liked being around Dante. Liked talking with him. “Playing it by ear.”

  “When?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  “I’ll probably be fairly busy until then.”

  A heavy load of guilt weighed down Ben’s gut, though he wasn’t sure exactly why.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Ben breathed.

  Then Dante.

  Ben again. “Thank you. For this and the other night as well.”

  It was a while before Dante spoke. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. Remember that. I’ve always been selfish that way.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “Wow...” Desire stirred in Ben’s gut, and his skin pricked with heat as he took in the sight of Dante standing in his doorway. The man was always gorgeous, dark and seductive but seeing him in the sleek, black suit turned Ben inside out.

  He wanted him. Ben always did but in this moment, the feeling was amplified.

  “You like what you see.” Dante said simply.

  Ben nodded.

  “That’s good because I do as well.” Dante grabbed ahold of Ben’s tie. “I’d like to use this one on you.”

  “On my eyes or my wrists?” Ben regretted the question instantly. It shouldn’t matter. Dante had his limits the same way Ben did. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t believe he said that.

  “You’re jealous.” There was almost the sound of awe in Dante’s voice. As though that would surprise him and not anger him the way it should. Feeling it annoyed the fuck out of Ben.

  “And you weren’t when Tristan came to town and you asked if I fucked him?”

  “I never said I wasn’t. I felt it more than I should. I still do because you get a look in your eyes when you mention his name.”

  Ben wasn’t surprised by that. No, the last time he saw Tristan, he hadn’t wanted him the way he usually did but that didn’t mean it all went away. He wasn’t sure if something like that ever completely went away. “I see the same look in you when you mention Abel.”

  “Kiss me,” Dante said instead of a reply. He leaned in and the second their lips touched, Dante took over. His tongue traced every millimeter in Ben’s mouth. He sucked Ben’s lip, nipped it with his teeth, before diving in to possess him again.

  Ben matched each movement, showed his hunger just as strongly because he knew what this was. They both had their pasts and people who might always hold a little piece of them but it didn’t mean they didn’t want each other. They were both better at showing than telling.

  Ben pulled away. “The car’s waiting.”

  Dante frowned but Ben just stepped out of the way so they could leave. It wasn’t until they got to the sidewalk with the limo at the curb that Dante grabbed his arm. “Really?”

  “It’s expected.” Ben shrugged because what else could he say? Dante shook his head and then let go of Ben’s arm as the chauffeur opened the door for them.

  When they were in the vehicle and it started to move, Dante asked, “Is this you? Do you feel comfortable riding around like this?”

  As much time as they spent together, Dante had never been to Ben’s apartment. He didn’t know the lifestyle Ben was raised in. Yes, he’d told Dante who his father was and Dante knew what Ben did for a living but sometimes those things didn’t really sink in.

  “I neither like it nor dislike it. It is what it is. I feel as comfortable here as I do on the subway. I’m used to both, but no, I don’t typically ride around like this.”

  That answer seemed to satisfy Dante.

  Ben poured them a drink. The closer they got, the more his head started to spin out of control—being around his parents, knowing what this whole thing was to his father. He would use Ben tonight, use what happened with Javier.

  And he would probably use Bonnie too.

  “I love you, Benny.”

  “Hey.”

  Ben opened his eyes, not aware when he’d closed them. They automatically landed on Dante.

  Dante cocked his head slightly, as though he wasn’t sure what he’d planned to say. “The way you look at me...” He brushed his thumb against Ben’s temple. “I see it, when you look like you can’t focus, and then when your eyes land on me, it’s almost like it clears up. Why?” he asked as though he really wanted the answer.

  The truth was, Ben wasn’t surprised by what Dante said. Dante could always tell when Ben was coming unraveled. He had somehow become the light, guiding Ben back to shore. But like Dante, he didn’t know the why of it. “I don’t know.” It was an admission he wouldn’t have made a few weeks ago, that Dante was right yet Ben couldn’t say why.

  “I don’t deserve it, but I like it.” This time, it was Dante admitting something he wouldn’t have before.

  “This night...it won’t be easy for me.”

  Dante’s hand slid down and rested on the back of Ben’s neck. “We have no choice except to keep going.”

  Neither of them did.

  He appreciated the fact that Dante didn’t ask for specifics. Even if he wanted to know or Ben wanted to talk, now wasn’t the time. Not to discuss something that would stress him out. He needed to loosen up, not get lost in the shit that overworked his brain.

  “Tell me about something you enjoy. Not art or fucking, something else. Something I don’t know.”

  He smiled. Dante’s hand still rested on Ben’s neck when he spoke. “I’m a hell of a defense attorney. I win. I’m the best at what I do, and I love almost nothing more than doing it.”

  “You’re used to getting what you want.” Dante cocked a brow at him.

  In his job, Ben was. “Yes. But it doesn’t come without a hell of a lot of work.”

  Dante waited and Ben picked up speaking again, telling Dante about what he did.

  Ben knew exactly what this was. Again, Dante found a way to give him what he needed. He would get Ben’s mind off of all the shit, until he got to the party, where Ben would stir it up again.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Energy thrummed through Ben’s body—nervous energy, excited energy, maybe a little bit of doubt and fear as well. He couldn’t settle on what to feel so Ben did what he did best. Ignored it all. Pretended it didn’t exist.

  “Ben, hi. It’s great to see you.” Ben reached out and shook the gray-haired man’s hand.

  “It’s good to see you, as well.” He looked at Abraham’s wife and added, “You’re looking wonderful, Cynthia.” The couple were big money. Friends of his father and backers in almost everything Congressman Worthington did. “This is Dante De Marco.” Ben signaled to Dante with his hand. He saw the surprise in Abraham’s eyes. The confusion as he looked back and forth between Dante and Ben.

  As incredible as Dante looked tonight, it was obvious he didn’t belong in a place like this. Or maybe belong wasn’t the right word, but he wasn’t accustomed. He didn’t hold himself as though he thought he was better than everyone in the room. And even though Ben hadn’t said what Dante was to him, there were questions written all over their faces. Everyone in the room was with their spouse or a date, and Ben had brought a man.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” It was Cynthia who reached out first, and Dante grasped her hand.

  “The pleasure is mine.”

  Abraham looked at Ben once more before turning his attention to Dante and shaking his hand.

  The four of them stood there talking for a few moments before Abraham excused himself and Cynthia. The second they were gone, Dante leaned over, his mouth close to Ben’s ear. “Why did they look uncomfortable, Ben?” Dante’s voice was tight, strained.

  “This is the first time I’ve taken a man to a political engagement. Come on, I think I see my father on the other side of the room.”

  Dante frowned. He obviously didn’t like Ben’s answer but he didn’t respond. I should have told him, filtered through Ben’s head but he made himself ignore that, too. He had years of practice.

  Ben tried to make his way through the crowd but every few steps, they were approached by someone else—senators, attorneys, men and women who had nothing going for them besides extremely thick pockets.

  Everyone looked at Ben and Dante with the same questions that Abraham and Cynthia did, some more blatantly then others. Some only curiosity, others with disgust. All he cared about was that they knew. That his father would know that everyone in this room knew that Benjamin Worthington Jr. was here with a man.

  Would it hurt him? Anger him? Sever any ties that his dad depended on? Ben didn’t know...but he hoped so.

  Dante had been wrong when he said Ben was a better man than him. He wasn’t anything close to that.

  The crowd got tighter around them. Ben wasn’t sure if it was filling up with more people or if the walls were simply closing in on him. They did that a lot, especially in this house. He hated being inside this house.

  “Ben,” Dante started but was cut off by the sound of Ben’s father’s voice. “What a turn out. You were right, honey.” He looked at his wife who stood beside him. “And here I thought no one would show up.”

  Everyone in the room laughed, everyone except Ben and Dante. His brain started to get fogged up again, that thick, muggy feeling that made him lose track of what he was thinking.

  His father stood on the middle landing on their family staircase. There was a chandelier over him that was never turned on unless people were over. It was needed only for show and this was definitely his father’s show. Fake a happy marriage, a well-adjusted son, pretend to be humble to get people where he wanted them.

  All you had to do was continue up the staircase, to the second floor to reach Bonnie’s old room. The room across the hall that she’d died in. It was a guest room now, completely redone, wiping her memory away.

  “I know you all want to have a good time tonight, so I won’t keep you long. I just want a quick moment to get personal. I—” His eyes locked on Ben, Ben and Dante. Ben could practically see him mentally stumbling.

  He smiled, looked away and recovered quickly. He always recovered quickly. “As you all know, my family is much like the rest of yours. We aren’t short on tragedy. It seems that goes around. My wife and I lost our only daughter when she was just a teenager.”

  Ben’s head swam. His father’s words became distorted, but he fought to find his way through it. To focus on the words because they would make him hate his dad even more than he already did.

  And Ben wanted to hate him.

  “As much as we loved her, we weren’t able to save Bonnie.”

  Ben’s hands tightened into fists. His insides did as well. They hadn’t loved Bonnie. He didn’t love anyone other than himself. And none of them had done anything to save her.

  “We were close to tragedy again when our son, Benjamin Worthington Jr. of Worthington/Mathers was kidnapped, assaulted, and could have been murdered. My wife and I won’t stand by idly again, but we have to ask for your help. As citizens of New York, of our nation, violence is something we need to stick together to fight against. To protect our daughters and sons from thugs on the streets. These aren’t productive members of our society. They’re freeloaders. People who want the American Dream without working for it. They want to steal and murder to get what they want, and I for one, won’t stand by while they ruin the country that I love so much.”

  With each word his father spoke, the fog in Ben’s head cleared, replaced with hate. Anger.

  “I love you, Benny. I’ll always love you.” Bonnie’s words were there, always there in the background. No, their family hadn’t fought for Bonnie the way they should. They hadn’t kept her safe from herself. They’d ruined her.

  The crowd applauded and Ben realized they’d been doing it for a while and he hadn’t noticed. It was like he’d been in a silent room, and was suddenly thrust back into this one—quiet with his thoughts, and then overwhelming cheering and love for his father.

  “Now, go ahead and continue enjoying yourselves. I plan on doing the same.” His dad held up his champagne glass and smiled, before grabbing his mom’s hand and walking down the steps. The people around them went back to their own worlds.

  His dad would come find him. Ben knew that. When he felt a hand on his arm, he figured it was already him, but it wasn’t.

  “What are we doing here, Ben?” Dante asked.

  Ben didn’t have the chance to answer before his father did for him, “I’d like to know the same damned thing.”

  Showtime.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Ben forced his lips into a tight smile. “You wanted me here, remember? What kind of son would I be if I didn’t support my family? We’re big on that, aren’t we? Support. We supported Bonnie so well.”

  Fury shot from his father’s eyes, laser beams directed at Ben.

  “Ben,” his mom started but then, “Abigail, Thomas, thank you so much for joining us.”

  Ben didn’t know exactly who they were but they were important. He knew that. Everyone in the room except for Ben and Dante were.

  From the other direction, another twosome approached. Theodore Bishop and his wife, Holly. These people Ben knew well. They were anti-everything—gay rights, women’s rights, immigration, civil rights. If it wasn’t Christian and white, it wasn’t right.

  They were the people who would have thought something was wrong with Bonnie, instead of wanting to help her. They would hate Ben as well.

  Benjamin Senior pasted a fake smile on his face, ready for a different kind of show than the one Ben had planned.

  Theodore’s gaze found Ben first. “It’s been too long. We haven’t seen you much lately.” He shook Ben’s hand.

  “I know. It’s been a tough few months. As my father pointed out, I was kidnapped and assaulted. Luckily, Dad’s coming to my rescue—well, not mine I guess considering it already happened but think of all the people he will help in the future.” Ben smiled, just as a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne. He grabbed two glasses and handed one to Dante.

 

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