“Thomas and Abigail, I’m not sure you’ve met my son, Ben.” His dad looked toward the other couple who stood in their group, no doubt trying to deter attention from what Ben had said to Theodore. “He’s the Worthington behind Worthington/Mathers.”

  Ah, throwing Ben’s status in there. How typical.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He shook Thomas’ hand and kissed Abigail’s. “This is my date, Dante. Dante meet Thomas, Abigail, Theodore and Holly. You might recognize them. They’re very strong backers of the fight to keep marriage traditional—one man, one woman, the way God intended.”

  “Ben,” his father said sternly as his mom looked nervous. Ben wouldn’t let himself look at Dante. He didn’t want to know what he’d see in his lover’s near-black eyes.

  “It’s okay, Dad. I won’t make a scene. I respect everyone’s right to believe what they want, and to live how they want, no matter how bigoted it is.”

  It was as though each of his words unlocked something inside Ben. Freed him in a way. Made him feel weightless and not as though he was a bystander in his own life as he’d felt lately. He was finally controlling it.

  “Now wait a minute,” Theodore started but Ben held up a hand to him.

  “No, no. It’s okay. Really. That’s not why I’m here. As my father said, this is about family. He’s fighting for me, the way any good father should. And he’s fighting for Bonnie as well. That’s what I want to talk about. I know my father would agree that one of the most important goals we can work toward is the stigma put on the mentally ill. My sister, for example, didn’t get the help she needed. We failed her—my family and society. We refused to support her the way she needed and that should never happen. People should always have access to the help they need.”

  Ben didn’t hear anything in the room beside himself, and the breathing of the people standing by him as he spoke. He felt his father’s anger. His mom’s sadness. Thomas and Abigail’s confusion. Theodore and Holly’s disdain.

  He thrived on it. It gave him strength and energy like he hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. It was a bigger high than sex. Than the things he’d done at the club to all those men who wanted him to dominate them.

  It was power.

  “It wasn’t our fault. We didn’t know Bonnie was so sick,” his mom said softly. It was the wrong thing to say. Ben saw his father tense up.

  “We did what we could for her. You know that. We tried. We loved her, and I think you’re right, Ben. Mental illness is something we need to better tackle. I’d love to get together with you sometime a little more appropriate, toss some ideas around and see what we can come up with.”

  “Yes. I agree. And whatever you need from me, Benjamin. You know I’m willing to help. We’ll discuss this later.” Theodore tugged slightly on his bowtie as though it suddenly tightened.

  “I thought that’s what tonight was about?” Ben eyed his father.

  “No, as I said, tonight is about having a good time. We’ll speak about this later.” The tone in his dad’s voice said he expected Ben to obey. Dante said earlier that Ben was used to getting what he wanted and in some ways he was, but not to the extent of his father.

  “We’re all here now, though. And since Theodore is willing to help...”

  “Maybe it would be wise to work on yourself before you take on something like this. I hate to say it, and I mean no disrespect, but it doesn’t look like you’re dealing very well with what’s happened to you recently, Ben. You haven’t gone back to work, and you’re losing sight of what’s important. Maybe now isn’t the best time for you to try and help other’s when you’re clearly hanging on by a thread yourself.” Theodore’s smug expression was aimed at Ben and Ben alone.

  Ben’s hands shook. Red was all he saw. Not the red Bonnie loved, but anger.

  “Maybe now isn’t the best time for any of this. This isn’t the best way to honor a loved one’s memory. Please, excuse us.” Thomas led his wife Abigail away.

  Ben held still, his feet rooted to the same spot.

  Theodore and Holly walked away next.

  “Leave. We’ll discuss this later.” His father and mother left without looking back.

  Ben’s chest felt empty, cleaned out of everything vital inside him. He turned to Dante, needing something from him. Or maybe just needing the man himself, only to realize Dante was gone as well, and he had no idea when the man had walked away, leaving Ben alone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Ben sat in the back of the limo, eyes closed. It couldn’t stop him from seeing all the things in his head: Tristan, Josiah, Mateo. His father, mother, and the people from the party. Bonnie, she was always there, crying, telling Ben she loved him, and showing him her fascination with red.

  And Dante. Dante was there, lingering, watching, and somehow giving Ben comfort with his presence. He didn’t understand why his rapid heartbeat slowed when he saw Dante. Why it became easier to breathe. Why he didn’t feel like he was climbing out of his own skin, but somehow he didn’t. The comfort of the man, even in Ben’s own head, soothed the crazed thoughts that were always there.

  The thoughts that had lead him tonight.

  “Mr. Worthington? We’re here.”

  Ben opened his eyes to see the chauffeur standing beside the open limo door. He hadn’t even realized they stopped moving. Hadn’t heard the door open.

  “Thank you.” Ben climbed out of the limo.

  “Would you like me to wait, sir?” he asked and Ben only shook his head. He didn’t know if Dante was here or not but if he wasn’t, he would find his own way home.

  Ben climbed the dirty stairwell in Dante’s old building. When he got to Dante’s door, he paused a second and just breathed. His mind was going a million miles an hour. It was one of those times when he didn’t feel connected to himself. As though he stood outside his body rather than living in it.

  And then he knocked.

  He did it twice before the door opened.

  Dante didn’t say a word, just walked away, leaving Ben to close the door behind himself after he walked in. He still wore the pants and shirt from his suit, but he’d removed the jacket. The sleeves were folded to his elbows.

  “You used me.” Dante walked over to his table, downed the shot sitting there.

  “I didn’t use you.” He crossed his arms, studied his lover, but struggled to keep his focus.

  “You used me!” Dante slammed the shot glass down on the table hard enough to make it shake. “Whatever this game was tonight, you used me for it. You used being with me as a weapon to hurt your family. To make yourself look less desirable to those people, as though there is something wrong with who I am. My family thought there was something wrong with me. I won’t fuck someone who feels the same.”

  Ben opened his mouth but nothing came out. There was something in Dante’s voice that he hadn’t heard before. Not in this capacity.

  Hurt.

  The man had spoken with the hurt he felt for whatever happened with Abel. For Abel’s death, but never in regards to Ben and something Ben had done to him.

  And Dante was right.

  “It would be one thing if you told me, but you didn’t. I won’t be used that way, Ben. If that’s what you want, walk back through the door and don’t come back. Don’t call. Fuck!” Dante ran a hand through his thick, black hair. “That’s what you should do anyway. This is becoming too much.”

  A real fear lit inside Ben. Not the kind he felt with Javier or the night he’d been beaten. Not the kind he felt with his family or even Tristan. This fear was stronger, more intense, creating a rapid-building, colossal storm inside him. The kind of storm that devastated. Ravaged. Destroyed.

  He didn’t want to walk away. He didn’t want this to be too much.

  He wanted Dante. Wanted him more than he’d ever wanted anyone.

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “Which means you should!” Dante yelled. “The fact that I give a shit about what happened here tonight means you should. I can’t do this, Ben. I can’t be responsible for someone again.”

  The fear deepened. Clawed at him, viscously tore up Ben’s insides. He couldn’t be alone again. He couldn’t lose someone again. “You think I don’t know I’m fucked up? That my head is a mess and that all I do is take from you? I know it and I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face, paced the room. Felt like he would vomit. “I’m sorry. Just...don’t...”

  Tighter, tighter, tighter. His body wound up so tight he thought he would burst. His heart beat so fast, he thought it would work so hard that it had no choice except to fail. And maybe it should. Maybe that would make it all easier.

  His head started going fast again, like it was running, spinning with too many thoughts that he couldn’t catch ahold of. The fog was there, making it harder to see. “I shouldn’t be this screwed up. Why the fuck am I this screwed up?”

  Dante didn’t answer his question. He said something Ben had never expected to hear from him. “You give me something. You make me feel.”

  Ben had never really given someone something before. Not something they needed. Tristan hadn’t needed him. Bonnie had, but Ben hadn’t been able to give her what she needed. But he gave something to Dante. That made some of the ache leave him.

  He wanted to keep giving it too.

  Ben walked over to Dante, stopped in front of him and lowered his eyes. “I want you. Take me. Use me. Fuck me. Control me.” Maybe it didn’t really matter, maybe he wasn’t giving anything at all because in reality, Ben needed all of those things he just asked Dante to do.

  He needed to be fucked.

  He needed to be owned.

  He needed to lose himself.

  But he thought maybe Dante needed to find him, too.

  Dante needed to give, whether or not he realized it, and Ben was selfish enough that he needed to take anything Dante would give him.

  “Please.” And somehow, the begging didn’t make him feel weak. “I need you. There is nothing wrong with you. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” No, the shame was Ben’s because he had used Dante tonight. Maybe he was still using him. “Take me.”

  He waited for Dante to tell him what to do. For Dante to grab him, kiss him, shove him to his knees but none of it came. The longer Ben waited the more he felt like he was going out of control—floating, drifting farther away from his own body.

  Finally, when he couldn’t stop himself anymore, Ben looked up, locked eyes with Dante, who gave him one word.

  “No.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Panic flared to life inside him. He couldn’t lose Dante. Couldn’t be alone. “You need this, too. You needed to take care of Abel just like you need to do it with me. Control me, Dante. Fuck me.”

  Ben fought with himself not to reach for Dante. He could be good. He could wait. He could listen as long as Dante brought him back to Earth. And he got what he needed when Dante said, “Go into my room.”

  Ben went. Dante was right behind him. Ben’s prick was already hard, it ached with need. His pulse still went too fast but he could feel it wanting to slow, the fog beginning to lift.

  When he got to the room, Ben stopped beside Dante’s bed and waited. They were almost the same height but Dante still put his hand under Ben’s chin, tilting it slightly before kissing him. It was slow and deep, passionate and hungry. It made Ben’s cock ache...but something else, too. Made his chest twitch and hurt but in a way that made him want more. Made the organ in his chest want with an intensity he’d never experienced.

  Dante pulled away, giving him a small smile...but it somehow looked sad.

  “Take my clothes off. Slowly. If you go too fast, I won’t be happy,” Dante told him.

  Ben’s instinct was to rush but he kept himself steady as his lover commanded. One by one, he slowly pulled each button through its hole, until Dante’s white shirt opened completely.

  “Can I keep going?” he asked, afraid to rush.

  Dante nodded once. Ben pushed the fabric from Dante’s shoulders, down his arms, one then the other, before taking the shirt off completely.

  He wanted his mouth on Dante. His tongue on Dante’s salty skin. “Can I kiss you here?” Ben asked. Another nod, so Ben leaned in. Kissed Dante’s collarbone. Licked his throat before kissing there as well.

  “That’s enough.” Ben pulled back as soon as Dante issued the order. “Take off my pants.”

  Ben went down to his knees. He unbuttoned Dante’s slacks, kept himself in check as he slowly, so fucking slowly slid Dante’s pants down his legs. When he got to Dante’s feet, Dante stepped one foot out, and then the other, before they repeated the same process with his boxer-briefs.

  He looked up, Dante’s long, thick, dark erection right in front of his face. He wanted to taste it. Wanted his face in Dante’s crotch. Wanted to inhale him.

  “Can I suck you?”

  Ben waited for Dante to nod...but this time he didn’t. He shook his head and Ben’s stomach dropped out.

  “Stand up.” Dante told him.

  He did.

  It was then that Dante repeated everything Ben had done to him, only he started with Ben’s jacket, then his tie. He slowly unbuttoned each button before kissing Ben’s collarbone, licking his throat and then kissing there as well.

  Ben moaned when Dante went to his knees. The man was beautiful down there, his eyes dark and commanding. Ben traced the lines of Dante’s back tattoos with his eyes, loving them but wanting them gone. They were beautiful but they were Abel’s mark on Dante.

  Ben didn’t have one on him.

  Ben’s pants were undone. They slid down his legs and like Dante had, he stepped out of them. His underwear were next. As though Dante had read Ben’s thoughts from earlier, he leaned in, forehead against Ben’s stomach and inhaled his scent.

  Ben fought not to grab Dante’s head and hold him there. Not to push his dick between Dante’s lips the way he’d wanted Dante to do to him.

  Dante was grounding him and Ben wouldn’t do anything to mess that up.

  After he stood, Dante said, “Get in bed.”

  Ben did. Dante turned on the small lamp beside his bed, and then turned off the overhead lights before lying on the other side of the bed. He didn’t reach for the lube, or his blindfold, just laid there beside Ben.

  And Ben waited.

  Waited until he felt like he would lose his fucking mind.

  “I won’t be your drug of choice,” Dante finally said.

  Ben rolled to his side and looked at Dante. “What does that mean?”

  “I won’t be your drug of choice,” he said again. “I made that mistake once before. I won’t do it again. I can’t. I’m not fucking you. Not tonight. Maybe never again.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Ben lay there, didn’t move as his head spun out of control. Fuck Dante. Fuck him if he didn’t want Ben. Ben could find someone else. He’d found it when Tristan didn’t want him and he’d find it again.

  Only he didn’t move. Couldn’t make his God damned legs move so he could get out of bed. I don’t want anyone else... I want him.

  He only wanted Dante and that made his head spin faster. Made him feel more detached, like he was floating away.

  “I won’t do it because that’s what I did with him, and it didn’t help. I won’t do it because I don’t want to lose you the way I lost him.”

  Ben held his breath. His body still strumming with the need to come. For release. For Dante to possess him...but there was something else there now. He wanted more of Dante. Wanted inside him in the only way he could be...by knowing what made him nearly as broken as Ben was.

  Ben didn’t move, didn’t reach out and touch Dante the way he wanted. He lay still, waited for Dante to make the first move because Dante would need that.

  Finally, he spoke. “He was young when I met him—a kid in a lot of ways. Much younger than me. Twenty. Alone. On the streets. On drugs. I was walking one night, when I heard a sound from the alley. I was reckless, didn’t really give a shit what happened to me, so I followed the sound. He was there, in the darkness, beaten and bleeding, lying in a ball.”

  So similar to the way Dante had found Ben one night, only for them, it hadn’t been the first time they met.

  “I couldn’t leave him. I told him I would call an ambulance but he begged me not to, begged me not to leave him either, so I took him home. Took him home because I was alone as well. It was obvious after the first day that he was an addict. He was coming down, needed his fix. I don’t know what it was about me that made Abel think he could trust me, but he did. He asked for me to help him get clean, to keep him in my apartment and not let him out, no matter how much he begged.”

  Dante rolled his head to the side and looked at Ben. “I did it for the reason you said, it feels good for me to be needed. Maybe that’s my drug of choice, to take care of people. For them to need me because if they do, they can never walk away from me the way my family did.”

  There was a part of Ben who needed that, too. To really be wanted.

  “We were only friends at first. He needed me and I needed that. He got clean and never left. He got a job, lived in my spare room.”

  That gave Ben comfort, the fact that it had to have been a different apartment since this one only had one room.

  “From the beginning, he wanted me. I held off at first. He was so much younger than me. He was fragile, but Abel didn’t back down, and I found it hard not to give him whatever he wanted. We became lovers. He liked it rough and I gave it to him that way. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy it, too. You know I do. Abel wasn’t the first that I dominated but it was different with him. Everything I did was for him.

  “I enjoyed watching him thrive. He was an artist, as you know. He drew and painted and started tattooing. He was so different from the boy I’d met in the alley. I can’t explain how that feels...to witness and to feel like you had a hand in changing someone’s life, in being what they need.”

 

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