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his hips.
    When it was over, Silvio rested his forehead against Stefano’s shoulder, and Stefano kissed his ear.
    “How are you feeling?” Stefano asked.
    “Good. I’m feeling good.” Silvio kissed his throat. “What about you? Still too hurt?”
    “Yeah.” Stefano pulled his fingers free and wiped them on Silvio’s skirt. “Or I’d have turned you around and fucked you against that wal .”
    Silvio actually half turned to glance back, then rested his head again on Stefano’s shoulder. “Damn shame.”
    Stefano chuckled, content to hold Silvio for these more gentle moments. “Trust me, nobody regrets that more than me.” He kissed Silvio’s neck again. “You’re insane, you know that?”
    Silvio chuckled. “It makes sense in my world.”
    “I bet it does.” Maybe there was just no way to control Silvio, not even to protect him. But trusting that he knew what he was doing?
    So far, it had all worked out fine. At the very least, this cross-dressing masquerade added a layer of protection they’d both needed against their own kind. He couldn’t get too visibly infatuated with Silvio, couldn’t let his fascination show to the other members of the family.
    Moments like this were stolen and incredibly dangerous to them both.
    “Do you like to pretend?”
    Silvio nodded.
    “Once I feel less . . . more myself, I want you to dress up like this, sometimes.”
    “Getting a taste now, are you?” Silvio chuckled. “No problem.”
    “I want to pick you up in my car, take you to a motel, and fuck you there.”
    “Pick me up on the street?”
    “Yes.”
    Silvio chuckled. “I’m up for that. Or a blowjob in the car, right there.”
    Stefano took his chin and made Silvio look at him. “I want more time than that. But we need to be safe.” If anybody caught them, they might mistake Silvio for a girl. In terms of the family, fucking female hookers wasn’t a cardinal sin by far.
    Silvio nodded and kissed his finger. “That, too.”
    Yes, Silvio was getting way too much into that hooker fantasy.
    Things you don’t know.
    Pointless to tell him that Donata sometimes entertained the same kind of fantasy, but on the higher end of the usual pay scale; she liked to pretend to be a high-class call girl, which spiced up their lovemaking every now and then. He enjoyed those games: Forced seduction, challenging him to make her to enjoy herself until she screamed. Paid sex. Or pretending she was a barely-legal virgin teenager with no clue about sex. He’d always thought this was something between man and wife, but he was ready to do the same with Silvio.
    But this was a breach of trust, of fidelity, wasn’t it? Yes. Getting off with a whore was one thing, but playing trust games, indulging fantasies, actually caring about the other’s pleasure as much as he’d care about Donata’s . . . he was crossing a line there. Only a small step, though, after he’d committed the same sin a hundred times in his head already. And what kind of scumbag did that make him? Oddly, it seemed like it wasn’t Silvio’s fault at al , just his own.
    He took Silvio’s neck and kissed him again. “Go, change. I want you up in the house, just for company.”
    “Not my specialty.”
    Stefano smiled. “Then I’ll broaden your horizons. For a change.”

Dark Brother
    hat’s a nice tan,” Silvio said. First words he spoke after “Tthat moment of recognition when he’d opened the door and found Franco standing there. Silvio’s dark eyes had widened briefly, and then he’d grinned, gaze sweeping him up and down.
    Franco exhaled the tension and smiled back. “Africa’s good for something.”
    Silvio grinned wider at him. “Come in.”
    The address he’d received belonged to a handsome bungalow located on the grounds of an extensive manor house, like a servants’
    outbuilding. And what kind of servant Silvio had turned into became apparent when Franco stepped into the living room: on the coffee table rested the carefully arranged