Worlds Collide (Fan Service #6)

17. CJ

SEVENTEEN

CJ

It’s six in the evening when we finally get to the marina of Como and find the sleek wooden speedboat I’ve been on so many times. We drag all the suitcases down the dock, then load them up with the help of Rich, who has much more balance and strength than Wolf or me.

Out of all the properties in the Clemson trust, this one is definitely my favorite, and it’s only going to be better now because I get to share it with Wolf.

And with Rich, who I’m coming to like a lot too. He’s the perfect bodyguard for Wolf, I realized on the plane ride, because he’s as much of a smartass as my... Wolf.

We get the most amazing sunset as our welcome, and I can’t deny I feel all kinds of smugness at the look of wonder on Wolf’s and Rich’s faces.

“You’ve never been here before?” I ask over the sound of the engine.

“No. Been to Milan plenty of times,” Wolf tells me while he looks around. “And Mom took us on vacation to Capri one summer. But never here.” The wonder in his voice makes me realize he’s completely off guard right now.

There are no walls up and I get to see the real him again. There have been a few glimpses here and there, but most of them have been during sex. There were a few minutes while we were battling it out on the tennis court, but he didn’t even talk during that. I could just tell he was enjoying the moment.

Exactly like he is now.

I feel strange staring at him, so I go up to Rich who’s driving the boat expertly and point him to the spot where the house is. Still a mile away, more or less, but you can make out the ten Cypress trees, all perfectly groomed, lining the waterfront of the property. They’re iconic here, and one thing the Clemson’s were good at was grandeur. Ten perfect-looking, ninety-foot trees will get anyone’s attention.

Thankfully, that includes Rich and he nods in a way that tells me he’s got everything under control now.

I walk back to where Wolf is still looking at the majestic mountains bordering the lake, and settle in to do some admiring myself. Enjoying the moment is something I don’t do too often either, so maybe this could be good practice for both of us.

Soon enough, Rich is steering us expertly against the dock and I handle securing the ropes. We all work in silence while we carry the bags up and then stare at the house in the dimming light of the day.

“Wow,” Wolf whispers.

“You said it, man,” Rich agrees.

“It is a bit over the top,” I admit. Though I do love how elegant it is. And that might be the snob in me, but it’s sadly how I was raised no matter how hard I’ve tried to get rid of that part of me.

“Sure it is, but nothing wrong with that.” Rich pats my shoulder then takes the handle of the two biggest suitcases—Wolf’s. “Now, how do we get inside? I need to check the security, the cars, and the entrances.”

“You should rest,” Wolf tells him.

“You know damn well there’s no way I’m sleeping until I know that if there’s some crazed groupie looking for you an alarm is going to let me know at the very least.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wolf mutters. Then, like they practiced it or something, they both turn to look at me.

“Oh, right.” I snap into action and lead them around the house to the front door. There I find the print scanner, and the password pad pops out after. I put the password in and let Rich see it. He nods at me seriously, and then the door is open.

Inside, I show Rich the security panel while Wolf walks around the foyer. Then I show Rich all the entrances, and finally, I lead him outside where the cars are parked.

“And who has access to this place?” Rich asks.

“Well, there’s a housekeeper, Alessia, she’s the only one who has the password to get inside the house. And the gardeners come twice a week. She lets them in. I didn’t tell her we’d be here, but I’ll text her now so she’s not scared tomorrow morning. Otherwise she would’ve been here. I should’ve thought of that. There’s probably nothing to eat, and the rooms might not be ready?—”

“Okay, breathe,” Wolf says, suddenly beside me. “I bet this is your socialite side coming out, isn’t it?”

“A good host always?—”

“Shh,” he tells me. “Don’t depress me with all that fancy talk. We’re all perfectly capable of making a bed and cooking some pasta, and if there really is no food here, then we can go somewhere in that fancy boat of yours.”

“Oh, we should go to Bellagio for sure. ”

“Isn’t that in Las Vegas?” Wolf asks.

“Ugh, peasant,” I tease.

“Look at that, you’re an elitist asshole,” he grumbles.

“I knew Bellagio was a real place in Italy, actually. And all I’ve got is a high school diploma,” Rich backs me up.

“Thank you, Rich.”

“The peasant comment was still a bit much.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m gonna buy you the best meal you’ve ever had in your life so just give me a break.”

“Awesome. Then where do we put all this?” He gestures at the bags.

“Let me show you the rooms.”

“If there’s a room down here then that’s the one I want.” Rich looks around as he speaks.

“There is one, just past that hallway actually.” I point to the left and then gesture for him to follow me. We find the bed perfectly made and fresh towels in the bathroom—seems Alessia is way better at her job than I will ever be at being a host.

After Rich dumps his one bag there, we collect the rest and climb up the stairs to my room. There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping in the master since it’s my parents’—it’s not their bedroom anymore, but it still feels like it is—so I show Wolf my room. It only occurs to me when we’re all standing inside that Wolf might not want to stay in the same room as me.

I mean, I did invite him, and we have had sex three times, technically, but what if?—

“Okay, meet downstairs in twenty?” Wolf asks as he pushes Rich out.

“Su—” Wolf slams the door in his face before he can even get the full word out.

“I need a power nap,” Wolf says and then walks to the bed, takes his shoes off, and lies down. He closes his eyes without another word and seemingly falls asleep immediately.

Is he really asleep? He can’t be . . .

I decide it’s best I leave him to that, and fish my toiletry bag out of my suitcase then go into the bathroom.

I take a long shower—at least for me it’s long, though it’s only ten minutes—and then walk back out to see Wolf is still asleep.

I look at his still body, then away, then back, and away again. Dammit, I don’t know when I’m supposed to wake him up or even if I should. How long does he take to get ready?

I finish changing into a dark linen shirt that I can easily throw my dark gray cashmere sweater over, and put on my black chinos, then I look at Wolf again.

I’ve only ever woken next to him one time, and he was instantly in a really bad mood, though I have no way of knowing if it was because of waking up or, you know, the horrible breach of his privacy, so...

His eyes open suddenly and then he’s standing up and putting his shoes back on.

“You’re not gonna change?” I ask, really trying not to sound judgemental as I look at his worn sweatpants and ratty, basic T-shirt.

He scoffs at me.

“No. I’m walking into a restaurant with a billionaire.” He trails his eyes right down to my black Versace loafers. “A very well-dressed, sexy as fuck billionaire. I can wear whatever I want.” I just cringe, and he straightens to his full height and crosses his arms in that delicious way he always does. “I also happen to be pretty famous myself, you know?” My cringe doesn’t go away, and his response is to let his arms fall and to sigh. “Okay, I’ll change, but I’m not picking what to wear so you just choose something.”

“Great,” I say, genuinely relieved and happy with the task .

I hold up gray slacks and a white button down because you can never go wrong with that combination and Wolf looks at the clothes with disgust.

“I just got off a twelve-hour flight and only had a fifteen-minute nap, I’m not putting on a damn suit,” he growls at me.

“This isn’t a suit,” I argue.

“ Pfft , please that is absolutely a suit only without the jacket.”

“The jacket is the only reason it would be called a suit.” Damn, he’s infuriating.

“Is that type of shit all you packed for me?”

“How about thank you for packing me clothes that aren’t falling apart, CJ ?” I ask, losing my temper. He’s good at getting under my skin, so I don’t know why I’m surprised.

“Thank you for picking clothes I would never wear,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Then why were they in your damn closet?” I demand and throw my hands up.

“Because people always make me go places where I would look like an asshole if I didn’t wear that .”

“You look like an asshole now!” I shout, pointing out the obvious.

“Ugh, fine. But pick something less stifling,” he grumbles and sits back down. I take a deep breath and for some reason smile at how sullen he looks.

“You’re such a child,” I tell him when I turn back to his suitcase to try and find something more relaxed but still put together. I only realize as I’m pulling out piles of the clothes I picked that my words came out with care in them, not exasperation.

What’s that about?

Something to figure out later, I tell myself and focus on the task at hand .

I pick a pair of cream khakis and a brown wool button down that he can wear by itself, since the long sleeves will help with the wind of the lake. Then I find his deep green Adidas—the man only has sneakers, so this is the best I could find in his closet—and black socks, black briefs, and I take it all to him.

“Get changed, I’ll be right back.”

I run to the bathroom to get my comb and styling spray, and lose my train of thought when I see him completely naked, bending over to put his briefs on.

He sees me gaping at him when he straightens and I swallow and look away guiltily.

“I lost a lot of weight when I went to rehab,” he says, like it explains something bad.

“Okay,” I say looking at him again, confused. “I’m sorry for gawking.”

“You can look at me all you want, I just know I look a bit puny.”

“What do you mean?” I’m actually perplexed, he looks fine.

“I’m not as buff as I was before, though now I know I was only buff because of all the beer, not because of any muscle.”

“You look . . . fine.” I settle on.

“Fine?” he demands and it sounds like a whine. I understand the problem then, so I walk over to him, place both hands on his hips and bring him flush against me, kiss his lips teasingly, and speak low.

“You look damn fine , Max. So fine, I want to lick you all up.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

“I can’t believe I’m starting to like that stupid nickname.” I got what I wanted out of him—to get him out of his head—so I step back and let him keep getting dressed .

“Well, I liked my nickname from the second you gave it to me, but it was mostly because of how horny I was for you.”

That makes him smile like a—shit, like a wolf.

“How long have you been horny for me, little rich boy?” he teases.

“You don’t wanna know,” I mumble and move away to try and put some order to the mess of our suitcases.

“I really, really want to know.”

“Not happening.”

“Damn, that long?”

“Long enough that it becomes creepy considering you’re five years older than me,” I mutter, and spin around quickly when I hear a thud. I see Wolf leaning heavily against the nightstand and looking shell shocked. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, I never thought about age difference with you,” he mumbles and goes back to putting on his pants.

“Why, because I’m so much more mature than you?” I tease.

“Precisely.” He throws the shirt over his head carelessly then looks at me expectantly. “Let’s go, then.”

“You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he says primly and walks through the door I hold open for him like he’s royalty or something.

I shake my head and follow him out.

I don’t know how we got to this place where he’s driving me insane one second and we’re teasing each other the next. I’m more comfortable right now than I have been in years, but I’m not willing to question why or think too deeply about it. If I do, then I might spook him and he’s proven to be a flight risk, though he did say he doesn’t want to run away from me anymore, so here’s hoping.

Dinner is as good as I promised, and Rich says so multiple times while we’re eating our gelato on an evening walk through the lively streets of the little village.

I’m glad he sat with us this time, even if it was because there were no other tables available, I still think it’s better to have him here than lurking and looking out for trouble from the table next to ours.

He did go from relaxed to intense as fuck incredibly fast when we were walking out of the restaurant and a man asked Wolf for a picture. I saw first hand not only how much people adore my... Wolf, but how well protected he is with Rich around.

It brings peace to a worry I didn’t even know I had to be honest, and that’s worrisome all by itself. But it is a magical night and we get ahead of jet lag when we fall right back to sleep the second we get home.

I find myself spooning Wolf when we wake up in the morning, and although it’s startling, it’s also the definition of peace.

I enjoy the silence as I slowly wake up, and enjoy it even more when Wolf breaks that silence with a grunt. He rolls over and nuzzles his cheek against the base of my neck until he’s completely buried his face against me.

“Do you know what frotting is?” he asks, still sounding half asleep.

“I don’t,” I tell him, confused. I have no idea what it could be, but by his tone, it doesn’t seem like something fun.

He proves me wrong the next moment, though, when he reaches into my pajama pants and takes hold of my dick. He then scoots closer and I feel he also has morning wood at the exact same second that he starts trailing kisses all over my neck.

“Wolf,” I moan.

“Let me take care of you,” he says quietly. And of course I don’t complain as he loosens his grip around me and moves around until his cock is flush against mine.

Then he’s holding us both and stroking up and down slowly, lazily. It’s heaven, and better yet, I get to hear his grunts turn into groans and then moans.

“You feel so good against me, little rich boy,” he whispers against my ear.

“Yes,” is all I can manage in answer. I move my hips frantically, chasing more friction. We’re barely slippery enough from our combined precome, but I don’t care. I’m about to come all over his hand and— “Holy fuck, Max. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” I beg, unashamed.

I spill all over him and go blind with pleasure for a long second. When I come to, I see Wolf smiling at me. It looks kind of like a teasing smile, but also tender.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you even realize how loud you are when you come?”

“Yeah,” I say with a wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s a great compliment.” He leans over and kisses me softly. I feel his still-hard erection against my leg, so I reach down and hold him. Looks like I’m giving my first handjob today too.

I tell myself not to be nervous. It can’t be that different to jacking off, right?

“CJ,” Wolf says in a voice that wants to sound like a warning but falls short. I kiss him to stop him from saying anything more and focus on making him come while he takes over the kiss.

Every moan that reverbrates inside my own mouth is like a personal reward, and when he finally comes, it’s a drawn-out one that has goosebumps breaking out all over my skin.

“We should wake up like that every day,” I say. A smile stretching my cheeks to the max. Wolf just chuckles .

He looks peaceful lying in my bed. Sated, happy. The most beautiful sight in the world.

Alessia falls in love with Wolf as soon as she sees him wolfing down every crumb she prepared for us, and she thankfully doesn’t bat an eye when she sees him kissing me senseless a while later.

We spend the day at home, still recovering from the long trip, and he fucks me slowly that night. It seems like it goes on for hours as he shows me at least four more amazing positions.

I ask again if I can give him a blow job and he keeps saying no, which is infuriating but also super hot for some strange reason.

We go on a day trip to Milan, where Rich finally gets to drive a car and I get to spend the day badgering Wolf into buying new clothes. He turns down almost every suggestion but I do manage to get him some proper shoes.

We go out to eat every night, always to new places, and all in all, we let ourselves just be .

I know Hawk’s been texting Wolf non-stop because of the constant buzzing of his phone—and because I see Wolf’s jaw bunch with tension when he ignores those texts—but he doesn’t talk about it with me or with Rich from what I know.

I tell myself that giving him space on the subject is the best way to go about it. Let him process and think about what he really wants and needs. From what I understand, his brother pushing or controlling in any way is what drove Wolf insane, so I just change the subject and get Wolf talking however I can when those texts come in.

Five days after we landed in Italy we’re coming back home from dinner and walking through the garden to the back door when Rich stops suddenly before us.

Wolf and I almost crash against his giant back, and when I look up to ask what the hell is going on, I see a lot of lights are on in the house.

My stomach swoops and feels like it falls into a pit of darkness, and then I get another scare when Rich gets a gun out of... thin air it seems. I didn’t even know he had a gun. I’ve never seen a gun like that, so up close.

I’ve only ever seen hunting rifles and they’ve never seemed as... deadly.

“Quiet. Only take a step when I take a step.” Rich issues instructions. His voice is terrifyingly calm and commanding as fuck, so I don’t even think about questioning him.

It takes us forever because of all the stopping and going, but we finally make it inside only to be met by the worst possible scenario...

My parents.

Pointing their snotty little noses up to the ceiling at the sight of Rich and Wolf, and then practically sneering when their eyes land on me.

What a way to fucking ruin a nice evening.