Fires of Crete
Adrianna Dane
www.loose-id.com
Fires of Crete Copyright © December 2010 by Adrianna Dane All rights ...
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Fires of Crete
Adrianna Dane
www.loose-id.com
Fires of Crete Copyright © December 2010 by Adrianna Dane All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-60737-910-2 Editor: Sherri Lynn Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs Printed in the United States of America
Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 425960 San Francisco CA 94142-5960 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author‟s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter One Upon the waters of the Mediterranean rests an isle of the Minoan race. Passions erupt when he’s consumed by lust for a man destiny marks as his mate. That was not the mantinada on the placard in front of him but one that slowly formed in his fantasies during the long flight from the US to the bustling city of Heraklion on the island of Crete. Lust was such a small word for the gorgeous man holding up the white signboard handwritten with a welcoming message in Greek. Andrew, weary after the flight and the time change and the tedious passage through customs, suddenly was reinvigorated with a flood of fresh adrenaline. He was here at last. And the man waiting for him was more than he could have hoped. An image of Icarus flashed into his mind. Of the erotic statue that graced his home back in the suburbs of Boston. Well-formed, lean, and wiry. He imagined welldefined pecs beneath the casual shirt stretched across his chest. Legs that could grip, hips thrusting. Biceps, not bulging with muscle, but strong and fit, forearms well able to hold a man, to grip a hip, to claim control. Andrew, at thirty-nine, hadn‟t felt this randy in longer than he cared to remember. “Stephanos?” he inquired, needing desperately to confirm that the man was waiting for the dusty American professor, with whom he‟d struck up a conversation online about the history of Crete. The dusky-skinned young Greek grinned, showing the whitest teeth Andrew imagined he‟d ever seen. Against a darkly tanned complexion and eyes that rivaled a gleaming Mediterranean sea for breathtaking, Andrew once again was reminded
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of a winged man soaring high in the sky headed directly toward the burning heart of an immense auriferous orb. The anticipation was almost more than Andrew could bear. His cock was already hard and pressing against his blue jeans. His heart pounded in his chest, the excitement making his skin tingle. A ray of afternoon sunlight highlighted Stephanos‟s wild curly blue-black hair that defied confinement. “Yassas. Hello, Andrew. Ne—yes, it is I, Stephanos.” Stephanos. Young. Beautiful. Greek. Your cock, long and thick, driving deep, stretching my hole, consuming me. God, yes. He wanted that with the man standing in front of him. At this moment, he needed it more than the history he‟d come to Crete to find. They‟d never really spoken out loud about sexual preferences. And Stephanos‟s online profile had been decidedly uninformative on any personal level. The relationship they‟d struck up had been through a Greek history site. It had been more an undeniable impulse than anything else that had Andrew contacting Stephanos. That and the fact he lived on Crete and had an interest in history. And that‟s what they‟d discussed, more in relation to Andrew‟s past and a history he wanted to discover. After more than a year of building a friendly relationship, Stephanos had invited Andrew to visit Crete, and he‟d offered to be Andrew‟s guide and interpreter. How could Andrew refuse? He‟d had qualms about making the trip. After all, what did he really know about Stephanos? The man had shared so little of himself. He couldn‟t turn down the invitation. Something far stronger than he understood had him making that reservation without only fleeting second thoughts. But meeting the man face-toface, he knew it was the right decision, and it was going to take every bit of control he could muster to keep his hands off Stephanos until invited. Words seemed lacking at the moment. All he could do was stare at Stephanos, drinking in the beauty of the man, the exotic perfection. God, how he hoped the man was gay. He‟d been up front with Stephanos pretty much from the beginning. His online profile
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was completely honest. Approaching the matter in a more direct fashion was fairly easy to do in an anonymous e-mail. He‟d done it more or less in a conversational manner, tied in some ways to Greek history. Stephanos had never indicated whether he was gay or straight. They‟d never approached the subject again after that. But Stephanos had indicated in passing that he wasn‟t in a relationship at the moment. The tension thickened as Stephanos stared back. There was that moment, that urge to reach out and hug Stephanos close. The painful urge to want to kiss him, to learn his body, to discover the newness. I’ve been waiting for you, Andrew. Let’s go home and fuck. Those were the words Andrew wanted to hear. Yes, Stephanos. Anything, any way. Those were the words Andrew wanted to say. He could taste the words. They sounded loud and pleasantly arousing inside his head. Stephanos turned away, breaking the connection. Andrew released a long, pent-up breath. The moment had passed. For now. “Let‟s go,” Stephanos said. He relieved Andrew of one of his suitcases. “My apartment is not far. I expect you would like to rest. A fresh look out—I mean outlook—in the morning would be best, I think.” Andrew could listen to Stephanos‟s voice forever. His heavily accented intonation, somewhat shy and carefully pronounced speech. He had told Andrew he wanted to work on perfecting his English while Andrew was visiting. For a second Andrew stared at Stephanos‟s lips—that fleshy lower lip, skin that Andrew wanted to taste, to tug at, to see what sounds Stephanos might make—deep and guttural? Or a long, slow sigh? He bet the man could suck too. Fuck, he had to stop thinking about sex. That wasn‟t what he was here for. But the young, sexy godlike man with the perfectly proportioned ass, leading the way toward the exit, was terribly inviting. Andrew watched him navigate through the crowds, moving with a fluid and easy gait.
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Andrew was not known for taking chances. He liked his well-ordered life. He was old-school, the type of man who didn‟t ordinarily involve himself in complicated intimate relationships. Most of the men he‟d found some measure of satisfaction with didn‟t want to hear about the Mycenaean Age. They didn‟t much care about Theseus or the Minotaur. They didn‟t care how many times Crete had been invaded, how they had triumphed, how the people possessed a vast and profound courage. They hadn‟t minded learning about the exotic sex lives of the Greeks. The secret rooms, the elite sects that catered to the eroticism of ancient Greek life. That had invariably been the topic that had gotten them into bed. He‟d never had a problem getting a sex partner, and he‟d always had a way of telling his erotic stories—showing it—that left his partners infinitely satisfied and eager for more. But satisfaction was inevitably short-lived and the relationships, if one could call them that, superficial. For Andrew, something had been missing. There had to be more to it. History wasn‟t simply about titillating sex fables, and when he‟d discovered Stephanos online during a chat on the Spartan society, it was like he‟d found a soul mate at the cerebral level. They had taken their exchange outside of the more populated chat room and spent hours in conversation and debate. It was exciting in a way he‟d never felt before. And now, meeting him, he wondered—could the cerebral truly meld with a more intimate relationship? Could they find common ground? Two weeks—he had only two weeks to find out. And he couldn‟t wait to get started.
*** The attraction caught Stephanos unaware. All he could think of was slamming Andrew up against the wall, kissing him deep, and then fucking him hard. That was the first image that suffused his mind when he saw the handsome, rather rumpled studious-looking man with the baggage approaching him. The glasses he‟d pocket first, so they wouldn‟t be damaged. The gold-flecked beard would scratch and burn; perhaps the mustache would tickle a bit. Oddly, he realized he‟d never been
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with a man sporting a beard before. All his rather clandestine relationships had been with clean-shaven men. He was intrigued by the possibilities. Stephanos, after months of e-mails, had finally gotten up the courage to invited Andrew to come to Crete, and Stephanos had to find the courage to tell the sexy professor he wanted more than just to be his friend and interpreter. He fisted his hands tighter around the steering wheel of his Swedish-made compact station wagon as they waited in backed-up traffic. “You should post a new photograph on your profile, Andrew.” Andrew turned from staring out the window at the sights of Heraklion. “You don‟t like it?” They sat stagnant, motor running, nowhere to go. Stephanos studied Andrew. “You look much older in the photo. It does not do you justice. You look much…younger in person. And your words—they make you sound older in your emails as well.” Traffic inched forward; Stephanos returned his attention to the road. Horns blared; people yelled. And Andrew smelled very, very good in the confined atmosphere. Winter meant the sun set early. It was raining, which was probably the reason for the slower traffic, most likely a collision up ahead. “Are you…flirting with me, Stephanos?” The air in the car turned thick with sexual tension and excitement. Traffic stalled once again. He hesitated to answer. “Are you gay, Stephanos? Or are you a straight guy just looking for a quick holiday hookup? Something exotic to try? You‟ve never said.” Stephanos knew his answer would likely change everything. Was he ready for this? Admitting it out loud was a huge leap for him. The last time he‟d told someone he was gay, he‟d paid a high price. Since then he was very careful about revealing anything personal about himself, except in very controlled situations. No one at work knew he was gay. At least it had never come up in conversation. And he was careful about the places he frequented, the men he fucked. Yes, he was very careful.
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Until now. “What if I were flirting with you? What if I admitted I was…gay?” He held his breath as he awaited Andrew‟s response. Both afraid and excited. “I‟d say, thank God,” Andrew said in a low, breathless tone. “I was afraid either you wouldn‟t be gay, or you wouldn‟t be interested.” “I wanted to meet you first. For me, it‟s not an easy thing to speak of my sexuality.” Suddenly, Andrew released his seat belt and leaned toward Stephanos. His hand went to the thick bulge outlined against Stephanos‟s jeans. His teeth razed at the curve of Stephanos‟s ear. “Ahh, this isn‟t exactly the place to start something,” Stephanos said, trying to keep his attention on the still-halted traffic. “We‟re not going anyplace just yet, are we? Nobody can see in—it‟s pitch-black, and the windows are fogged.” His hand kneaded Stephanos‟s cock rhythmically. Stephanos licked his lips and then glanced at Andrew. Andrew grabbed the moment. He fastened his mouth to Stephanos‟s lips, and fireworks exploded behind Stephanos‟s closed eyelids. He opened his mouth, and Andrew‟s tongue plunged inside, and Stephanos‟s brain seemed to explode. More than he‟d hoped. Definitely worth the risk of being arrested for indecent public displays. Andrew nuzzled Stephanos‟s dark five o‟clock shadowed jaw. “How soon before we get to your apartment?” His hand rubbed against Stephanos‟s erection. God, he wanted out of this traffic right this minute. He wanted Andrew‟s hand inside his pants, his fingers curled around his prick. “Soon. Now get your seat belt back on before we are arrested.” Stephanos felt disappointment ooze though him as Andrew eased back into his seat. Stephanos heard the click of the seat belt. He tried to get his mind on something else rather than his raging desire to fuck Andrew. He gripped the steering wheel. He thought of his father, the stony
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expression on his face when Stephanos had told him he was gay. The anger and painful words that had ensued. The deep cut into his heart of being disowned by his entire family. He hadn‟t returned to his village since that encounter. He‟d tried to call; he‟d written letters. None had been answered. This Christmas would have been another spent alone. He glanced at Andrew. But he wouldn‟t be alone this year. This year, he‟d taken a chance, perhaps an impulsive risk, because he couldn‟t stand it any longer. He‟d reached out, and Andrew had been there. “It was almost a year ago exactly that we first connected,” he said. He inhaled the scent of Andrew‟s sophisticated cologne. “I remember,” Andrew said. “Christmas Eve. I‟d taken a break from the family and gone into my father‟s study to check my e-mail. Yours caught my attention.” Andrew had been surrounded by family. Stephanos had been alone in his apartment. “Does your family know that you are gay?” He couldn‟t help asking. “Yes. They‟ve known almost from the first. They took it in stride as they do most everything. Sort of a badge among their friends.” He raised his voice an octave. “„Oh, Andrew is gay, you know.‟” Stephanos heard an underlying tension in the tone of Andrew‟s voice. He waited for Andrew to say more, but he didn‟t. “And they are right with it then?” “Not much of a problem. They‟ve very, what would you call it? Enlightened?” Traffic began to move at a more even pace. “The holidays are very important for your family, Andrew?” “It‟s the one time we usually can manage to get together. So I guess so. But not this year. They‟re headed for a cruise to the Caribbean this year.” “But you are here? Were your parents not upset?” “I‟m thirty-nine, Stephanos, and they know this is important to me.” “They are not challenged by the fact you want to discover your birth family?”
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“Challenged? Oh, you mean feeling threatened by it? No, as I said, they‟re pretty open-minded. They understand.” But again, there was something odd in Andrew‟s intonation. Stephanos finally turned into the parking garage of his apartment building. He found his slot, turned in, and shut off the engine. He undid his seat belt and then looked at Andrew. The car was dark, the garage low lit. And he could smell Andrew‟s light cologne. “I‟m glad you chose to come here.” His words were softly spoken but heartfelt. A warm hand searched for his, and he threaded his fingers through Andrew‟s. “I‟m glad I came too, Stephanos. I wouldn‟t have missed this for anything.” Then lips met again, once more in the dense darkness, a promise and a demand. Two weeks. Stephanos had two weeks to explore this relationship, to know Andrew in every way he had never even dared imagine he would have a chance to do. Two weeks that he most likely would never forget.
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Chapter Two Sensory overload was a mild phrase to use, Andrew thought, as his insides and his brain seemed to explode with everything that had happened since his flight landed. Or maybe it was even before that. Suddenly things were moving at light speed. His brain buzzed as if he‟d imbibed a line of strong caffeine shots. And then, of course, there was Stephanos. He watched as Stephanos stowed his suitcases in a back room of the apartment. The anticipation of what might come next, especially after the foreplay in the car, had Andrew aching with arousal. “It is small, I know,” said Stephanos apologetically as he stepped from the room. “It‟s fine. It‟s a great apartment, and the view is breathtaking.” Coming from a small, sleepy sort of college town on the outskirts of Boston, the Heraklion cityscape was mesmerizing, ancient and contemporary blended together. Not to say that Boston didn‟t have its historical and contemporary blend. But on Crete the history went so much further, encompassing such diverse cultures. He stared out the window. He could hear the bustling of noisy traffic. From this distance, especially at night with all the lights sparkling, the view was stunning. Andrew was excited by the chance of discovering the city‟s secrets. “I‟ll admit it—I traded the chance for a large apartment because I fall in love with the view. But there is only just me, so it is fine, I think. At least for now.” Was that an indication that perhaps someday Stephanos expected to share it with another man?
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It wasn‟t overly decorated, but understated and tasteful. What few pieces of furniture were visible seemed well chosen with simple, contemporary lines. All done in shades of tans and browns and white-painted walls. Stephanos entered the living room from the kitchen carrying two wineglasses. He handed one to Andrew. “Mandelaria,” he said. “I hope you like it.” They sat on the sofa. Stephanos at one end and Andrew took the other. He took a gulp of the dry red wine. A good flavor. Stephanos smiled, almost a look of relief. “My cousin has a vineyard on the other side of the island. He sends me a case every now and then.” The conversation turned to wines—white and red. Retsina and Mandelaria. Small talk. Get-acquainted conversation. But Andrew‟s inner thoughts ran a different line altogether. And it wasn‟t to the antiquities of Crete or the museums of Heraklion—encompassing his particular passion as a researcher. It didn‟t turn to the search for his missing past. When Stephanos took his empty wineglass, their fingertips brushed, and an electrical surge ran through Andrew at that simple contact. Stephanos gazed down into his eyes. He released the glass, and he laid his hand over Andrew‟s, stroked his fingers over the back of Andrew‟s wrist. Andrew‟s breath lost its way in his chest, stopped to gather painfully, even as arousal gripped him tightly in his crotch. Stephanos stroked again. An arrow of electricity shot from wrist to cock. And then Stephanos straightened away, taking the glass with him—taking the warmth of his presence, leaving his scent lingering on Andrew‟s skin. Leaving the echo of that touch against his wrist. He placed his other hand over the spot and rubbed his skin, trying to absorb, to hold on to that connection. “There‟s a café near Theotokopoulou Square where I know the food is good. I thought we might go there for dinner. Perhaps not so heavy a meal. If you‟re agreeable. That is, if you‟re not too weary after the long trip.”
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Andrew knew he should be exhausted, especially factoring in jet lag. Unable to gain any restful sleep on the plane, too excited to get his mind to shut down, essentially he‟d been up for more than twenty-four hours straight. At some level, he felt the exhaustion. But being in Stephanos‟s company was like a jolt of caffeine injected directly into his bloodstream. All he wanted was more of Stephanos, not sleep. He tried to slow down. “That sounds great. After airplane food, I‟d enjoy some authentic Greek cuisine. Lead the way.” He grinned, and Stephanos smiled in return. God, but he didn‟t want to eat; he didn‟t want to sleep. He wanted to take this gorgeous Greek to bed and not leave it for the next fourteen days. “Great. You can freshen up, and then we‟ll go. You‟ll take the bedroom. I shall sleep on the sofa. The bathroom is just off the bedroom.” “No. That‟s not right,” Andrew argued. “Believe me, I‟ve had a lot rougher accommodations. The couch will be just fine for me.” “Not in my home, Andrew. I will not have it. The plan is made, please. You will insult me if you do not accept my hospitality.” There was no way Andrew could graciously refuse even though he didn‟t feel right about it. What his better preference would be was to share the bedroom with Stephanos. But even with the immediate attraction that had already been established, and with the short time Andrew would be on Crete, he didn‟t push the issue. What if he had misunderstood the signals? Perhaps he wanted it to happen too much. Perhaps he was more tired than he thought. After a refreshing shower and a change of clothes, Andrew felt revived and a trifle calmer. They took a taxi from the apartment to the café. Andrew tried to relax. “This is the old section of Heraklion,” Stephanos said as the cab drew up to the entrance and they exited on Theotokopoulou Street. “I thought you might enjoy a bit of atmosphere with dinner.” It was too cold to eat outside, but Stephanos found a table near the window, which looked out onto a small park at Theotokopoulou Square. After scanning the
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menu, Andrew ordered the kleftiko, which was a flaky filo pastry filled with feta cheese, tender meat, and succulent vegetables. Andrew tucked into it as soon as the food hit the table. He hadn‟t realized how hungry he was, but his plate was empty before he knew it. A cup of strong Greek coffee and a slice of baklava for dessert topped the meal off amazingly well. The conversation with Stephanos was companionable, almost as though they‟d known each other for years, rather than simply communicating via e-mail for the last twelve months. It was an easy relationship as they spoke of work, their shared interest in Greek history, particularly the Minoan period, and touching on world events and continuing economic struggles of both their countries. “Many are concerned with their job security and futures. This last year has been very difficult with much upheaval for everyone.” Andrew nodded. “Same in the US. Jobless rates are up, banks closing—makes for a very volatile and unstable environment.” Stephanos took a sip of his coffee, and Andrew noticed the fullness of his lips— the wetness of his lower full lip especially—and wondered what the man would taste like right now. He couldn‟t help himself. He was strongly attracted to Stephanos, yet unsettled. He was a guest and thought it best to take his cues from Stephanos. And so he waited, albeit rather impatiently. “One has to be careful at work, you know,” Stephanos said. He looked away from Andrew and out the window across the square. “One must consider appearances. It is not so easy here in my country as it is in America.” Andrew had a feeling he knew what Stephanos was getting at. Several friends of his were still trying to get tenure after coming out as being gay. It wasn‟t easy. He‟d been fortunate. The college he taught at had more liberal leanings. Teaching at the lower grades could be more of a tricky tightrope. “I think I know what you mean. Even in the States there are still places one needs to be careful. It isn‟t always as easy as what it might appear to be on the outside.”
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Stephanos looked at Andrew. He had the most amazing eyes that Andrew had ever seen. They seemed to change color. Tonight the color looked like dark sapphire. Almost a bottomless ocean of midnight blue. “Is that true?” he asked. “What about you, Andrew? Is your career in jeopardy?” “No. Not mine, but I‟ve seen the problems that several of my associates have had. It makes me angry. I‟ve sure attended my share of demonstrations.” “But your family supports you. That is a good thing.” “Yeah, I guess they do. It should be enough, shouldn‟t it? My life is pretty good when compared to a lot of what goes on. But there‟s still this restlessness. The need to know where I really came from. Maybe it‟s stupid, but I can‟t help it.” “To connect with your blood.” Stephanos nodded. “Blood is important. It is our history, our ancestors that make us who we are.” “Some people would say our environment is what fashions us. That natureversus-nurture controversy. Maybe it‟s the researcher in me, but how do I know if I haven‟t got a clue what my birth parents were like?” He took a sip of his coffee. “Enough about me. Tell me, Stephanos, does your family know you‟re gay?” Andrew‟s last question seemed to have caught Stephanos off guard, as he hesitated. A range of expressions crossed his face before he answered. “Yes. They know.” “Do they live here in Heraklion?” “No. They live in the mountains.” Stephanos was again silent for a long time. Andrew studied the dark-eyed man sitting across from him. Something told him that Stephanos‟s coming out had not been an easy time for him. There was something very reserved about him, as though he dared not share too much of his feelings with anyone. He looked as though he‟d been…wounded. Empathy shot through Andrew. He didn‟t pry, though. This relationship was too new, and he didn‟t want to endanger it before it had even gotten started. “I showed the picture around of the medallion,” Stephanos said, changing the subject.
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Andrew reached for the medallion that hung around his neck. Excitement began to build, but this time for another reason. “Did you find out anything?” “Yes.” Stephanos seemed relieved that the topic of discussion had moved back to Andrew. “The medallion is apparently old. The kind of good luck charm passed down from mother to daughter, particularly in the mountain villages. It was perhaps worn as protection in ancient times. The symbols on the disc seem to indicate, as you suspected, that it may have originated from somewhere around Anogia. Andrew leaned forward, excited by this news. “And we can go there?” “This time of year it will be easy to get trapped on those high mountain roads. But I will check the weather reports. So far the roads are clear, and I think we can make the trip if we time it right.” At last he might find out the identity of his birth mother. Perhaps there might be some information on who his father was as well. His roots. Sometimes he wondered if his whole fascination with Greek history was because he had no personal history of his own. He had always found himself trying to glean something from his studies that marked who he was. And he‟d never been successful. Until he met Stephanos online. He reached out to clasp Stephanos‟s hand and squeezed. He felt Stephanos stiffen at the contact, but he didn‟t pull away. Andrew hadn‟t even thought about the fact that Stephanos might need to keep the secret of his sexuality away from public prying eyes. His action had been simply a spontaneous moment of sharing and connection, and he‟d been too excited by the possibilities. Slowly, he pulled his hand away. “I-I‟m sorry. I didn‟t mean…” “No, Andrew. I am sorry. It‟s just…” Andrew would have reached out again just to comfort Stephanos, but then thought better of it. He was in a different country, and he didn‟t know the rules. He‟d done enough traveling to know that it paid to tread carefully around other
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cultures. Stephanos was going to have to live here after he left. He didn‟t want to ruin things for him. Andrew stifled a yawn. Jet lag was catching up with him with a vengeance. “We should go. You are exhausted. Tomorrow, after you‟ve had some rest, we will talk about plans to go to Anogia.” “Yeah, that sounds good to me. God, this is kicking my ass.” He tripped on the doorsill as they exited the café. This time it was Stephanos who reached out to steady him with a strong hand to Andrew‟s arm. The touch was electric. A long minute passed before Stephanos slowly released him and then quickly stepped away to hail a cab. Even as tired as he was, Andrew couldn‟t help wanting Stephanos in a way that wasn‟t simply friendship. But was a holiday romance what he really wanted? He had a feeling if he did pursue this…thing…with Stephanos, he wouldn‟t want it to end when his vacation was over. But how could it be anything else when his work was back in the US and Stephanos‟s was here? A cab pulled up, and Stephanos motioned for him to get in. It took every last ounce of energy to drop onto the seat of the cab, and every speck of willpower to stay awake until they arrived at the apartment building. He just wasn‟t in the right frame of mind to consider any sort of decent follow-through with Stephanos right now. Bed and sleep were about his only options at the moment.
*** “Get out! You are no son of mine. I have enough daughters! You are dead to me. Dead!” Stephanos stared up at the ceiling through the darkness of the living room lit only by the light of a full moon, his father‟s angry words echoing inside his head. He threw his arm up over his eyes, trying to block out the memory of the last time he had seen his father. Or to be more accurate, the back of his father and his grandfather as well.
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He remembered the tears welling in his mother‟s large dark eyes as she pulled the black shawl up over her head and turned her back on him. She had no other choice. Stephanos‟s father was the head of the Angelika household; his word was law. If Stephanos‟s father said his son was dead, then he was dead to the whole family. Even his little sisters. Three years ago, right after his return from attending university in the United States, Stephanos had big dreams. He‟d been an idealist, and having spent four years in Boston, he‟d found friends who understood and shared his lifestyle. He remembered his first kiss, his first lover, his first march. He‟d become used to existing in a circle of acceptance. He‟d become complacent, forgetting the old-world traditions, the demands of his family‟s religious precepts. He‟d thought they would accept him for who he was, who he had become. And that idealism had been shattered with the force of a nuclear explosion. Cautious online relationships became the only safe haven he had come to know. He‟d found a place for himself in Heraklion, a job that paid well with the possibility of advancement if he worked hard. As long as he pretended to be someone he was not. He dared not make friends, dared not let anyone get too close. Dared not let anyone he worked with discover that he was gay. The deep wounds left by the confrontation with his family took a long time to heal. If he‟d never lived the life of a gay man in Boston, perhaps it would have been different. He would have understood and accepted that he could never let anyone know he was gay. But he had tasted that freedom, and now it was a heavy burden— a suffocating burden—to live closeted once more. Before, there‟d been no real urgency to live openly as gay again. He could take the time to mend, to build his protective barriers. He was no longer the naive young man he had once been. And now there was Andrew, in the flesh, just on the other side of the closed bedroom door. Stephanos could still smell Andrew‟s aftershave. Having Andrew here, in his apartment, was probably one of the hardest things he would ever do. Because he wanted him, ached to be in that bed with him, making love to him.
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Doing all those things that he could only secretly fantasize about. It was just too tempting. He slid his hand down past the waistband of his pajama bottoms. His fingers curled around his cock and slowly he began to stroke up and down the engorged flesh. He stifled a moan. But even his fast breaths seemed loud in the silence of the dead of night. He shoved the blanket aside and sat up. Lifting up, he shoved his pajama bottoms down. He gripped his cock, jerked his hand up and down, hunched forward as he fantasized about fucking Andrew. He imagined himself removing Andrew‟s gold-rimmed glasses and setting them aside. Of pushing him to his knees. Of Andrew‟s lips closing around Stephanos‟s cock. Of Andrew sucking him, lips stretched tight, his saliva wetting his prick thoroughly. Andrew‟s hands gripping his balls in a way that kept Stephanos on edge, and his mouth and tongue worked Stephanos into a frenzy. Stephanos trembled as he worked his hand up and down the rigid length of his prick. He felt the wetness of seeping precum. Pressure built, drawing up his balls, his cock hot and slick. And then he exploded, shuddering in the aftermath, dropping forward, trying to control the moan of ecstasy. Trying to control his emotions and his fantasies. Quietly he padded into the bathroom, cleaned himself up, donned his pajama bottoms, and then stretched back out on the sofa. He had to wonder if he really was going to get any rest during the next couple of weeks. And it had nothing to do with the comfort of the sofa. He‟d worked hard to get where he was at his job as an IT specialist. He couldn‟t put all that in jeopardy just for the sake of a holiday romance, could he? His expertise was growing; his superiors seemed to have more confidence in his ability to take on more complex projects. He‟d dedicated himself to succeeding, worked late at night, gone in early in the mornings, trying to gain the upper edge. He didn‟t frequent the few gay nightclubs that were available in Heraklion. He didn‟t flaunt his lifestyle. When he did hook up, it was done quietly. But even he
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had to ask himself how long he thought he could stay below the radar. And did he really want to? Meeting Andrew brought everything back to the forefront of his thoughts. Was he ready to risk everything again and perhaps destroy any hope of achieving success in his profession? What would happen to him if he lost his job? He didn‟t have a family to go back to, no one to support him. He‟d isolated himself from a community that might have lent support. Again, he stared up at the ceiling, fixating on a small crack at the corner. Kind of like the shell he‟d erected around himself. He‟d have to call the super and have that attended to. But what about the crack in his own facade? Who was going to attend to that? And what would happen if he just let himself crack wide open and rebuilt himself into the man he yearned to be? Andrew‟s presence was making him see everything in a different light. Or was it that the loneliness had simply become too much to bear? Stephanos had a feeling when Andrew‟s visit was over, no matter the outcome, Stephanos would be changed. For better or worse was yet to be determined. Who knew that answering a simple email inquiry would lead to this? Stephanos closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. The dead of night was no time to make life-changing decisions. Perhaps morning would bring fresh insight.
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Chapter Three Andrew slept longer than he should have. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out and knew nothing until the smell of fresh coffee and croissants awoke him the next day. He looked at the clock and was amazed to find it was actually closer to noon than his usual time to rise which was nearer to six. He hauled himself out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and headed for the bathroom. The shower helped to wake him up, and after getting dressed and straightening the bedroom, he made his way to the kitchen. “Good morning. Sorry I slept so late,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I‟m usually an early morning riser. Guess I was more whipped by the flight and time change than I expected.” Stephanos looked like he should be part of the meal. Gorgeously relaxed in a pair of casual tan slacks and an open-necked blue knit shirt that seemed to deepen his complexion and the gleaming blue of his pupils, he looked scrumptious. And when he set aside the newspaper he‟d been reading and grinned, Andrew almost lost what breath he had in his lungs. Stephanos unfolded from the chair. “Sit, Andrew. I‟m not much the cook, but I ran out to the bakery around the corner and bought some fresh-baked croissants. Believe me, they will taste much better than my cooking.” He grabbed a mug from the cupboard, poured out a cup of coffee, and passed it to Andrew. “Sugar? Cream?” “Neither,” Andrew said, then cautiously drank down the coffee. Oh, yeah. Perfect. Hot, but not enough to cause serious injury to his tongue. “This is all I need to get me started. God, yes. This is damned good coffee.”
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“I learned how to make it when I was attending college in the US. I had a parttime job at a coffee house. One of the few things I can cook with any competency.” Andrew grabbed one of the croissants and then glanced up at Stephanos. “I didn‟t realize you‟d gone to college in the States. I don‟t know why I never asked you about that before. Your English is very good.” Stephanos shrugged. “We didn‟t exchange résumés or family histories. Both of us were interested in a different sort of history, I think.” “Or perhaps you just didn‟t want to talk about your own history?” Andrew suggested. That ripple of expressions crossed Stephanos‟s face again. Hesitancy, sorrow, anger…resolution. He dropped into the chair on the other side of the table. “It isn‟t a secret I wish to keep from you.” He sucked in a breath and then released it. “My family are devoted to their church, and it is not easy for them to accept that I am not like them. Especially for my father and my grandfather. They will not accept me as I am and have disowned me.” “I‟m sorry, Stephanos.” Andrew wanted to reach out for Stephanos as he had the night before, but he controlled his instincts. “I know it can go either way—some families can accept it; others can‟t. But some do come around. Maybe if you give them time?” He sounded like a man who knew what he was talking about, but he was a fake, and he knew it. Yes, his family accepted him, but for the Larsons it seemed more as though he was some sort of exotic trophy pulled out to show friends at parties. And the fact that he was trying to find out something about his birth parents? They just tied the two together now. Just another conversational piece for them to carry around to social get-togethers. Oh, our Andrew found his birth parents, you know. They’re Greek. And he’s gay. Did we mention that? Yeah, like he knew so much. “It‟s been three years,” Stephanos said. “It is as it will be. I cannot force their acceptance. Even as I cannot force myself to be as they would wish.”
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“Is that the reason you haven‟t told your coworkers that you‟re gay? You haven‟t told anyone there, have you?” It was a hunch. “Perhaps. As I told you, things are different here on Crete. The laws, they are getting better. But laws cannot change people‟s hearts and minds, nor their traditions. For now, things are what they are.” “You couldn‟t emigrate to the US? Things might be better for you there. You wouldn‟t need to be constantly looking over your shoulder. At least maybe not as much.” “My family is here. This is my home,” Stephanos said softly. Yet he seemed as alone as anyone Andrew had ever known. “I wish I could help you.” Stephanos smiled. “You have. Your friendship is very important to me. I have shared more with you than with most anyone I know. You are like a…” His words trailed away. Andrew gave him a lopsided grin. “A brother maybe?” The color of Stephanos‟s eyes deepened to the darkest shade of blue, almost black. Andrew could get lost in that look. “Not as a brother, no.” It was as though even the air in the room stilled. For a moment, Andrew stopped breathing. “Like what then?” Stephanos leaned closer; he slid a hand across the table. Andrew met him at the center, and their fingers twined together. Here in Stephanos‟s apartment, there was no need to worry about who might witness their connection. His fingers tightened on Stephanos‟s. “Like what?” he asked again. Stephanos leaned closer, and again Andrew mirrored his action until their mouths almost touched. “Perhaps we shall find out while you are here. Ne, Andrew?” “Yes, I think so. I think perhaps we might.” He felt Stephanos‟s breath against his face. He parted his lips, and in the next instant, their mouths were fastened
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together. Oh, God, he tasted so good. Just as good as he‟d tasted the night before. It wasn‟t a deeply blistering kiss that curled his toes. It was soft and seductive, lips brushing in tantalizing invitation. It was a promise of things to come. And all too brief. Stephanos pulled away first and reseated himself. “Anogia,” he said as though trying to ease the sexual tension between them. Andrew released a long breath. “Anogia,” he echoed, then picked up his mug and took a deep gulp of coffee in an attempt to steady himself. “I did some more searching on the computer before you got up. It may not be as easy to find out information on your ancestors as we would like.” “Why is that? What did you find out?” “Anogia has always had a turbulent history. But in 1944 the resistance fighters kidnapped a German general. In retaliation the village was burned to the ground and as many of the men as they could find were executed. The only building left standing was the church. The town was rebuilt, but I don‟t know if we will find any records of your family that might still survive. Any people who might know something may have moved to other cities or villages.” Andrew was disappointed. More than that, he was devastated. “Nothing?” “I don‟t know. Anogia is one of those mountain villages difficult to reach. It may be that we will find the church still has some baptismal or marriage records that may prove helpful in your search. Do not give up all hope. I just wanted you to be prepared for the worst, just in case.” “Well,” Andrew said, “I can‟t give up hope yet. I‟ve come too far.” Perhaps it would all be for nothing, but he still had to try. He looked at Stephanos. But then again, even if Anogia was a dead end, it might not all be for nothing. There was still Stephanos. And having met him could prove to be everything.
*** He wanted more—more than one or two kisses. For two days he‟d sported an unrelenting erection, aroused just by Andrew‟s nearness. But Stephanos was afraid
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to take it to the next step. They only had two weeks, and he was wasting time. But if it didn‟t work out, if Andrew left, then Stephanos would be alone once again. And right now that was something that he couldn‟t bear to think about, not as long as Andrew was near enough for him to reach out and touch. If he left and went to a hotel because they found the attraction was unsustainable, it would devastate Stephanos. If friendship was all there was to be between them, then Stephanos was willing to take whatever scraps were offered. Just as Andrew‟s e-mails had seemed a lifeline to Stephanos, his continuing presence in Stephanos‟s apartment was a treasure that he would not take for granted. Even if it was only for a short time. Icarus flew toward the sun and for a brief moment experienced a freedom no other man had ever known. Was the experience worth the price of his life? Perhaps that was something Stephanos would find out for himself. The flames of passion burned inside him with a fierceness that was already consuming him. He needed Andrew more than he needed to breathe. He was already that important to him. Stephanos left the apartment at dawn, before Andrew was up, in order to walk the silent streets and clear his head. He had to come to a decision; the sexual tensions that existed between him and Andrew had reached breaking point. He came to the steps of a Greek Orthodox Church. He often wound up here either late at night or early in the morning, when he was particularly conflicted. Something drew him to climb the steps and walk into this sacred space. Perhaps he would find that elusive answer he searched for in regard to his relationship with Andrew. He studied the Byzantine-inspired architecture, focused on the cross affixed above the archway, and then walked inside. He inhaled the incense-scented air, the aroma of polished wood, studied the rectangular stained-glass windows for a moment, then sat down in the last pew and allowed the peaceful spirituality of the atmosphere to envelop him. His father had lived by the creed of this church. Had Stephanos wandered so very far away? He closed his eyes and bowed his head, instinctively reciting the prayers he had memorized as a child. They were a
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comforting ritual, and slowly the tension eased. All the memories of his youth came flooding back. Bittersweet now. He opened his eyes and stared up at the cross mounted above the altar, waiting for an answer. He jumped when a hand settled on his shoulder. He glanced up, was shocked when he saw Andrew staring down at him. “What are you doing here?” he whispered as he slid deeper into the pew. “I heard you leave, and I decided to follow. Call it a hunch,” Andrew said quietly. Stephanos stared at the cross. “I don‟t know what to do,” he finally admitted out loud. “I think I am a coward.” Andrew reached for his hand, and Stephanos gripped it tightly. More tightly than he probably should have. “What do you want to do?” Andrew asked. Andrew‟s steadying touch felt right to Stephanos. His presence was steadfast and necessary to Stephanos‟s happiness and well-being. “I don‟t want to push you away. But I want more than friendship. I don‟t want to lose the camaraderie we have established and exchange it for something less…substantial and fleeting, Andrew. Our relationship is too important to me.” Andrew squeezed Stephanos‟s hand. “Realistically anything beyond friendship can‟t last. I have to return to the States in less than two weeks. But I‟ll admit that I want more even though I know it can‟t last.” “I don‟t know what to do. It seems I‟ve waited all my life for now—for meeting you. And now I‟m paralyzed. What if it‟s not right? We can‟t go back.” “Everything is a risk. You could have stayed in the mountains, with your family, and never known something of the world. Do you regret what you did?” “There are some days that I do, yes.” “Because you‟re alone now? But you know who you are, don‟t you? Better than you did before? Do you really want to go back to that naïveté?”
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It didn‟t take Stephanos long to consider his answer. “No. Even with being disowned, I couldn‟t change it if I wanted to. It‟s inside me, and I can‟t alter who I am, although some would think that would be an easy thing to do.” “Risks are part of life. They‟re scary, but they make us feel alive. Don‟t you think?” “Alive,” Stephanos repeated. “Yes, but I want more. I want to be free.” “Come home, Stephanos. I want to be free too. I want to fly. With you.” Stephanos looked at the angled fresco on the domed ceiling. Again, he thought of Icarus and how high he flew, how close to the sun he got. Was it worth it to feel the fire, to soar that close to a flame so bright? Wasn‟t there always a price to be paid? Perhaps wounds borne? Stephanos twisted around to look at Andrew. He smiled and then stood up. He got the answer he‟d come for. Maybe not in quite the fashion he‟d expected, but it was a response he embraced. The sun was just beginning to ascend in the sky as they made their way back to Stephanos‟s apartment, walking slowly. Stephanos still gripped Andrew‟s hand, afraid to let go. It was as they rounded the corner of Stephanos‟s building that he pulled back and dragged Andrew into his arms. It was at the corner of his street where he kissed Andrew, thrusting his tongue deep into Andrew‟s mouth. It was in the elevator that Andrew cupped Stephanos‟s face with both hands and claimed a kiss, tongues clashing, lips fused, until the bell dinged and the elevator doors silently slid open when it arrived at Stephanos‟s floor. But it was inside the apartment when the fire roared out of control. Hardly had the door slammed shut when the inferno consumed them with the hunger of suppressed lust now freed as a wildfire racing across a drought-ridden field too encompassing to even think of quenching before it consumed everything in its path. And more than anything, Stephanos wanted to be engulfed by the fires of Andrew‟s passion. Anogia and Andrew‟s search for his past would have to wait another day.
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In their own world now, sequestered from prying eyes, passion knew no bounds. Hands and tongues and bodies fused and mated. There was unleashed urgency to their movements, to their ravening hunger. And there would be no stopping the firestorm that erupted with full force.
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Chapter Four They didn‟t make it to the bedroom before shirts were flying, hands moving at the speed of light, shedding clothes in all directions. The living room was illuminated by the rising run. This wasn‟t secretive, not quick and dirty. It was passion and arousal in the full light of a new day. This was discovery and acceptance in all its varied forms. Shirtless, Andrew looked at Stephanos, pausing for just a breath as his hand curled around Stephanos‟s belt buckle. Everything slowed as they looked into each other‟s eyes. Carefully, the hiss of leather sliding across metal seemed loud as Andrew slid the belt strap free of its closure. Stephanos didn‟t move, waiting, letting Andrew take the lead. Hands on the waistband of Stephanos‟s pants, Andrew leaned forward and kissed Stephanos. His fingers curled around the stiff fabric and he dragged him forward. His tongue slipped inside Stephanos‟s mouth, exploring the moist recesses. Only then did Stephanos reach up to frame Andrew‟s face, anchoring him there. The sound of Stephanos‟s zipper sliding downward whispered into the early morning quiet. To Andrew, Stephanos tasted of youth and passion, a lingering essence of fragrant soap, a hint of religious incense and aged wood. He tasted of morning dew and subtle night melding together. He tasted of aroused fire, burning beneath Andrew‟s touch. Stephanos‟s tongue probed the inside of Andrew‟s mouth, thrusting deep, exploring Andrew‟s taste. Andrew slipped his hands inside Stephanos‟s briefs. Skin on skin as he slid his hand around to grip Stephanos‟s firm muscled ass cheeks. He
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drew him forward, chest-to-chest, cock-to-cock, bodies hard and unyielding. They drank of each other, mouths fastened together. Stephanos‟s hand stroked across Andrew‟s whiskered jaw, tongues dueling. Stephanos lowered one hand, trailed it across Andrew‟s chest, causing him to shudder. He arrowed it down to his lover‟s waist, wiggled his fingers inside the waistband of Andrew‟s pants. With his other hand he cupped the back of his neck. He plunged his hand deeper inside Andrew‟s trousers to grip his ass. Andrew‟s mouth tracked kisses along Stephanos‟s darkly shadowed jaw, tasting the maleness of rugged flesh, tasting his beautiful Greek lover. He withdrew his hand from Stephanos‟s ass, sucked his finger into his mouth, making it wet, then lowered his hand once again, playing at the crack in his ass, even as Stephanos mirrored his actions. Penetration was simultaneous, stinging, and sweet. Even as he lodged his finger into Stephanos‟s tight hole, Stephanos did the same to him. It was moans of excitement that now lit up the atmosphere. Andrew‟s cock, thick with arousal, his balls drawn up close against his body, readied for release. Stephanos withdrew his finger as though he could tell the exact moment when Andrew was ready to orgasm. Andrew released the breath imprisoned somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. He groaned. He slid his finger from Stephanos‟s rectum. Stephanos stepped back without taking his eyes off Andrew. He toed off his sneakers, then shrugged his pants and briefs to the floor, stepping out of them. Andrew drank in the body of a god, the beauty of an angel. Short-cropped black curly hair, sharp angles to his face, chest solid, yet not broad and big, but firm and chiseled. Andrew‟s gaze followed the vee of black curly hair down, down to Stephanos‟s cock rising from the thatch of curly short hairs. Black hair covered his thighs, muscular and defined. More beautiful than Adonis, more mythic than the fated Icarus. The aura of dawning golden light enveloped him and made him far too irresistible. He was the most beautiful thing Andrew had ever seen. And it was a moment Andrew would never forget.
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Andrew dropped his pants and boxers and then waited as Stephanos took his time looking at Andrew. Those gorgeous blue eyes studied him head to toe. Andrew saw the glimmer of heavy sexual acknowledgement when his attention settled on Andrew‟s cock. Daylight hid nothing—not a flaw, not a strand of pale curls, not the whiskers of a jaw yet untrimmed. A hint of a smile lit up Stephanos‟s eyes. He kicked free of his clothing and turned toward the bedroom. Andrew admired the breadth of his shoulders, the strong back that tapered to a narrow waist, the sexy, self-confident strut that drew Andrew‟s attention to the tight muscles of an ass that Andrew couldn‟t wait to fuck. Andrew awoke from his sexual trance and followed Stephanos. The drapes in the bedroom were still drawn closed, and it took a moment for Andrew to adjust to the deeper shadows in the room. Close and intimate, a stark contrast from the bright sunlight in the living room. He stopped at the doorway, watching as Stephanos pulled condoms and lube from the drawer next to the bed. Stephanos twisted around to look at him. That heavy aroused gaze pulled Andrew forward and into the bedroom, across the thick rug and to Stephanos‟s side. Without turning away Stephanos reached around and drew the already rumpled comforter even farther back, exposing the white sheets beneath. Then he leaned forward and possessed Andrew‟s lips, his muscular arms curled around Andrew. Before he knew it they were prone on the bed. Stephanos pushed Andrew farther up and more fully onto his back, spreading Andrew across the cool sheets. He then positioned himself between Andrew‟s legs, aroused cocks sliding together like earthy primitive twigs chafed one to the other in order to a ignite a fire. “Grab the rail above your head,” Stephanos said. Andrew had no thought of denying the demand and reached up to grab the smooth ebony wooden rails of the headboard. Stephanos reached for the lube. Andrew spread his legs wider. Stephanos dragged down one of the pillows and positioned it beneath Andrew‟s hips.
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Andrew watched as Stephanos squirted lube into his hand, and then Andrew shuddered as he pressed the tube to his hole and squirted more of the lube into his rectum. First one of Stephanos‟s fingers penetrated him. Then two. The sound of Stephanos‟s fingers sliding through the squishy lube, pressing deeply inside him, the sucking sound as he withdrew, then pressed inward again, almost had Andrew coming right then and there. Stephanos withdrew his fingers. He reached for a condom, and Andrew knew this was the moment he‟d waited for since he debarked the plane. From that first moment when he saw Stephanos holding the sign. Stephanos came back to him, centered his cock at Andrew‟s entrance, pressed forward slowly. Slipping past the tight ring of muscle, he lodged inside Andrew‟s rectum. “Don‟t let go of the rails,” Stephanos said, even as he pushed deeper into Andrew‟s passage, widening and stretching him, the burn of penetration driving him higher and higher. The roll of Stephanos‟s hips like a dancer, slow and deep, drove his rigid prick deeper and deeper into Andrew‟s channel. The rhythm, the depth of penetration—this was a man who knew how to fuck, how to please, how to give as much as he took. Ripples of chest muscle undulated as he fucked Andrew. Nipples twisted into tight brown beads. Stephanos closed his eyes; his jaw slackened; his head dropped back. He squirted more lube, and the sounds of fucking grew more intense. The scent of sex filled Andrew‟s senses. He thrust his hips into counter rhythm to Stephanos‟s motions. The pleasure was all-consuming as Stephanos maintained the steady, penetrating fucking. Sweat trickled across Andrew‟s chest, pooling at the center. He gripped the rails of the bed tighter. Stephanos slowed the rhythm of fucking, making Andrew feel every single inch of penetration each and every time. He began to shake with emotion. His nails dug into the wood of the bed as Stephanos changed the rhythm.
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“Look at me,” Stephanos said. His cockhead teased at Andrew‟s sphincter. Stephanos‟s intense concentration connected Andrew to him. Once locked, he very slowly undulated his hips and screwed his cock into Andrew‟s ass. Everything
stopped.
The
intense
sensations
sent
Andrew
into
the
stratosphere. His breathing slowed and deepened, almost trancelike as he absorbed every thick inch, the feeling of Stephanos‟s prick, the sounds of his lube-slick channel hungrily sucking Stephanos‟s cock with each grinding undulation. Stephanos‟s navy blue pupils glittered through slitted eyelids as he watched Andrew as though knowing exactly what was going through his mind. Watching him, waiting for just the right moment. “Fuck!” Andrew screamed as he jerked upward. Stephanos rammed forward. Andrew came with a powerful force he‟d never experienced before. For one moment everything went black. And then just as he came back into himself, he heard Stephanos‟s groan, his cock buried inside Andrew as he climaxed. It was long moments before Stephanos finally slid his softened prick from inside Andrew. Andrew uncurled his hands from around the bedrails. He dropped back onto the bed. He couldn‟t move. His limbs felt like gelatin, muscles quivering. Stephanos dropped down beside him. Andrew turned to look at him. “I‟ve never been fucked like that before.” Stephanos smiled. “I‟ve never fucked like that before.” He placed a hand on Andrew‟s sweat-soaked chest. “I‟ve never wanted to give so much of myself to a man before.” It was Andrew‟s turn to smile, albeit tiredly. As tired as he was, and knowing he wasn‟t up to it, he found himself wanting to do it all over again.
*** It was an even more intimate experience than Stephanos had expected. The connection with Andrew far exceeded what Stephanos had anticipated. He tried to
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focus on the newspaper, on the weather predictions for the next couple of days. But all he could think of was Andrew and the lovemaking they‟d shared the day before. He was already in over his head, and when it came time for Andrew to leave, it was not going to be easy to let him go—to go back to the online relationship that had been established between them over the last months. He hadn‟t meant for this to happen. Hadn‟t meant to become so…involved. But there was no going back. And he‟d known the consequences at some level before it had started. “Good morning,” Andrew said as he walked into the room, pulling Stephanos‟s attention from his deep soul-searching endeavor. Stephanos glanced up from the paper, and a tight fist gripped his heart. He remembered the feel of Andrew in his arms, of fucking him. And later, being fucked by him. He remembered the feel of Andrew‟s golden whiskers tracking a path down his abdomen. And the breathless sensation of having his cock sucked so amazingly deep by Andrew. He remembered waking in the black hours of early morning and making love yet again. Of not being able to get enough of his lover, of not wanting morning to arrive. He‟d then woken at five, donning his running clothes, and left the apartment, hoping to get some clarity. Yet even after running what seemed like miles and miles, he still couldn‟t get Andrew out of his head. Nor the scent of him off his skin. After one night of passionate lovemaking, the man was now embedded deeply into Stephanos‟s psyche. Andrew grinned as he sat down. He pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. He reached for one of the croissants, ripped it apart, and wolfed the smaller pieces down. He looked quizzically at Stephanos. “Are you all right?” Stephanos blinked and shook himself out of his reverie. “Yes. Would you like some orange juice? I picked some up when I was out this morning.” “I thought I heard you leave early.” “Ne, I went running.” “Do you run every morning?” Andrew asked.
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“Most mornings. Some days I go to the gym instead.” Stephanos made to rise, but Andrew laid a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?” Andrew repeated. “I mean…after last night?” “Are you?” Stephanos asked. “I‟ll admit, I hadn‟t expected…” His words trailed away. “I know. I think it is too fast. When you leave…” “Yeah. This complicates things.” He stood, meeting Stephanos eye to eye. The kiss they shared was unavoidable. It was combustible. Stephanos found himself moving backward, steered by Andrew‟s hands, pushed up against the counter even as Andrew yanked Stephanos‟s shirt from his waistband. He bunched the shirt up, his hands going beneath to fondle Stephanos‟s erect nipples. He grinned at Stephanos. “Your jaw‟s smooth this morning. You feel good. And you smell delicious.” “Soap. That‟s all.” Andrew inhaled deeply, then claimed Stephanos‟s mouth once again, his tongue diving deep between Stephanos‟s lips. Stephanos couldn‟t resist this man. If Andrew wanted to fuck right here, right now, on the kitchen floor, Stephanos was more than ready to accommodate him. His arms came around Andrew, drawing him closer, leaning into the kiss, trapping Andrew‟s exploring hands between them. Finally, Andrew pulled away. “We keep this up, we‟re never getting out of your apartment. You have no idea how much I want to fuck you again.” Stephanos stepped to the side, took a deep breath, rearranged his shirt, and tried to control his raging lust. “I know exactly what you mean.” He took another deep breath to steady himself. “I think today we can try to make the drive to Anogia. If we wait, the weather may turn, and we will never be able to get there.” “I really did pick the wrong time of year for this trip, didn‟t I?” Andrew shook his head. “But something told me it had to be now. I‟m not a man who normally does
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things like this on impulse. I make a plan. But with this trip, it was just something driving me to do it now. Crazy, wasn‟t it?” “Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see. Nevertheless, I think we should do this today if you still want to. We wait any longer, we won‟t be able to do it at all. So far this December the weather has been mild, but I don‟t expect it will hold much longer.” “I have to do it, Stephanos. You understand? I have to know, one way or the other.” “It‟s all right, Andrew. Greeks know exactly how important family ties are. And how deep they go.” Stephanos saw an expression of sympathy cross Andrew‟s face. Stephanos turned away from the pity he saw there. He busied himself with the dishwasher for a time before facing Andrew again. “Mount Psiloritis is the highest mountain on Crete.” He grinned at Andrew. “It figures that the town you must visit is in one of the most difficult areas to get to this time of year. But we shall try.” Andrew placed a hand on Stephanos‟s arm. “Thank you, my friend. I don‟t know what I would have done without you.” Something twisted inside Stephanos. A moment of wondering if that need for Andrew to discover his roots was the total of the foundation for Andrew‟s attraction to Stephanos. Was it the reason he allowed Stephanos to become his lover, even if only for the short length of his visit? Did he think it would make Stephanos more amenable to making the trip up the mountain this time of year? Stephanos tried to fight the demons of doubt that attempted to twist this new relationship. He wanted to be with Andrew, and for whatever the reason, Andrew wanted to be with him. Their time together was short, and Stephanos planned to make the best of it. Attempting to decipher what motives might lie behind their deepening relationship served no purpose. Today was what mattered.
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Truth be told, Stephanos already felt a blessing had been laid upon his feelings for Andrew. And that alone was something he would not question, come what may. “Come,” he said. “We should get going.” The sooner Andrew had the answers he‟d come to Crete looking for, the quicker Stephanos might understand Andrew‟s true feeling for Stephanos. As always, good or bad, he wanted to know the truth. He cared too much already not to have honesty in the relationship.
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Chapter Five The mountain drive over the switchback roadway that would take them to the village of Anogia was a nail-biting adventure. Narrow roads with no guardrails. Craggy and rugged, dangerous, especially this time of year, yet exhilarating. He prayed to God they didn‟t meet another vehicle coming from the other direction. The small mountain villages they had passed through piqued the archeologist in Andrew. Locked within these mountains were the ghostly remnants of ancient Minoan civilization as well as the purported birthplace of Zeus. The most amusing part of the trip was when they were stopped by a small herd of mountain goats demanding the right of way and taking their time about it. Andrew turned to study Stephanos‟s profile as he focused on the dangerous curves in the road. Perhaps it wasn‟t strictly the rugged terrain and history of the land that tugged at Andrew; perhaps it was the company of the younger man behind the wheel of the car who reminded him so acutely that once this island was ruled by the belief in gods and goddesses. Stephanos seemed to feel the heat of Andrew‟s gaze and quickly glanced at him and grinned before turning his attention to navigating the curvy road. “It makes you catch your breath, ne?” “Oh yeah,” Andrew said, his focus locked on Stephanos. “Definitely makes me catch my breath.” In Stephanos he could see the stamp of ancient Minoan rulers. Dusky skin, a hawklike intensity in his amazing blue eyes, a firm set to his lips. Andrew‟s attention turned to Stephanos‟s hands, long fingers curled around the steering wheel, expertly maneuvering the car over dangerous roads.
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They traveled higher and higher, and when Andrew looked out over the boulder-strewn fields, he could easily believe himself spiraling back to another time. Where resistance fighters with rifles slung across their shoulders hid in these high craggy areas. Courageous men who fought for their freedom from the Turks, the Venetians, the Germans. So many people who valiantly resisted and lost their lives. Stephanos had the blood running through his veins of those men. And so did Andrew, although he‟d never really understood what that meant before. “I am sorry you don‟t come in the spring. Crete is beautiful at that time. Or summer.” Stephanos‟s words brought Andrew back to the present. “We could swim in the sea. I know some very good coves where we could be private. You would like the water here.” Andrew‟s mind exploded with the possibilities of that image. “You‟re making me regret that I didn‟t wait until summer to visit. But I just wanted to take the first opportunity. I‟ve been searching for years. If I put this visit off again, I had the feeling I‟d never get here. I couldn‟t wait.” And then I wouldn’t have met you. But he didn‟t say that last part out loud. “I‟m glad you came, Andrew. It is an adventure, ne? Perhaps it would not be so bad to be snowbound in Anogia for a few days maybe?” Andrew dared not reach across the space between them as much as he wanted to. Dared not cause Stephanos to lose his concentration on the road. But oh, how he wanted to. Instead, he leaned back and stared out the window. “No, I don‟t think it would be so bad,” he said. It was late in the day when they finally arrived in the village, having stopped along the way to enjoy the local color and cuisine. Too late to start asking questions, they headed directly to the hotel. Stephanos had called ahead to reserve a room at a quaint hotel near the square at Agios Georgios. “Mr. Angelika, you are him, ne? We speak on the phone.” A tiny older woman with graying hair and an animated smile rushed forward to greet them as they entered the small tiled foyer of the hotel. Small but clean, newly painted in bright
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colors of white and sky blue, the hotel and the hotel‟s owner were very welcoming. “Come sit,” she said, waving toward a small alcove with a ceramic blue and whitetiled table and several black wrought-iron chairs. “I bring you some of our special Greek coffee and some cookies. My son will take your bags up to your room. You rest and we talk. Ne?” Even as weary as they were after the drive, politeness would not have allowed them to refuse the invitation. It was nice to sit on a chair that wasn‟t moving after the long drive. “Do you have your mother‟s picture?” Stephanos asked. “I brought several copies, just in case.” Andrew fished one of the copies out of his pocket and handed it to Stephanos just as the proprietress returned carrying a tray with two china cups and saucers and a plate of delicious-looking homemade cookies. “Here we are,” she said as she set down the tray and then drew up another chair and made herself comfortable. Her feet barely touched the floor. “My name is Eleni.” She held out a hand, and first Stephanos shook hands with her, and then Andrew did so. “Is nice to meet you both. I have not been to Heraklion in some time. So many people now. I like the quieter life here.” “Did you grow up in Anogia?” Andrew asked. Eleni‟s expression clouded. “No. After the Nazis, my family—what was left of my family—moved to Heraklion. It was too hard. But I come to one of the festivals, and I meet a boy.” She laughed as she reminisced. “Music he played was too good. It is how he courted me. Perhaps I fall in love with his music first, ne? Ah, well, he is gone now, but I stay here. It‟s a good place. So what brings you to Anogia. Our music? The mountain? Or is it to see where Zeus was born?” She waved a hand. “Yes, I know. Many say he was born elsewhere, but I know it was here, in our cave. You mind me, you will know it if you visit it. You cannot help but feel the presence of the old gods in that place.”
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Andrew could have sat there and listened to Eleni all night. He found her fascinating. His weariness from the trip up the mountain seemed to dissipate. “We have come specifically for none of those reasons. My friend”—Stephanos indicated Andrew—“has come all the way from the United States to find his family. He was orphaned as an infant, and he wanted to find his relatives if there are any still living.” Eleni studied Andrew. “You know your family comes from Anogia?” “I don‟t.” Stephanos slid the photograph across the table to him. “I have this picture of her. On the back of the original, it states that it was taken in Anogia. I‟m just trying to follow up on a lead.” Eleni took the picture from him and studied it closely. “Hmm.” She handed it back to him. “I wish I could help you. I did not return to Anogia until 1979. I was not here when this picture was taken, I think.” She patted his hand. “Perhaps you ask around tomorrow? Others may remember her.” “Thanks, Eleni,” Andrew said. Suddenly, he was feeling tired once again. He couldn‟t possibly have imagined it would be that easy. Eleni stood. “Well, I will show you to your room. I hope you find everything you are looking for in Anogia.” Andrew and Stephanos followed Eleni up to the second floor and into a rather spacious and altogether welcoming room that looked more like a small efficiency apartment than a hotel room. A fire was already burning in the fireplace, and the room appeared as welcoming as they could possibly have asked for. There were two double beds neatly made up, and near the fireplace was a comfortable-looking settee. “I hope you are happy with your stay,” Eleni said. “And that you find everything you are looking for. In the morning you may find breakfast downstairs. Coffee, tea, croissants, pastries. Not so fancy, but filling.” “Thank you, Eleni. You‟ve been most gracious,” Andrew said.
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Once the door closed behind Eleni, shutting out the rest of the world, Andrew turned to Stephanos, who stood before the fireplace. “This is…more than I expected.” Stephanos put his bag onto the other bed, and to Andrew it seemed to make a statement without words spoken. Andrew watched as Stephanos silently unpacked his suitcase. “Is something wrong?” Andrew asked.
*** “There‟s nothing wrong. It‟s been a long day.” What could Stephanos say? That the ghosts of his family weighed heavily on him in this small village that reminded him of home? He needed time to regain his balance and come to terms with his own past. Memories always had a habit of hitting him unexpectedly. He thought he had put it behind him. It had been years since the confrontation. He‟d gone on with his life. But now he realized he‟d been living in a kind of limbo since that day. Maybe living wasn‟t the right word, because he really hadn‟t been doing more than existing in a vacuum. Walking lightly, trying not to make waves. In essence suppressing who he was, afraid something would break if he made the wrong move. Until he‟d met Andrew. He couldn‟t help reaching out; he‟d been desperate for some kind of connection. And Andrew had been there. He glanced at Andrew as he began to pull clothes out of his bag, rummaged through for his razor. How had things gotten so screwed up? When he‟d been attending college in the States, he hadn‟t had to hide who he was. And that had given him the courage to confront his family when he‟d come back to Crete. What a mess that had been. And because of it, he‟d slunk back into his shell like a kicked puppy, almost afraid to feel anything. But he felt something for Andrew. It was new and exciting, and it made him feel alive in a way he hadn‟t felt in a very long time. Why was he fighting it? He was a man grown, not a child still pinned beneath the thumb of his father and his rigid religious beliefs. Why couldn‟t he lose that baggage? His father would never
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understand, never accept who Stephanos was. And if Stephanos kept on this way, he‟d never be happy if he was only ever trying to find a way to gain his father‟s respect and acceptance. It would always be like a raw, festering wound, never allowed to heal. Yes, there would always be a scar, always a reminder, an ache of yearning, but did he need to forever let him rule his life? Suddenly, he swung around to face Andrew. Andrew was bent over his suitcase, pulling out notebooks, his laptop, his cell phone. They were lined up neatly across the sea-green-colored comforter. Gold-rimmed glasses rested in an open case on the simple nightstand next to the bed. Clothing neatly piled in a second row. Andrew brushed a piece of lint from a folded pair of blue jeans. It made Stephanos smile. It felt good to have someone to share things with. It was good not to be alone. Not to be afraid. He walked across the room. Andrew turned a questioning eye on Stephanos. Even though the relationship was new, Stephanos was comfortable with his lover. It felt right—all of it. And he was an ass to waste this time when he could be discovering whether there was more to it than simply a holiday fling. And he wanted Andrew right this minute. Wanted him skin to skin. He laid a hand on Andrew‟s shoulder and swung him around. Without giving him a chance to say anything, he kissed him. He felt the surprise as Andrew stiffened for just a moment, then relaxed into the embrace. He opened his mouth, and Stephanos thrust his tongue deep inside, fusing their mouths together. He wound his arms tighter around Andrew and slowly drew him back across the room toward his bed. He dragged Andrew‟s shirt over his head and flung it aside. Sneakers toed off. Hands tangled; belt buckles loosened; jeans and underwear were shoved quickly to the tiled floor. Then it was Andrew who turned the aggressor, shoving Stephanos onto the bed. By what seemed like silent consent, no words were exchanged, no sounds uttered beyond the harsh quick breaths of arousal.
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Stephanos yanked off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. He arched and stifled a groan as Andrew‟s mouth fastened onto a nipple and tugged. Blindly, he reached inside his opened bag, searching frantically, and then relaxed as he found what he was looking for. Condoms and lube. Then he shoved the bag aside, heard the clatter when the razor hit the tiled floor, loud in the sexually charged atmosphere. The fire in the fireplace crackled; a log dropped. Andrew‟s hands explored Stephanos‟s chest. He raised his head, looking into Stephanos‟s eyes. Firelight flickered across his expression, dark and light, the glitter of flames in his steam-filled gaze. Andrew‟s hands fastened onto Stephanos‟s hips, controlling him, adjusting him. Stephanos‟s stiff cock bobbed against his stomach. Andrew lifted up, kept eye contact with Stephanos even as he cupped Stephanos‟s balls, lightly squeezing as he forced him back upon the bed. Stephanos caught his breath as Andrew dipped his head and enclosed Stephanos‟s prick inside his mouth, sucking him deep, even as he stroked his fingers over Stephanos‟s heavy sac. Stephanos wasn‟t sure how much he could take. He wanted to come. He grabbed for a condom. Andrew let Stephanos‟s cock pop free. The reddened shaft glistened with Andrew‟s saliva. Fingers tangled as Andrew reached for the condom. Palms flattened, the condom packet pressed tightly between their flesh. Fingers curled and gripped. Andrew moved upward; his cock brushed against Stephanos. He thrust his hips. Stephanos met the action. Andrew claimed Stephanos‟s other hand, gripping his fingers forcefully. Slowly and steadily he rocked against Stephanos. The feel of hard flesh, the grinding of bodies, legs twining as Stephanos felt like he was lifting toward the skies. A steady soar upward, wound tightly—tighter and tighter. His emotions honed to a sharp edge. This was what he wanted. This was what he‟d yearned for, for so very long. He felt the emotion tighten his throat, felt the burn behind his eyes. He wanted to draw this moment out, keep it, hold on to it for as long as possible. Andrew stared down at him, watching him. His grip tightened on Stephanos‟s hands, crushing the
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condom packet until Stephanos could feel the rolled ridge against his flesh. Andrew slid against Stephanos, muscled thighs and strong arms keeping Stephanos stationary beneath him. Andrew lowered his head and caught Stephanos‟s lower lip between his teeth. Stephanos dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Andrew followed the momentum. Stephanos focused on mingled sensations. The logs crackled and sparked in the fireplace. Andrew turned his attention to Stephanos‟s chest. His tongue swirled over flesh, tasting and biting, drawing even more from Stephanos. Stephanos trembled beneath Andrew‟s onslaught. The headiness was beyond belief. He wanted to give Andrew whatever he wanted, anything he wanted. Nothing mattered but pleasing his lover. Nothing existed beyond feeling Andrew‟s body fused to his own. He wanted to tell Andrew what he was feeling and parted his lips to do so. But Andrew somehow anticipated and pressed his lips to Stephanos‟s, halting any words that might have escaped, that might have broken the moment. He felt the hard crush of Andrew‟s stiff nipples grinding into his chest. Short curls that married to his own as their cocks flirted closer, both heavy with arousal. And still Andrew wouldn‟t release Stephanos, keeping him locked to Andrew with hands and legs, the weight of him, bearing down on him. Stephanos smelled a hint of Andrew‟s soap, the faintest echo of cologne, the darker scent of lust. Mixed with the aroma of burning logs, of heat, the atmosphere of Crete. An ancient land, earthy and immortal. All of it was here in this moment, in Stephanos‟s mind and body, filling his lungs, engorging his cock. Taking him far beyond the real world. Then suddenly he was flying, breaking apart as he climaxed. He couldn‟t breathe as he bucked beneath Andrew. Again, Andrew claimed Stephanos‟s lips, thrust his tongue deep inside his mouth, claiming the cry that Stephanos wouldn‟t have been able to stifle on his own. Bodies stuck together, the scent of completion overpowering even as Stephanos soared, yet still bound to earth in Andrew‟s arms.
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Chapter Six There was something different about this morning. Something exciting and fresh and new. Andrew stared out the window at the rough, craggy landscape that almost seemed like he‟d traveled back in time to an ancient land. His land, a world that seemed to bring him alive for the first time in his life. His whole life seemed to have been focused on bringing him to this moment, to this place. He turned his head and looked at the man still asleep, sprawled across the wrinkled sheets. A hint of sheet just managing to offer a veneer of modesty to Andrew‟s dusky-skinned lover. God, he loved Stephanos‟s body. He loved the earthy scent of the man. He walked back over to the bed and pinched a corner of the sheet, peeling it away. He just stood there drinking in the beauty of a Michelangelo creation. He was totally absorbed in the aura of this wonderful lover. Everything he‟d originally thought he‟d come to Crete to search for paled in significance. His growing attraction to Stephanos seemed to be all-consuming. He wanted to forget everything else outside this room, forget a world even existed, and just stop time right now. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the image of the small unopened packet lying next to the bed. He reached down to pick it up. He couldn‟t help grinning as he recalled the night before. He stood there, the condom package pressed against the palm of his hand as in his mind he replayed the intense encounter of the night before. Which only gave rise to a need to repeat it. He caught his breath and almost groaned as Stephanos rolled onto his back and stretched, just about killing Andrew as a swell of lust swamped through him. Stephanos sighed, lips parted, his roughened jaw a texture that Andrew wanted to stroke. His cock bobbed as though in agreement. Stephanos
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relaxed, legs spread, one leg slightly elevated, his cock sporting an early morning erection, rising from the nest of dark springy curls. An ebony trail that tracked up across his abdomen. Andrew dropped into a chair, his gaze riveted to the man on the bed, even as he lifted a hand and encircled his stiff rod. An orgasm surged at full throttle that was not going to politely wait for attention. Andrew rode his hand up and down his ruddy shaft, stroked his thumb over the leaking slit as he considered all the ways he wanted to fuck his lover. And all the ways he wanted to be fucked by Stephanos. The feel of Stephanos‟s cock boring into him as he clung to the bedrail in Stephanos‟s apartment. The feel of his flesh the night before as they rubbed skin-to-skin. It wasn‟t long before he was spurting into his hand. Hunched over in the chair, he heard Stephanos‟s deep chuckle. Glancing up, he saw the man‟s eyes glittering through half-mast lids, his hand wrapped around his erection. “You should have woken me,” Stephanos said as he jerked his hand up and down his prick. Andrew had no voice to answer him. His hand was wet and sticky from his climax as he watched Stephanos with an intensity that should have burned a hole right through the man. He just shook his head. How could he get so aroused so quickly time and time again? Just by looking at Stephanos. He jumped up from the chair. “We‟re never going to get out of this room if we keep this up,” he muttered as he stalked into the small bathroom. He had just finished washing his hair, his body slick with soap, when Stephanos stepped into the shower. “Why waste water?” he murmured and then kissed Andrew‟s shoulder. Oh God, we really aren’t going to get out of this room. “Soap me up,” Stephanos said in a deep, gravelly voice. “Make me nice and slippery.” It wasn‟t long before they were both wet and slippery and Andrew was leaning against the wall, legs spread. He looked down and saw a torn condom wrapper swirling in the water at his feet. He felt the head of Stephanos‟s prick pressed
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against the ring of tight muscle. Andrew gulped as Stephanos‟s prick lodged inside him. Between the water raining down over him, and Stephanos‟s slow, deep thrusts, the measure of time simply disappeared. He closed his eyes, fully immersed in the sensations. Imagining a waterfall, warriors fucking, a land that required honed instincts in order to survive. Too much and never enough. Absolutely amazing. Stephanos‟s fingers bit into Andrew‟s hips as he climaxed. He leaned against Andrew‟s back, then wrapped his arms around Andrew. Andrew couldn‟t move. Stephanos‟s softening prick slipped from inside Andrew. He reached back and stayed Stephanos from moving away. Suds were rinsed clean, the water cooled. Andrew turned off the spigots. And still neither of them turned to leave. Until Andrew‟s stomach growled. Deep-bellied laughter erupted as Stephanos unwrapped his arms from around Andrew. “I believe breakfast is in order.” He got out of the shower and tossed Andrew a towel. “Yeah, I think you‟re right.” Once they were dressed, it was a difficult transition, moving from the sanctuary of their room, to the main part of the hotel. Suddenly the world started spinning once again and time moved on. He almost reached for Stephanos‟s hand as they entered the foyer of the hotel, but then he stayed the instinct. This wasn‟t Boston, nor was it even Heraklion. It was a small village, probably a lot like the one Stephanos had grown up in. “Good morning,” Eleni called gaily. “Come sit and have some breakfast. Coffee is ready. It looks to be a beautiful day. Perhaps you will find the answers you seek today, ne?” Handmade pastries and Greek coffee woke them and set them up for the day. He glanced across at Stephanos. It looked as though his thoughts had turned inward, in deep concentration. His expression set, appearing not nearly as relaxed as he had seemed just an hour ago back in their room.
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“Is something wrong?” Andrew asked and then realized it was the exact same question he‟d asked Stephanos the previous night. Just before they‟d made love. Stephanos took a sip of his coffee, and his expression changed. “Anogia reminds me of the village where I grew up. That‟s all.” As Andrew had surmised it did. He‟d been right about that. “I thought it might. Does it make it harder for you?” Stephanos shrugged. “In some ways, yes. But if I have learned anything from these days with you, it is that I must move on, ne? It is time. They are ancient traditions, and it is not so easy to meld the old with the new. I hadn‟t realized how difficult, and perhaps I should have. Maybe I am just an idealist. Or maybe just self-absorbed. Because I want something so badly, must I expect everyone to give up their beliefs? Perhaps it is I who am wrong to expect so much change from others in order to make my life easier.” Andrew‟s heart broke for Stephanos. He wanted to hug Stephanos, to let him know he wasn‟t alone. Nor was he wrong to want his family to love him just for who he was. Would Andrew‟s life have been any different if he had grown up with people of his blood rather than a very cosmopolitan family in Boston? His life could have been very different. He thought carefully before he answered Stephanos. “I don‟t believe it‟s wrong to be yourself. Change doesn‟t always come easy, but you aren‟t wrong to want to be who you are. Would you have been happy to keep the fact you‟re gay secret from your family? Never able to share all of who you are with them. Always afraid of making one wrong step and they‟d discover your secret? Would that have been better?” It was a long time before Stephanos responded. He looked beyond Andrew, up toward the clear, brilliantly blue sky. “Sometimes I don‟t know. Being here, with you, I don‟t know anymore. Is it selfish to want to simply live as I am? Does God really not want to accept us?” He shook his head and stared down at the table. “Do you believe that, Stephanos? Or do you just think you have to believe that because man‟s religion tries to force that belief?”
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“That church where you found me the other night. I go there a lot. I think I talk to God one-on-one, you know? And I don‟t feel as though he‟s cast me out because I‟m gay.” He looked at Andrew and smiled. And Andrew saw some of the light in Stephanos‟s eyes return. “And he guided you to me, didn‟t he?” He straightened his shoulders. “Enough self-pitying. Today, we see what we can find about your family, ne? Perhaps this is a day your questions will be answered.” Philosophical questions were a bitch. There were never straightforward answers, not really. It all ended up being supposition. They each picked up their empty plates and headed toward the kitchen. “Ah, thank you, my friends. Very kind of you to do this,” Eleni said as she met them near the center of the foyer. “I will take them. You enjoy your day, and when you return, you tell Eleni all about it. I shall ask around today about your family. Perhaps somehow we will have some revelation, yes.” As they stepped out onto the street, Andrew was surprised when Stephanos took his hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed the knuckles. “Thank you, Andrew.” “I haven‟t done anything.” “You are teaching me to spread my wings. It‟s exhilarating and scary. But you give me courage to try.” Andrew tightened his fingers around Stephanos‟s hand. How was he going to leave this man when it came time for him to return to Boston? He hadn‟t known what he would find when he came to Crete, but he certainly hadn‟t expected it to be love. Was this love? And if so, how the hell were they ever going to have a chance at making this relationship work? Stephanos released Andrew‟s hand and grinned. “We are fortunate men, my friend. The gods have given us a beautiful winter day. Let‟s see what Anogia has to tell us.”
***
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Stephanos spent the day trying to help Andrew find the answers he‟d come to Crete to discover. Anogia was not that large a community. They made a circle of the village on foot, dipping into local shops, several of the shops that dealt with local crafters. They mingled in the Agios Georgios square and even stopped by the folk art museum and several art studios. Mid-afternoon found them in one of the tavernas. Adjusting to the dim interior, they found a table, and Stephanos ordered two glasses of ouzo and a plate of appetizers that included octopus, sardines, clams, and zucchini. Several older men dressed in the traditional black shirts were seated at a far table, a bottle of ouzo at the center. “I‟m sorry we have not been able to discover more about your family, Andrew. Perhaps tomorrow,” Stephanos said. He could feel Andrew‟s disappointment. Andrew shrugged, then sipped from the glass of liquor. “No matter what, this trip has been important,” he said. Stephanos saw the look in his eyes and understood the underlying meaning. Loud laughter filled the taverna, and Stephanos looked up to see one of the men had produced a lyra. It was a pearshaped instrument, carved from aged wood, resembling one he owned. Stephanos hadn‟t played the instrument in a very long time. When he‟d left for university his grandfather had given it to him. Playing it reminded him too much of his youth and his family. But suddenly he reconsidered, and an urge to hold a lyra in his hands again claimed him. There was also the possibility that the villagers might not speak so freely with outsiders, but perhaps there was a way. He stood. “Excuse me one moment. Perhaps there may be a way to find out more.” “Whatever you say,” Andrew said. Andrew‟s Greek was basic at best, and here in Anogia, the dialect was different, making it even harder to interpret. But Stephanos was able to understand it and to some extent speak it. He walked up to the man who was plucking at the lyra.
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“May I?” he asked in Greek. The man looked surprised at first, but then nodded and handed over the instrument and bow. Stephanos was surprised at how good it felt to hold a lyra once again. It was familiar, and soon he was immersed into the music of an old and recognized tune, his instincts guiding him. It reminded him of the good things he had known as a child. Of his sisters, of his grandparents, of those who had come before. He knew several famous Crete musicians had come from Anogia. He finished the song, handed the instrument back to the man, and thanked him for letting him play. Several of the men had begun to exchange Cretan verse in the form of mantinades, verses formulated in two lines each containing fifteen syllables. His father had always been very good and very quick with the verse. When he and Stephanos‟s grandfather would get going, the whole family would often be mesmerized as they traded lines back and forth. The elder gentleman invited Stephanos to join them. But Stephanos shook his head and indicated he was with a friend. But when the man invited Andrew as well, Stephanos decided it might be a good idea and motioned for Andrew to join them. The remainder of the afternoon and evening were spent exchanging mantinades with the elders, glasses of ouzo, and subtle questions that might lead to some discovery for Andrew. Andrew passed the photograph around and showed them the medallion. It was earthy and inebriating and also enjoyable. A type of enjoyment Stephanos had long forgotten. It was only when the taverna eventually closed its doors that Andrew and Stephanos finally wove their way back to their hotel. “I‟ll pay f‟ this t‟morrow,” Andrew slurred. “Not much of a drinker, are you?” “Ouzo isn‟t normal. Think it‟s worse than sake.” Stephanos laughed. “It was good, wasn‟t it?” “D‟ffrent. Liked it,” Andrew said. Then stumbled. Stephanos caught and steadied him. “Going t‟ be so sorry in th‟ mornin‟.”
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Stephanos had been raised on ouzo, so he wasn‟t as bothered by the drink. “You‟ll be fine, Andrew. In the morning you may think you‟re going to die, but you won‟t. I won‟t let you.” “Thas‟ comforting,” Andrew said. They stopped in front of the hotel. And for one moment Andrew seemed clear-headed. “Thanks, Stephanos. You an‟ me.” He cupped Stephanos‟s face. He leaned forward and whispered in Stephanos‟s ear. “I liked those verses. Whad‟ you call ‟em?” “Mantinades.” Stephanos shook his head. Andrew would probably recall tomorrow, when his brain wasn‟t befuddled by liquor, that he knew exactly what they were called. “Yeah. Them. How about this?” His lips touched Stephanos‟s ear. “Your cock long an‟ thick, driving deep, fillin‟ m‟ hole completely. Stretches me wide, pain ‟n pleasure collide, as I take as much as you can fuckn‟ give me.” He pulled back and gave Stephanos a lecherous grin. Stephanos chuckled. “Have you been thinking that up all evening?” “You betcha,” Andrew said, then waggled his eyebrows. Stephanos guided Andrew into the hotel. “I‟m going to remind you of it when you‟re sober. Tonight I think you‟d be lucky if you had a chance at even getting it up, let alone appreciating it if I did fuck you tonight.” Andrew stumbled again. “Maybe you‟re right. Think bed might be good right now.” “Yeah, me too.” Andrew was going to be so sorry he drank so much. But maybe some of their questions tonight might lead to some important revelations tomorrow.
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Chapter Seven Andrew thought that perhaps dying would be much preferable to what he felt the next morning. He sat hunched across from Stephanos while the man dug into his coffee and meat pastries the next morning, as Andrew tried to keep his head and his stomach firmly fixed in their appropriate venues. “How could you let me drink so much last night?” Andrew muttered. Stephanos laughed, then gulped down more of his coffee. “It was the heat of the moment perhaps. But you were having fun, yes?” “As far as I can remember. No one took unfair advantage of me, I assume.” “I acted as your protector. No one dared.” “They didn‟t want to take on a jealous lover who has the body of a Greek god perhaps.” Even through the weight of the miserable hangover, a quick burst of lust couldn‟t help breaking through. “Perhaps. But then again, in your inebriated state, perhaps you‟re imagining things.” “You mean I wasn‟t accompanied home by one of the gods? And I was so certain.” “Do you recall the little mantinada you composed for me last night?” “Verse? Me? I don‟t do verse. Boring research papers are more my line.” “I shall have to remind you at an opportunity more appropriate than this.” “I really did? Oh God, did I stand up in the middle of the taverna and… Oh shit!”
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Stephanos got to laughing so hard he almost fell off his chair. “That would have been something indeed. No, you did not do that. Even better.” Andrew held up a hand. “No, don‟t tell me. I don‟t think I want to be reminded.” “When the time is right,” Stephanos responded mysteriously. “Mr. Andrew, you have guests,” Eleni said breathlessly as she hurried across the tiled floor. “Guests?” Of all days. He felt like a limp overused washrag ready for the trash receptacle just at the moment. Certainly not up to receiving guests. “I think she is maybe long-lost relative you seek? I show her in? Is okay? Or do I tell her to come back later?” “No, no.” He pulled himself together and carefully stood. Stephanos also got up, but with an ease that made Andrew envious. “We‟ll follow you.” They crossed the foyer and turned a corner. At the bottom of the staircase leading up to the rooms on the second floor stood an older woman dressed in black, with white hair done up in a topknot. A younger woman accompanied her who was dressed in stylish jeans and a T-shirt. The way the clothing molded to her frame spoke designer. Which surprised Andrew. As Andrew, Stephanos, and Eleni came to a stop, Andrew‟s apparent guests turned to greet them. It was Andrew the older woman‟s attention went to as she studied him closely. She pointed at Andrew‟s medallion. Then she said something in Greek to the younger woman. It was the young woman who stepped forward to shake Andrew‟s hand. “Mr. Larson? My name is Marguerite Nikolai. This is my grandmother, Zora Grannopola. She has heard that you inquire about a woman who might be your mother. A friend described a medallion you have that was hers. Is that correct?” “Yes. And please call me Andrew.” “It is possible that we may be related. Is there somewhere we might talk?”
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“Oh, come, come,” Eleni said. “I bring refreshments. You must consider my home yours as well.” Eleni smiled at Zora and said something to her in Greek. Then she turned back to Andrew. “Zora and I have known one another for long time. You come back inside, and I make fresh coffee. We bring more chairs, and you be comfortable?” It was probably the best idea. It wouldn‟t be necessary to make Zora climb the stairs that way, and they could enjoy some of the amazing view visible from the panoramic windows on the first floor as well. Andrew noted that Stephanos seated himself in the far corner, allowing Zora and Marguerite closer access to Andrew. “If you need me to interpret, I‟m right here,” he said even as he distanced himself from the trio. Eleni, as promised, brought fresh coffee and delicious-looking fruit-filled cookies. Zora spoke in Greek, and Marguerite translated. “The medallion. She would like to know more about it.” “I‟ve had it since I was born,” he said as he fingered the medallion. Then something made him remove it, and he handed it across to Zora. He watched as the older woman peered at it closely. She nodded, then returned it to Andrew. Andrew then pulled the picture of his mother from his pocket and showed it to Zora. Zora gazed at the black-and-white photograph for a long time. Then she looked at Andrew with tears in her eyes. She pressed a hand to her heart as she said something in Greek. Words tumbled one over the other. “She says it is her older half sister,” Marguerite said. “She has not seen or heard from her since that photo was taken.” There was a pause as she listened to what Zora was saying. “Celinda was a newborn when the Nazis invaded Greece. Your grandmother and grandfather fought for the resistance. When the village was razed, your grandfather was one of the men rounded up and killed along with many others. Because of the danger, Celinda was left with a friend when things became too dangerous. But they were difficult times, and Celinda was somehow lost in the
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aftermath. It was many years before the family found out what had happened to her.” “And what had happened?” Andrew asked, eager to learn the truth about his mother. He tried to wait patiently as Zora related the rest of the tale. Finally Marguerite turned back to Andrew. “She says Celinda was apparently adopted by a US soldier and his wife and taken to America. She also came back here with them for a visit when she was sixteen, looking for her past. Her adopted family were good people. Zora is younger than Celinda, and once they reconnected, kept in contact for a time. And then the letters stopped. Zora never knew what happened to her. She inquired, but the family who had adopted her died in a car accident, and Celinda just seemed to disappear. She is glad Celinda‟s child has found his way back to his roots just as Celinda did.” All of it was almost more than Andrew could absorb. Finally, he had the answers he‟d come here to find. “Zora says you and your friend will come to dinner on Sunday. You will meet more of your family. There are pictures and stories to share. Yes? You will come?” “Oh, yes. I sure will.” He glanced at Stephanos. “You‟ll come too, won‟t you?” Conflicting expressions crossed Stephanos‟s face, but finally he agreed. “Of course, Andrew. If you like.” “Definitely,” Andrew said. He couldn‟t believe it. At the very least he had a great-aunt, a cousin, it seemed, and more relatives who were tied to him by blood. And then there was Stephanos. When he got back to the room, he‟d try to call his adopted mother and tell her the news. She deserved at least that consideration. Coming here had been everything he‟d hoped and more.
*** “You only have a few more days left,” Stephanos said as he eased his cock into Andrew‟s tight passage. Andrew groaned. He leaned up to kiss Stephanos. He
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wound his legs around Stephanos‟s hips, opening more completely to him. All too soon, Stephanos would lose Andrew when he returned home. The thought of it was killing him. “I don‟t want to talk about it right now,” Andrew said. “I just want to be with you.” Andrew‟s drugging kisses and the tight wrap of his rectum squeezing closely around Stephanos‟s cock soon obliterated any other thoughts but of the here and now and of having Andrew in his arms. He surged forward, burying his cock inside Andrew‟s passage, trying to flood his senses with everything that was Andrew. He feathered kisses along his jaw, nipped at his chin, consuming the man as completely as he possibly could, knowing it would probably have to last him a lifetime. Andrew stroked Stephanos‟s face. He curled the fingers of a hand around the back of Stephanos‟s neck; his fingers dug into Stephanos‟s flesh. Stephanos shuddered as he came. “Never enough,” Andrew said as Stephanos withdrew. “It can‟t end here. I want so much more.” Stephanos dropped down beside Andrew. He leaned over and snagged a nipple between his teeth. Caught the taste of a salty droplet of sweat with his tongue. Stephanos had always been an idealist, but in this he knew if he tried to hold on to the fantasy of a future with Andrew, it would eventually destroy him. Just as the hope that his family would understand had almost done. He‟d spent years alone, trying to find his place yet afraid to search for it. Waiting for his family to take him back. Existing in limbo. But being with Andrew made him realize he wanted more. He deserved more. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He could feel Andrew lying next to him, and he was going to miss that presence each and every night as he lay in his lonely bed back in Heraklion. “I may be able to take some holiday time this summer,” he found himself saying. Such a fool to drag this out, but he couldn‟t help himself.
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“You‟ll come to America?” Andrew asked, turning onto his side to look at Stephanos. “If that‟s what you want. But it won‟t solve anything, will it? Just another few days together and then parted again by thousands of miles. There‟s no future for us.” “There could be. There has to be a way. We‟ll sort it out.” “Would you move here?” Stephanos asked. “Would you give up everything to move here to Crete? To be with me?” There was a long silence and no ready answer to his question. Andrew‟s lack of response was not all that unexpected. “Ah, so you thought I should be the one to give up my career to live in America with you.” “Would that be so bad? Essentially, you‟re alone here. It doesn‟t have to be that way. I can make you happy.” It was Andrew living in a fool‟s paradise. Nothing was that simple. It never was. “And now that you‟ve found your family?” “I have a family in the States too. They raised me. I owe something to them. I‟m up for tenure at the university soon. Tenure isn‟t that easy to get. I can‟t just walk away from all that.” Of course he couldn‟t. Yet could Stephanos walk away from his roots? Could he make a place for himself in America? Was that what he wanted? He‟d never envisioned that kind of future for himself. But then he hadn‟t expected to be disowned by his family. There was so much to think about. So much to consider. And there was always the possibility that even if he wanted to go to the US, he wouldn‟t be able to get a work visa. “Six months,” Andrew said. “Before I‟ll see you again.” He crawled up over Stephanos. He leaned forward and kissed him. Stephanos wrapped his arms around
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Andrew and pulled him down on top of him. God, yes, he was going to miss this man. Fourteen days of intimacy, of realizing he wanted this man forever. Legs tangled as Andrew dropped back down on the bed and pulled Stephanos toward him. “I‟m not letting you go. I‟m not going to make it that easy to say good-bye.” “I don‟t want you to make it easy,” Stephanos said. “I just don‟t know how we can make this happen.” “If we want it enough, we‟ll find a way.” He had wanted his family to accept him, but that had never happened. Sometimes wanting something badly enough didn‟t make it happen. Stephanos pulled Andrew closer. For now, they had to make every moment count. Each touch would become a memory, each kiss bonding them closer. Stephanos simply couldn‟t bear the thought of parting from Andrew. They had to find a way. “Kiss me again.” He just wanted to get lost in Andrew‟s arms and forget that when morning came, he would again be left alone. Anonymous in a city filled with people. Yet without his lover it would be as good as being on a mountaintop far removed from civilization.
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Chapter Eight Andrew was wound tight. Each mile that brought him closer to Heraklion and the airport just twisted the knot inside his stomach tighter and tighter. It was almost more than he could stand. His emotions were more turbulent than they‟d ever been before. He had always been a deliberate man. Setting goals, carefully considering alternatives, never veering from the path he‟d set for himself. But meeting Stephanos changed everything. Nothing was as clear-cut and simple as it should be. He had a plan. Everything in his career, even down to his family, had gone the way it should. Except for falling in love with Stephanos. He could only hope that once Stephanos came to Boston, he would see that was where Andrew belonged and also Stephanos. They would develop a plan, just as Andrew did with everything else in his life, and then they would put it into action. They would be together. “Pull over,” Andrew said. “What? We‟re almost there,” Stephanos said. “You don‟t want to miss your flight.” “Fuck the plane. Pull over. Now.” Andrew heard the urgency in his voice, knew it was the panic of impending separation. His fear that the thousands of miles that were about to separate them was more a life-threatening situation than he could stand. As soon as Stephanos pulled the car off the road, Andrew whipped off his seat belt. He turned to Stephanos, panic and fear overwhelming him. “I love you,” he said to Stephanos. Then bolted across the seat and fused his mouth to Stephanos‟s, pouring out all his fears and his love into his startled lover. He pulled back and
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stared into Stephanos‟s eyes. “I love you,” he said softly. “Don‟t forget me when I‟m gone.” Stephanos‟s expression softened, and he kissed Andrew. “Don‟t be a realist about this. Don‟t focus on the reasons we can‟t do this. Think about the reasons why we can. Why we have to.” Stephanos nodded. “All right. Yes. I shall consider only the reasons why we must. There may be something, but I don‟t want to speak of it yet. I don‟t know.” “So you‟ll come to the States? You‟ll find a way?” “We‟ll make it work, Andrew. Somehow. If you‟re sure you want this as much as I do.” “Do you love me?” Andrew asked. He hadn‟t said it when Andrew had. Perhaps he didn‟t. Perhaps it was just that intense Greek passion that would diminish once they were apart. Maybe he just wanted to calm Andrew until his departure. “Is there someone else?” He‟d never even thought to ask. “Now‟s a hell of a time to ask me, lover,” Stephanos said, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice. “There‟s no one but you. And there won‟t be.” “Don‟t make promises you can‟t keep,” Andrew said. “I don‟t expect…” “Liar,” Stephanos said and then kissed him. “I love you too. Is that what you want to hear? It‟s true. I think I probably started falling in love with you even before your plane touched the ground. When I saw you, there was no hope of going back and undoing what we‟d already started to build between us.” “Yeah, I know.” Andrew had to acknowledge to himself that he‟d felt the same as well. He‟d been drawn to Stephanos right from the beginning. Stephanos drew back. “Your plane.” “Yeah, you‟re right. I can‟t put it off. I wish you could come with me right now.” “Me too. I never expected it to be so…intense.” “The sex?”
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“All of it. Not just the sex. You. All of you. Every bit of you.” Stephanos started the car and pulled back out onto the highway. Once they reached the airport, everything moved far too quickly. It was too hard to say good-bye. Hands clasped tightly. A whispered “I love you,” and then Andrew strode toward security, terrified that if he looked back, he wouldn‟t be able to get on the plane. So he just kept moving. The taste of Stephanos was still on his lips, the feel of him held close. He forced himself not to think about what came next or how long the span would be before he saw Stephanos again. After all, there was still the phone, e-mail, video chats. But it wasn‟t touching, not like it had been over these last fourteen days. And that was something he wanted more than anything. And if there was something he could do about it, to accelerate that happening, he would be damned certain to do whatever it was going to take.
*** The loneliness was worse than Stephanos thought it would be. But then he hadn‟t been in love before. The hours and days dragged by. Nothing seemed to help. He‟d set things in motion at work. It wasn‟t an easy step to take, but for him, worth the risk of failure. There was a work exchange program in place. An arrangement with a company in Boston. If Stephanos was accepted into the program, he would be able to go to Boston for a year on a work visa. It was enough time for him and Andrew to discover whether the love they shared was a strong enough foundation to build something lasting. Stephanos now waited outside of the director of human resources‟ office for his meeting. All the paperwork was completed, and now it would just take time for him to be approved for the program. He‟d worked hard, dedicated himself to succeed in his position as a top programmer. But what was a profession without the man he loved at his side? Somehow his success felt empty if he had no one to share it with. He‟d thought long and hard about this step. Considered that the passion that had exploded between him and Andrew perhaps was just passing—just a holiday affair. But it had been
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more than a month, and nothing had changed. He missed Andrew more than ever. It was time to make things happen. “Mr. Angelika? Mr. Cambridge will see you now.” Stephanos‟s hand tightened on the handle of his briefcase. He rose to his feet, thanked the receptionist, and then walked down the hallway. A chance at his future happiness rested in the hands of the man he was about to meet. Four weeks passed as Stephanos waited to hear if his request would be approved. Four weeks that he existed in limbo, where time passed slowly. He refused to focus on the possibility of failure. He refused to consider that he might be turned down. But he wasn‟t idle. In making the decision to go to the States to be with his lover, he made other choices as well. He would no longer remain in the shadows; he would no longer turn down invitations fearful of what people might say. It was not an easy decision, nor one he took lightly. But he knew that in order to have a healthy relationship with Andrew, he must publicly accept who he was. He had to be comfortable within his own skin. If he was denied the transfer because he came out as being gay, it would mean a delay in his plans to be with Andrew, but it wouldn‟t mean the end of any possibility to be with him. It would simply mean he must take another route. And he was willing to take the chance if it came to that. He dreamed of his lover every night. His dreams were vivid and erotic, and he more often than not awoke to the undeniable wetness of his climax drenching his hand and staining the sheets. It couldn‟t be helped. And the longer the separation, the more intense were his dreams. The waiting became unbearable. Then finally, four weeks after his meeting with the director, an envelope appeared on his desk. He knew what was inside, yet he was afraid to open it. “Well?” His coworker, Ari, stood in the doorway, his eyes bright with curiosity. It was only recently, attending a party of another coworker, that Ari and Stephanos had become friends. And Stephanos had learned that Ari was also gay. Ari knew
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about Andrew and about the transfer. The only way Stephanos had been able to deal with some of the tension had been to confide in someone who could understand. “I‟m afraid to open it,” Stephanos admitted. “What if they‟ve denied my request?” “Remember, it‟s not the end of the world,” Ari said. No, but it would mean he‟d have to wait even longer, and the waiting had already stretched his nerves to the breaking point. “But I think we‟ll be out celebrating tonight. Something tells me the transfer has been approved.” Stephanos quirked an eyebrow. “And you would know this how?” Ari glanced down the hallway and then batted his eyelashes at Stephanos. “Oh, maybe I have a connection or two in HR who I maybe asked to keep an eye on things for us.” “You‟re a terrible flirt, Ari.” “Oh, I admit it, I‟m a whore. And if you weren‟t already taken, I‟d be on my knees ready to worship that gorgeous body of yours.” “You know nothing about my body.” Ari stepped farther into Stephanos‟s office. “Well, honey,” he whispered, “a boy can dream, can‟t he? Now open that damned envelope.” Stephanos slit the flap and pulled out the papers. He released a long sigh. He looked up at Ari and grinned. “So who‟s partying with me tonight?” “Yesss! I knew it,” Ari said as he gave Stephanos a high five. “I‟ll make some calls. I can put a party together so fast it‟ll make your head spin. God, I love an excuse to plan a party. See you later.” Stephanos stared down at the letter. He couldn‟t believe he‟d done it. This was a huge step for him. He glanced up at the clock. There was a ten-hour time difference between here and Boston. He so wanted to hear Andrew‟s voice when he told him, but he was likely in the middle of a lecture right now. He didn‟t want to do it by e-mail either. That meant it would have to wait.
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It was promptly at seven the next morning that Stephanos picked up his phone and dialed Andrew‟s number. He would probably just be getting home from the university. “Stephanos?” “Andrew. It came through. I‟m coming to Boston.” It felt so good to say the words out loud. But it wouldn‟t be until he stepped off the plane and into Andrew‟s arms that he would truly begin to feel it was real. “Thank God! When? I want to know everything.” Stephanos grinned. It was going to be all right. He had heard it in Andrew‟s voice. No hesitation whatsoever. Total relief and joy in the tone. That was all Stephanos needed. Another four weeks would see Stephanos stepping off that plane in Boston and directly into his future with the love of his life.
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Chapter Nine This time it was Andrew holding up the sign—standing at the bustling Logan International Airport with the excitement of a child on Christmas. Both he and Stephanos had waited a long time for this to happen, and Andrew couldn‟t believe he was finally arriving. He‟d arranged a welcoming party to take place at the weekend, hopefully to give Stephanos enough time to recover from the flight and to deal with jet lag. Andrew recalled his own struggle with exhaustion on his visit to Crete. Several boxes containing Stephanos‟s personal items had arrived earlier and were stowed in one of the rooms at Andrew‟s house. He and Stephanos had never talked about where Andrew lived. It was likely to come as a bit of a shock to Stephanos. Hopefully a pleasant one. And then Andrew saw him. His fingers tightened around the sign. He frantically waved an arm to get Stephanos‟s attention. Then he saw Stephanos grin as he recognized Andrew, and he hurried his steps. Andrew dropped the sign; Stephanos dropped his duffel bag, and the men embraced. “Thank God,” Andrew said. “I‟ve missed you. I knew I would, but I didn‟t think it would be as bad as it has been. Let‟s get out of here.” At least it wasn‟t raining, so traffic only moved through its normal snail‟s pace rather than slowed to almost a dead stop. It eased up as they moved over the highway and into the suburbs surrounding Boston. Andrew pulled into the driveway of the quaint Victorian on a quiet side street. He waited for Stephanos to say something.
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“You rent an apartment in this house?” Stephanos asked in a low tone as he studied the house. “No. Actually, I own the whole house.” Stephanos was quiet for a long time as he looked at the house, then down the street, then back to the house. He never looked at Andrew. “You never told me that you were…well off.” “I‟m not so much as my family is. At least my adopted family. My adopted grandfather owned this house. When I got the position at the university, I rented a wing of it, as it‟s within walking distance of where I work. When he passed on, he left the house to me along with a trust for its maintenance. I know it‟s awfully big for just one person, isn‟t it? But it suits me. And now I can share it with you.” “It is a beautiful house, Andrew. But I wish you‟d told me that you were wealthy.” Andrew sighed with impatience. “I‟m not rich, if that‟s what you mean. I just told you, I inherited the house. And the money to keep it up. But I‟m just a professor, and untenured at that.” “What did your grandfather do for a living?” “He was an archeologist. He took part in some very worthwhile expeditions to Egypt, particularly when he was a young man. I remember listening to his stories when I was a boy. I guess that‟s why I took such an interest in history. My grandmother always seemed to be right there by his side, just as excited about a find as he was. Come on. Let‟s go inside.” Andrew opened the door and got out. He then pulled the back door open and grabbed Stephanos‟s larger bag. What he wanted more than anything was to show Stephanos the bedroom, and the large-framed antique bed in particular. Stephanos followed Andrew silently up the front steps and into the house. Stephanos dropped his bag next to the door and stared around at the high-ceiling, polished oak-floored foyer. “This is all yours?”
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“Yes. It came with the house.” Stephanos‟s reaction to the house was beginning to irritate Andrew. He hadn‟t expected it to be such a big deal. “Perhaps you were more fortunate than you think to have been adopted by such a family. Perhaps it was your destiny,” Stephanos said. “You could have afforded to hire an investigator to find your family. Why didn‟t you?” Andrew rounded on Stephanos. “All right. I should have told you about the house. I don‟t see why it‟s such a big deal, but I guess I should have. It was my family, Stephanos. I take a personal interest in that. I‟m a history buff. I wanted to discover it all for myself. Can‟t you understand that? You‟re making too much of this. I guess I thought—I don‟t know what I thought.” God, what was he going to say about the party he had planned for the weekend? “I am wrong, Andrew. I overreact. Perhaps it is the jetlag or just that I have wanted to see you so badly. Too much excitement. My apartment is so small. I am a simple man, perhaps too simple.” “Stop it. You‟re perfect—for me. Come on. I want to show you the most important room.” He waggled his eyebrows. “The bedroom.” Andrew started toward the staircase. Stephanos stopped him. Andrew turned. Stephanos kissed him. It was a deep and hungry kiss, meant to curl Andrew‟s toes. Andrew gripped his nape, keeping him from pulling away. Andrew stared into those deep, bottomless eyes. God, he remembered those eyes, remembered falling into them. Free falling, never ending. “I am glad to be here, Andrew. I have missed you.” “Me too. God, I can‟t wait to get those clothes off you. I want to refresh my memory. Wouldn‟t my grandfather be rolling over in his grave if he knew exactly what form my favorite exploration was?” He couldn‟t help grinning. The bedroom was huge, and the bed large enough not be dwarfed by the size of the room. A showpiece. Andrew saw Stephanos glance off to the side—to the statue in the corner on the opposite side of the room. He walked over to it. “Icarus?”
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“Yes.” He yanked Stephanos‟s shirt up over his head. He kissed his bare shoulder. Stephanos stroked the wing on the white marble sculpture. “Did I ever tell you how much you remind me of him?” Andrew dropped to his knees. He reached around to under Stephanos‟s jeans, then slid them down over his ass, letting them pool at his ankles. He nipped at Stephanos‟s ass cheek. Spreading his fingers across the firm muscular globes, he revealed the crease and flicked his tongue over Stephanos‟s anus. Stephanos shuddered. “Shower first?” Andrew asked. He started low and slid his tongue slowly along the slope of Stephanos‟s spine. He slid his hands around and spread them flat across Stephanos‟s abdomen. “Well?” “You choose,” Stephanos said. Andrew curled his fingers around Stephanos‟s semihard prick. “A shower, I think. But I don‟t think this is like any shower you‟ve had before.” “Oh God. More surprises?” Stephanos murmured as he leaned back against Andrew. Andrew chuckled. “More surprises.” He turned Stephanos to face him. “You‟re the first, you know.” “The first?” “Yeah. The first man I‟ve ever brought up here. Oh, I‟ve brought dates home before, but never to my bedroom.” He cupped Stephanos‟s roughened jaw. “I‟ve never loved anyone like I love you.” A flicker of pleasure crossed Stephanos‟s expression. Just the hint of a smile on his lips. “Let‟s check out this bathroom of yours.” “Nineteenth century, updated. Really. I know you‟ll like it.” Stephanos toed off his loafers; he stepped out of his jeans and underwear. Andrew took his hand and led the way.
***
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say
that
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was
overwhelmed
might
be
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an
understatement. But most assuredly his mind was not on culture shock when he entered the bathroom with Andrew. All that was in his mind were the months they‟d been separated by thousands of miles of land and water. Even as tired as he was from the months of planning and then the long trip from Heraklion, he was now apparently getting a second wind, because he couldn‟t wait to strip Andrew bare. A glance around the huge room left Stephanos with the impression of mahogany wood and pristine white porcelain painted tiles, exposed brass fittings and pipes, high ceiling. Stephanos‟s eyes widened when he tipped his head back to study the Michelangelo-style erotic image that extended to every corner of the ceiling about his head. “I‟ve made my own alterations based on nineteenth-century plumbing and design,” Andrew said. “So it‟s not quite historically accurate. But I think you‟ll enjoy the experience. And finally, that sink will be used to maximum advantage. I‟d considered replacing it, but now I‟m glad I didn‟t.” Andrew was apparently referring to the double-console marble sink that was mounted on one side of the room opposite from the brass claw-footed tub. Andrew shed his clothes quickly and then moved to the area at the back of the rectangular room. Stephanos assumed by the look of it that it was a shower, but like nothing he‟d ever seen before. An enclosure that filled the entire wall and inside curved racks of slender fixtures lined the wall from top to bottom. And that didn‟t take into consideration the array of what looked like nozzles and such attached to the porcelain-tipped spigots on the side of the wall. The porcelain tiles were delicately painted to make it look as though one was standing in the lush jungles of a rainforest. Andrew got in and turned two levers. Water sprayed from several different directions—above water spewed down like a rain shower, and then it splashed upward from tracking at the bottom. Water plumed fountainlike to drench Andrew. And then there was the piping that tracked up the walls. Andrew grinned at
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Stephanos. “You‟ve never tried anything like this before. It‟s amazing. Like standing right at the base of a waterfall.” Stephanos wasted no time in removing the rest of his clothing, and he joined Andrew in the large enclosure. Then closed the frosted glass doors. The pulsing of the water against his flesh had to be one of the most erotic sensations he‟d ever experienced. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he turned round and round, letting the water hit him from all directions. He heard Andrew chuckle, and he opened his eyes, wiping away the water that clung to his lashes. “You like it?” “Yes, very much.” “Don‟t think I‟m this decadent all the time. But there are nights when it‟s just the right thing to top off a day. Face the wall and grab onto the pipe above your head. Close your eyes. Immerse yourself in the sensations. Trust me.” Stephanos did as Andrew said, stretching up to grip a pipe that was just within arm‟s reach. “Spread your legs,” Andrew said. Stephanos‟s cock, hard and aroused, brushed against the smooth tile. One set of pipes lined up almost perfect, shooting several jets of pulsing water aimed directly at his cock. Water shooting up from the floor seemed to be aimed at a most sensitive spot just beneath his testicles. Then suddenly the rhythm of the water changed to short bursts that drove him crazy with lust. “Andrew.” One word that begged for release. “Not yet,” Andrew said from behind him. “Keep your eyes closed.” Stephanos heard the wrapper of a condom shred, and he had a hard time containing his anticipation. Imagining in his mind Andrew rolling the condom down over his prick. Almost of their own volition, Stephanos‟s hips pumped; his cock brushed against the tile. A moan escaped him.
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And then he gasped as he felt something ease into his rectum, but he knew damned sure it wasn‟t Andrew‟s cock. The object felt narrow and long as Andrew eased it into his channel. And then more sensations as Stephanos felt the pulsing of water inside his passage. His hips rocked back and forth as Andrew worked the implement inside him again and again. The water pressure changed, fast and slow, short bursts, then long. “Enough,” Stephanos finally said. The tool eased out and then was replaced. By something far thicker. Hard flesh that stretched him, burned him as Andrew thrust inside. A hand encircling Stephanos‟s prick jerked back and forth as Andrew fucked him. “Come for me, babe. Now,” Andrew said as he buried his rod inside Stephanos‟s passage. “Aghh!” Stephanos yelled, the ecstasy drenching his voice as it echoed back to him in the confines of the antique shower space. Finally, he collapsed against the tiled wall, shuddering in the aftermath. Vaguely he felt Andrew allow his softened dick to slip from inside him. Andrew apparently turned off the water, and only the odd drip spilled down onto Stephanos, but Stephanos couldn‟t even think of moving. If he removed his hands from the pipe, he was likely to end up on the hard, wet floor of the shower. It was moments later that Andrew stepped back into the shower and engulfed Stephanos is a big fluffy white towel. “Come on. You‟re all done in. Let‟s get you to bed.” Bed. A huge bed, with cool sheets and warm comforters. A bed to die for. Once dry, Stephanos climbed into the bed naked. Andrew spooned around him. “This is heaven,” he said, then kissed Stephanos‟s neck. “This is the way it‟s going to be.” To Stephanos it felt like a dream, some fantasy, and he‟d wake up back in his apartment in Heraklion, Andrew far away, and Stephanos alone. Andrew‟s arms tightened around him.
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“I‟ll still be here when you wake up,” Andrew murmured against his ear. Stephanos could smell the clean scent of soap on Andrew‟s skin. He felt the strength and warmth of Andrew‟s arms, his hands stroking over Stephanos‟s chest. Stephanos‟s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Like at the hotel in Anogia, everything outside this room seemed to drift away. Time had no meaning. The only thing that mattered was that he was here with Andrew. As long as he had that, everything else would fall into place. It had to. He would make this work. Whatever it took. He relaxed back into Andrew‟s arms, a smile curving his lips as finally the exhaustion claimed him.
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Chapter Ten “I‟m sorry, Stephanos. I don‟t know what to say. I must apologize for my colleagues.” He handed Stephanos the glass of bourbon and then dropped into a leather chair opposite him. It was a disaster. The intimate gathering of his colleagues that Andrew had planned so carefully didn‟t go as he‟d planned. He had wanted to show Stephanos how right his decision was in coming to the US. Instead, all he had shown him was how wide the gulf was that stretched between Stephanos‟s more earthy pleasures in life and the more cerebral philosophical pursuits of the people that Andrew had numbered among his friends and associates. Barring the age differences, Andrew actually being at the lower range, having rounded the corner of forty the month before, Johnson, whose knowledge was rooted in philosophical foundations and idealism, became inebriated beyond belief and expounded on the social and economic situation in Greece. Carson had turned a lecherous eye on Stephanos, spouting disgusting nonsense about his memories of free love and the mind-expanding possibilities to be enjoyed in polyamorous relationships and how three men were better than two. And Stephanos, being of Greek persuasion, would he be interested in exploring the dynamics of sex with a much older man? Carson, closing in on retirement at the age of seventy. And that was just the cusp of the situation. It was like with the presence of Stephanos, someone had dolloped a healthy dose of testosterone into the room. He‟d never witnessed them act like this before, all vying for position with Andrew‟s blue-eyed, sexy Greek lover.
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Did they think this was a fucking game? He loved Stephanos. This was not some goddamned macho contest. Stephanos was not a prize to be won. He belonged with Andrew. No one else. God, Andrew had never thought of himself as a jealous man. He‟d always prided himself on being level-headed. But tonight everything seemed to have changed. Dammit, he hadn‟t even recognized himself, let alone the asinine mannerisms of his so-called colleagues. Had he at one time really thought he could call them friends? He downed the bourbon in one gulp, and his eyes watered, as the liquid burned a path down his throat. “I don‟t know what got into them. They‟ve never acted like that before. A fucking bunch of horny old men.” And that was exactly how he had seen them tonight. But Stephanos had handled them all with such perfect aplomb. Perfect in every way. It was Andrew who had turned rude and had finally kicked them all out of his house. And breathed a sigh of relief once the last of the rotters stumbled out the door. “Never again,” he muttered as he refilled his glass. He leaned back against the overstuffed chair and closed his eyes. Damn, he was tired. He and Stephanos had retreated to the back of the house and into the more intimate confines of the study. The drapes were pulled closed. The fire in the fireplace crackled, firelight flickering across the antiquated room. Already, he‟d begun to feel the foundations of his world beginning to tremble. This wasn‟t how it was supposed to be. With Stephanos here, now his world was supposed to be perfect. He‟d tied up all the loose ends, found his family in Crete, looked forward to attaining tenure. The road he‟d carved for himself was exactly the way it should be. His life even populated now with a man he loved desperately. So why wasn‟t it perfect? Why was he now seeing cracks in the life he‟d envisioned? He opened his eyes when he felt Stephanos rest his hands on his thighs. He looked down at Stephanos, marveling at the light and shadow that played across his features in the flickering light. He was beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful man
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Andrew had ever met. But it wasn‟t just outwardly—there was something that shone from inside as well. Andrew leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss deepened. Andrew framed his strong jaw, brushed his fingers over the rough texture of shadow darkening his skin. He thrust his tongue deep inside Stephanos‟s mouth. His voracious hunger for this man terrified him at its depth. Suddenly, he pulled away, afraid of the passions that swamped him. Ordinarily, he was not a man given to such deep emotion. Was this what love was supposed to be like? To want a person so much, a man would kill for them? Would sever every other piece of their life in order to be with them? His heart thundered. He trembled in awe at the enormity of his emotions. This level of feeling was too much. It was soul destroying, life threatening. He stared down at Stephanos. It was with a measure of wonder that he reached out and traced a path over his full, sensual lips. “Loving you is going to be the death of me,” he murmured. Stephanos dipped his head and bit the tip of Andrew‟s finger. Andrew drew in a breath as a sensation rooted in primal lust arrowed a fiery path to his cock, drawing at his testicles. “Stephanos.” There was a spreading ache, an undeniable need that flavored the utterance of his lover‟s name. Stephanos tugged on Andrew‟s finger. He cupped Andrew‟s hand with both of his. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked the finger deeper into his mouth. There was something languorous yet dangerous in Stephanos‟s eyes. Andrew‟s breath stuttered, and tension coiled in his chest. He felt an answering animal need claw its way up inside him. The growl that he emitted surprised him. But he saw a lusty light of understanding flood Stephanos‟s expression. Stephanos eased Andrew‟s finger from his mouth. He lunged forward, caught the edges of Andrew‟s pristine white dress shirt, and ripped it open. Andrew gasped with the primitive force of the action. Stephanos caught the neck of the white T-
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shirt, twisting. He drew Andrew up from the chair, dragging him down onto the Persian carpet in front of the fireplace. He pushed Andrew onto his back, hand still tightly fisted into the front of the T-shirt, drawing it tightly across Andrew‟s chest. “You think I wanted any of them, Andrew? You think I was tempted when I have you?” Forcefully he yanked downward. The T-shirt ripped, exposing Andrew‟s chest, which sharply rose and fell with each excited breath. “You, Andrew. You are mine. None of those foolish others.” Andrew lunged upward, grabbing Stephanos by the neck, fusing his lips to Stephanos‟s mouth. He tasted blood as a tooth ripped at Stephanos‟s flesh. He shoved Stephanos back against the sofa, ripped at his clothing, as Stephanos frantically tore at his until they were both naked with nothing other than firelight clothing them. Flames that licked inside and out, coating them with sweat as they rolled across the carpet. “All night, I‟ve wanted to do this. For hours, I‟ve been waiting to fuck you,” Stephanos said, the tone of his words promising dark and lusty demands. “Yes,” was about all that Andrew could manage. Stephanos had Andrew on his hands and knees, bearing down on him, forcing his submission. He found his discarded tie and wound it around Andrew‟s wrists, locking them together. “What are you going to do?” Andrew asked, breathless with excited anticipation. “Fuck you.” Stephanos almost growled the words. The tone nearly unrecognizable. “Yes,” Andrew said. “Fuck me.” Stephanos swatted him on the ass. “Oh, fuck, yes,” Andrew screamed. He‟d never been used like this. And he loved it. He wanted more. Stephanos spanked him again and then again until tears sprung to Andrew‟s eyes and he whimpered, begging Andrew to fuck him.
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“Stay there,” Stephanos said. “Don‟t move.” Andrew bowed his head, shaking with excitement, and waited for what seemed an eternity, his body hot and hard and soaked in sweat. But there was no thought in his mind of disobeying Stephanos‟s order. His ass throbbed from the thorough spanking; his cock was stretched long and thick with arousal. His teeth chattered, and he clamped them together in an effort to get some type of control, even though he knew it was a losing battle. And then Stephanos was back. Condoms and a tube of lube fell onto the carpet beside Andrew. Stephanos dropped to his knees behind him. He stroked his hands over Andrew‟s cheeks, driving the pain deeper into Andrew. He reached around to pick up Andrew‟s discarded tie and used it to blindfold him. “Now you focus on the sensations. I‟m going to fuck you. I‟m not going to be gentle. Do you want gentle, Andrew? Do you want me to be a gentleman? Do you want me to be sweet and polite? Or do you want me to fuck you like my ancestors— our ancestors—would have done it?” “Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Do it.” And that was exactly what he wanted more than anything at this moment. He didn‟t want polite; he wanted barbaric. “No more talking or I‟ll gag you too.” Andrew shook his head. He felt the chill of the lube. At least Stephanos wasn‟t going to try to fuck him dry. But the handling was rougher than usual. His fingers seemed thicker, longer, went deeper. Andrew was thrust forward when Stephanos‟s cockhead pushed past the tight ring of muscle. Blindfolded, all Andrew could do was concentrate on the feelings raging inside him. The stretch of skin as Stephanos lodged the head at his entrance. And then Andrew gasped as Stephanos plunged forward, his penetration going from zero to full engagement in one quick thrust.
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“Ahh,” Andrew screamed, dropping down onto his elbows. Lifting his ass higher. Stephanos withdrew just as quickly. Then plunged in again. And again. Andrew heard his grunts with each deep penetration. Stephanos‟s fingers dug into his hips, turning him this way and that. Until Andrew was nothing but sensation and responses, nothing but feeling and passion. Nothing but an animal as he shoved back onto Stephanos‟s prick again and again and again. “Aghhh! Fuck me! Again! Again!” He ground his hips onto the thick cock inside him. His fingers dug into the pile of the carpet as he sought purchase. His mind exploded even as he climaxed with the most earth-shattering orgasm he‟d ever experienced. He collapsed. Stephanos withdrew, still hard. He rolled Andrew onto his back. He straddled Andrew, folded his unresisting legs forward onto his chest, and then penetrated him again. He ripped off the blindfold. “Ugh,” Andrew grunted as Stephanos filled him again. This time instead of fucking him fast, Stephanos used long, slow strokes. His hips undulated over Andrew. Firelight and shadow danced over his gleaming flesh. Unable to resist, he thrust against Stephanos in counter rhythm, seduced by the erotic beats of the man who mounted him. Owned him body and soul. But now his hunger for this man was branded to the very depths of his being. He felt it to his core when his lover climaxed. “Stephanos.” He held up his bound arms in supplication. In acceptance of a far greater passion worthy only of the gods. Stephanos unbound his wrists and pulled him into his arms, against his strong chest. Andrew shuddered and then melted against Stephanos. Bliss was the only coherent word that could form in his mind. The only one he wanted.
*** Acclimating to a work schedule in Boston was not as bad as Stephanos expected. Of course, having attended university on a scholarship in Boston made the transition easier. The difficulty seemed to be in defining his relationship with
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Andrew. Andrew called it a committed relationship. He said he loved Stephanos, but ever since the night of the party at Andrew‟s house, Andrew somehow seemed to have withdrawn, holding something of himself apart from Stephanos. He seemed to have segregated his relationship with Stephanos from his work at the university and his colleagues. Each passing day it tended to get worse. After three months, they‟d not even talked about what would happen when Stephanos‟s work visa ran out. And even if they were to legally marry, the immigration service didn‟t recognize gay marriage in applying for a green card. If Stephanos was to stay in the US, he would need to apply for another work visa, and there was no guarantee it would be approved, and no guarantee he would find suitable employment if he left the position with his present company. But Andrew had not seemed open to a discussion on the possibility of returning to Crete with him either. All he kept saying was that they had time and they would discuss it later. Stephanos had to wonder if Andrew was having second thoughts about their relationship. Perhaps it was not as he expected. He had yet to introduce Stephanos to his adopted family. Again, he kept saying the time wasn‟t right; his parents weren‟t available. More and more, Stephanos thought perhaps he should prepare himself for the inevitable return to Crete. And the reality that the only thing he‟d be returning with was a broken heart. He loved Andrew. More than he thought he would ever love anyone except his family. He wanted to spend his life with Andrew, but perhaps Andrew no longer felt the same way. And Stephanos was not the type of man to force himself on anyone. His steps dragged as he turned the corner and caught sight of the huge Victorian. Admittedly it represented a prime example of the architecture of the nineteenth century in America. And inside, it was filled with antiques and a library overflowing with books on history and art that Stephanos probably would have an opportunity to encounter in few other places. In fact, he spent a great deal of time in the library perusing the large selection of books. He found he had a great deal of time on his
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own as Andrew was involved in numerous meetings at the university, often late into the night. The moment Stephanos stepped inside, he knew Andrew wasn‟t at home, and probably he would be eating alone. This wasn‟t the way it was supposed to be. It wasn‟t how he‟d imagined it. It was eleven o‟clock before Stephanos heard the front door. He closed the book he‟d been reading, got up, and stepped out into the hallway. “Where were you?” Damn. He hadn‟t meant it to sound like accusation. Andrew turned from hanging his coat on the coat rack. Stephanos felt the presence of that invisible wall that now seemed to separate them, the controlled set to Andrew‟s expression. “I told you, I had a meeting to attend. A fund-raiser for the department.” “Yes. I remember. Andrew, we have to talk. We need to…” What more could he say? How could Andrew not understand the urgency of their situation? “Not tonight. I‟m too tired. Maybe this weekend.” “You know I won‟t be here. There‟s a retreat I must attend. I‟ll be gone all weekend.” “Yes, yes. Of course, you told me. I…I forgot.” Andrew turned to head for the stairs. But Stephanos couldn‟t just let it go. His patience was running out. He reached for Andrew‟s arm and swung him around. “Do you want this to end? Is that it? Have you decided it really was just a holiday fling? Are you wishing me gone?” The expression on Andrew‟s face was one of guilt, followed by one of panic. Had Stephanos been right? “God no, I don‟t wish you gone.” He lunged forward and wound his arms around Stephanos, gripping him tightly. “Never. You can‟t go. You can‟t leave me.” And then just as quickly as a light switched off, he pulled away and stumbled back
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toward the staircase. “I told you I‟m exhausted. I just want to go to bed. I can‟t…I can‟t talk about this now.” Stephanos was more frustrated than ever. Hot and cold. It was driving him crazy. What the hell did Andrew want? And what did Stephanos want? He loved Andrew, but did he want to stay here? Could they find a way to make it work? He rubbed his eyes. Trying to sort this all out was giving him a headache. There had to be a solution. But maybe Andrew was right—neither one of them was in the best frame of mind to sort it out tonight. Maybe after the retreat things would be better. At least he could hold Andrew in his arms at night. Lately, in the darkness of night was the only time when he didn‟t feel just as alone as he‟d been in his apartment in Heraklion. Slowly, he made his way up the stairs.
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Chapter Eleven “I‟m returning to Crete,” Stephanos said. Andrew stiffened visibly, then slowly turned to look at Stephanos. It was the phone call that changed everything. Stephanos couldn‟t wait any longer. Besides, the tension between Stephanos and Andrew had reached a breaking point. Four months and still no resolution. “Who was the phone call from?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “It‟s not just about the phone call. It‟s us, Andrew. It‟s about us. Even though you say you want me here, I sense that you don‟t. You don‟t have room in your life for a lover—or maybe it‟s just me you don‟t have room for. I don‟t know. And you won‟t talk to me about it.” “Stephanos, please. Don‟t do this. I love you. You can‟t leave.” Stephanos drew himself up. “I don‟t know what it is that you want, but it isn‟t me. There‟s something going on, but you don‟t talk about it. Dammit, Andrew, how can you say you love me but refuse to share your life with me?” “I share my life with you.” Andrew jumped to his feet and began to pace. “What is this? I share my house with you. I love you. I want you to stay here.” “That‟s just it. You share your house, and that‟s where you draw the line. I don‟t want this fucking house. I want you. Emotionally you‟re as distant from me as if I was back in Crete. You don‟t want a partner; you want a housemate. I can share an apartment with anyone—as can you—and have that. I want more. I deserve more.”
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“A housemate? So what? You consider yourself my housemate with benefits? Is that what you‟re saying? Fuck you! Who the fuck was on the phone?” This was getting them nowhere. Andrew was not willing to admit there was a problem. For him apparently life was perfect. For Stephanos it was far from it. He shook his head. “That‟s it then.” He brushed a hand down the side of his face. “My father is in the hospital. He‟s asked for me. I‟m going home, Andrew. Maybe…maybe you need some time to think about what you want. But I don‟t think it‟s me you love. I think you envisioned this perfect life for yourself, and a man in your house just completed the picture you saw for your perfect life. But that‟s not what I want. I don‟t want to be the final piece to the puzzle. Maybe I‟m selfish, but I want to be the centerpiece. And I want you to be the centerpiece of my life. The rest is all just dressing. I want you, but you don‟t want me—not enough. And I can‟t be an afterthought. I‟m going home to resolve things with my family. If you really want us to have a life together, maybe you better think about it without me around to distract you. I know what I want, and I‟ve shown you how much I want to be with you.” Stephanos spun around and headed toward the stairs. “Don‟t leave,” Andrew said. He cleared his throat and said it louder. “Don‟t leave me. I can‟t bear it.” Stephanos stopped. He strode back across the room and kissed Andrew. He felt desperation in the kiss as Andrew clung to him. But not the deep, abiding need they‟d had so long ago. And it wasn‟t desperation that would keep him here. He hugged Andrew. “You know where I‟ll be when you make up your mind.” He called the airport and booked a flight. If it came down to it, Andrew could send him his things later. They already knew at work that due to an emergency he had to return to Crete. He looked around the bedroom; his eyes focused on the door to the bathroom and that devilishly decadent interior. But this wasn‟t his home; it was Andrew‟s.
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He picked up his backpack and descended to the first floor. He‟d already called a taxi to take him to a hotel near the airport. He couldn‟t stay here another moment. It was too hard. Andrew waited for him at the bottom of the steps, near the front door. There was a look of utter defeat on his face. He just wanted to say, “Say something, dammit. Give me a reason not to go!” But Andrew didn‟t say the words. The blare of a horn outside told Stephanos it was time. He had to go. His hand was on the scrolled brass knob. The pain of his broken heart make it difficult to breathe. “Wait,” Andrew said from behind him. Stephanos pivoted around slowly. Andrew held out his hand. The silver chain dangled from between his fingers. He forced Stephanos to take the medallion. “You‟re right about all of it. Maybe you do need to go. Maybe I need to sort this out for myself. I do love you. And one day I‟m going to come to collect this from you.” He curled Stephanos‟s fingers around the medallion. Stephanos‟s throat closed. If he hugged Andrew, if he kissed him, he would fall apart. The medallion bit into his skin. He whirled away, opened the door, and leaped down the steps. As the taxi pulled away, he couldn‟t help glancing back. Andrew stood on the top step watching Stephanos depart. Stephanos didn‟t think he‟d ever seen a more lonely and heartbreaking image. And one that was likely to haunt him forever.
*** Andrew considered many things over the course of the next few weeks. Stephanos didn‟t return his calls. After the first e-mail, he‟d stopped answer those as well. He sat in his library surrounded by his books, his memories, and a letter stating that he‟d been offered that tenure he‟d wanted so badly and worked so hard to get. None of it meant anything. “No more, Andrew. This is made too difficult.” Stephanos‟s last voice-mail, the one Andrew played over and over just to hear his lover‟s voice. Just to hear him say his name.
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But wasn‟t that the story of Andrew‟s life? Always abandoned. His mother. The father he never knew. Those early foster homes. He‟d almost been past that cute age for adoption when the Larsons decided they wanted him. He‟d been innocent, ecstatic. Naive. It wasn‟t long before he realized that as far as his adopted family was concerned, he was never really a son, but more someone to be shaped into what they thought a son should be. What their dead infant son might have been had he lived. Andrew was a fake. And up until he‟d met Stephanos, that had worked very well as long as he remembered his place. But Stephanos had made him feel things far too deeply. As long as Andrew kept some part of himself separate and safe, he knew he wouldn‟t be hurt too badly. That night after the dinner party, something had snapped. Stephanos had pried open every last hidden corner of Andrew‟s soul, exposing the core of his vulnerability, what Andrew knew would lead to certain heartbreak. Eventually Stephanos would discover Andrew was a coward. The one thing he‟d always known was that anyone whom he thought loved him would in the end abandon him because Andrew was and always would be a cast-off. Self-protection meant a lockdown of emotion, or his passions would utterly destroy him. He had been terrified of losing Stephanos, the one man who meant everything to Andrew. And in the end he realized he‟d forced his lover to leave him because Andrew had withheld that very essence that might have assured him happiness. The house, the job, the tenure were nothing without the love of his life. Was he strong enough to try again? Could he survive if Stephanos had had enough and refused him? Could he not try? It could mean he‟d be giving up everything he‟d work so hard to achieve. Stephanos had turned a fresh, hard, and revealing light upon his colleagues, upon the life he lived. And Andrew found it wanting. There had been no real part of it he wouldn‟t sacrifice to share one moment of happiness with Stephanos. Self-examination really was a painful process. Bringing all his faults into the light and examining them minutely. Where was the value in his life? What
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mattered to him more than anything? What were the things he simply couldn‟t bear to live without? And how hard was he willing to fight to hold on to them? There was only one thing he wanted. To be loved just for himself, even with all his faults. But who was Andrew? He‟d lost sight of what he really desired a long time ago. But then wonder of wonders, Stephanos came into his life. It was love he couldn‟t bear to be without. It was Stephanos‟s smile, that twinkle in his gorgeous blue eyes. It was that frown of intentness when he was focused on a new and intricate task. It was the feel of his lips on Andrew‟s. It was the taste of him, the warmth of his body spooned against Andrew‟s in the dead of night. It wasn‟t just about not being alone—it was about being with that person that completed him. This house was filled with ghosts, with the dust of generations past. But in truth, they weren‟t his generations. His blood was in Crete. His life, everything he had to live for, was in Crete. What a fool he‟d been. Was he too late? “Stephanos.” He leaned forward in the chair and stared into the flames in the fireplace. Into the very heart of the fire. “Stephanos, I won‟t fail you again.”
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Chapter Twelve Stephanos had made the right decision in coming back. That was a mantra that he repeated to himself time and time again. He was right to cut off communication with Andrew no matter how badly it hurt to do so. Wasn‟t it? After weeks of feeling like he was caught in a vacuum unable to feel anything except regret, it was hard not to question himself. Was he really the one afraid to commit? Relationships did not always travel easy paths. No relationship was perfect. But loving someone meant you stayed and you worked it out. But he hadn‟t stayed; he‟d fled. Yes, the relationship with his family was beginning to mend. His father would recover from the heart attack. Stephanos had not yielded though on the fact that they would have to accept him for who he was. At least now they were willing to try. It, of course, had all hinged on his father. Ari had been glad to see him, and they‟d gone out together as friends a few times. It wasn‟t enough. There was still something missing. A huge piece of his heart. He‟d be going back to the village where he‟d grown up to spend part of the holidays with his family. The first time in several years. It felt strange. Tomorrow he would make that drive. But tonight. Tonight he sat in the last pew of the church—the same one where Andrew had found him so many months ago. And he remembered what had happened when they left the church and gone back to Stephanos‟s apartment. That night had changed everything for him. So much had changed. God, what had he done? He leaned forward, elbows on knees, head bowed, hands covering his face.
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“God, how do I make this right?” he whispered. “Show me how to fix my life.” With one hand, he reached for the medallion he wore, cupping his hand around it. Wearing it somehow made him feel closer to Andrew, and right now he needed that badly. “Andrew.” He stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I‟m right here.” Andrew slipped into the pew beside him. It couldn‟t be real. He looked up at the cross over the altar. He blinked away the tears. He was too choked up to say anything. Andrew reached for his hand and linked it with his own. It was real. Stephanos squeezed his hand. “I‟m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn‟t have left like that.” “You weren‟t wrong,” Andrew said. “I was an idiot. And one day I‟ll tell you why. But”—he gripped Stephanos‟s hand harder—“not right now. Right now, I just want to be with you.” Stephanos nodded. Silently he thanked God for the answer to his prayer. It was a long time later they finally slid from the pew and walked out of the church. Stephanos pulled the collar of his coat up. He linked his arm with Andrew‟s, afraid to let go. Afraid he‟d disappear. Together they walked down the steps of the church. “I‟m supposed to spend Christmas with my family in Anogia, but I think maybe the snow will make that impossible.” “I also.” “So you‟ve mended the rift with your father?” “It will take time, but things are better.” Stephanos looked into Andrew‟s eyes. “Perhaps we both stay in Herkalion. What do you think, Andrew? You are with family, right?” Andrew smiled and reached up to stroke a finger along Andrew‟s jaw. “Yeah, I think so.”
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Stephanos was afraid to ask the next question, not sure he wanted to know the answer. “For how long are you here?” Andrew cupped Stephanos‟s face. “I‟m here until you kick me out. I‟m home wherever you want to make it. Somehow, some way. It doesn‟t matter. There‟s nothing, darling, nothing that matters more to me than you.” The snow fell heavily, covering them in a blanket of white, the air chilled as they turned and strolled down the street arm-in-arm. Stephanos was too full of happiness to speak, and it seemed Andrew was the same as well. The church bells sang out ringing in Christmas. There was an inner fire that burned bright and lasting. Lighting the way in the darkness. A fire that would keep them warm as long as they nurtured its flames and fueled it with their passion. A fire that had singed them, burning out of control, and then consumed them with a voracious appetite, fusing two souls together. Love could be an untamed inferno or a tender core of warmth. Love was ever changing, a hungry passion, forging an unbreakable bond, and Stephanos knew, in his deep feelings for Andrew, that even the gods above had looked down upon them with joy in their hearts.
Loose Id Titles by Adrianna Dane Body Parts I’ll Be Home for Christmas Lonely Hearts Public Lives, Private Pleasures The Messenger
Adrianna Dane The first defining love story Adrianna read back in junior high school was Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, and that set her on the road to her long standing love affair with the romance genre. Her inspiration in writing often can be found by listening to song lyrics and reading poetry by such poets as Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edgar Allen Poe, and Ranier Maria Rilke. But finding inspiration for her stories truly has no boundaries for Adrianna. She freely admits she is a romantic by nature and adding sensual heat to romance with a dusting of suspense is her motto. Esmerelda's Secret, released by Amber Quill Press in June of 2004, was Adrianna's first book, and with that story and her subsequent books has firmly established herself as a voice within the sensual/erotic romance genre.