Love Most Inconvenient 3 Read online

  “I’m going to forget you made that comment, and I don’t need disciplining, thanks, and may I remind you, this is my house.”

  “I know that. Where’s your pool?”

  “Out there.” He hooked his thumb toward the window. “Can you swim?” Vittorio narrowed his dark eyes.

  “Yeah, I can swim.”

  “Too bad. I was going to invite you to dive in, hoping you’d drown.”

  “Nice. Anyway, we’ll be doing that together after breakfast.”

  “Drowning?”

  “No. Getting in the pool.”

  “I’m not getting in the pool with you. You can forget that.”

  “I can’t forget it. I have a good memory. Are you scared?”

  “No, I’m not scared. Why in hell should I be scared?”

  “Good.”

  “What do I need to get into the pool for anyway?” Vittorio glanced at him.

  “Isometric contraction is really the best way to build and strengthen muscle. Given the severity of the breaks and the fact that the casts have only recently come off, we have to start easy. Working out a little in the water will be less painful, and will lubricate your—”

  “Lubricate my dick,” he grunted. “I don’t need you to help me exercise in the pool. You just show me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  Brody raised an eyebrow again. “It’s not that simple.”

  “To lubricate my dick? Sure it is, you just got to know how to suck cock, that’s all.”

  Vittorio seemed to think that was really cute. He also probably thought it was going to scare him away. “Is that so?” Brody replied.

  “That’s so. Want to give it a go?”

  “Sure.”

  Vittorio’s eyes widened. “I’m not kidding.”

  “I’m not kidding either.” Brody tilted his head. Vittorio really imagined that he’d get all freaked out and run off like a little boy with his tail between his legs. It was hilarious.

  “Well”—Vittorio looked uncomfortable—“I am kidding, okay, and if you’re, well—queer—you’d better keep your hands to yourself.”

  “I’ll try and control myself.”

  “You got to do something, I suppose, to earn your keep.”

  “That’s right. Or maybe I just want to get you into the pool where I can cop a feel.” Brody poked his head out in front of Vittorio’s face and raised both eyebrows.

  “Don’t be disgusting,” Vittorio grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t let you grope me if you were the last man on earth.”

  “Well, since I really don’t wish to test out that theory of being the last man on earth, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. I’m crushed, but I’ll live with it.”

  Claire Jones came in with a tray now, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt.

  “There are bagels and cream cheese, and hot coffee,” she announced. “Oh and fruit, Mr. Barilla, the doctor told me to make sure you ate your fruit.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled.

  “And Brody, Stan says he can help you get Mr. Barilla into the pool later if you need him to.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Brody replied, taking a cup of coffee. “I can manage.”

  “What, you going to carry me in your arms like Rhett did to Scarlett in Gone with the Wind?” Vittorio snickered as Claire placed the tray on the table beside his wheelchair.

  “I loved that movie,” Claire sighed.

  Brody sipped his coffee. “I’m afraid I’m not as romantic as Rhett Butler. I’m just going to wheel your chair out and tip you into the pool.”

  Brody saw the startled look on Vittorio’s face. Claire was smiling as she left the room. That was one for him.

  “I hate bagels,” Vittorio announced suddenly, after only eating a few bites. Brody grabbed the back of his chair and began wheeling him in the direction of his bedroom. “Where in hell are you taking me?”

  “Is there anything you do like?”

  “No, and I want to know—”

  “If you must know, I’m taking you to your room to strip off those clothes.” He whirled the wheelchair into the bedroom. “Now, where are your trunks?”

  “I can dress myself, thanks.”

  “Fine, do it then. But tell me where your bathing suit is.”

  “In the top drawer of my bureau,” he admitted.

  Brody paused to look at the photographs of Vittorio on the wall. Most of them were taken on the soccer field. The shelf over the bed was loaded with trophies. Brody picked up one of the photographs that was sitting on his bureau. Vittorio was smiling, balancing on his haunches with a ball between his knees. God, he had the greatest smile. He was really a sweet-looking guy.

  “That was last year,” Vittorio said suddenly. “We had just won the World Cup.”

  “It’s a great picture.” Brody put it back down.

  “You a soccer fan?”

  “Sorry, football.”

  “Football, eh? You look like you could have played some.”

  “I did back in college.”

  “You miss it?”

  “No,” he said. “I wasn’t very good. You miss soccer, don’t you, Vittorio?”

  “Vic, please. No one calls me Vittorio.”

  Brody tilted his head. He really felt that Vittorio wanted to say something more. He waited.

  “I might never be able to play again, you know, not like before. I’m going to lose some speed and strength. You got to have strong legs to play this game. My strength is that I’m fast.”

  “You can’t give up. We don’t know if you’re going to lose that much strength and speed. If you work hard, well…”

  Vic nodded solemnly, looked down at his hands. For a moment, Brody thought he might be crying.

  “Hey,” Brody announced, “it’s not just your legs that count here. You got to have a pretty hard head to play that game too, don’t you? And I don’t see any weakening when it comes to that part of your anatomy.”

  “Okay, okay.” Vic looked up at Brody with a smirk. “I deserved that.”

  “Damn right you did.” Brody laughed then leaned down in front of the other man. “Look, Vic, I can’t guarantee that you’ll be the same as before but if you’ll cooperate with me, I’ll do my best to bring you as far as you can go. It’s going to mean a lot of pain. You got to work. And your attitude is everything.”

  Vic grinned. “Are you trying to tell me something there, big guy?”

  “I think you already know.” Brody stood, dangling the swim trunks in front of him.

  Vic snatched them away from his hand. “Give me those.”

  “Now, either put these on yourself or I’ll do it for you, and since I’m the last guy on earth you want groping you, you better get a move on.”

  Vic smirked. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “I’ll go change.”

  “And Brody, I didn’t mean that about…”

  “It’s okay.” Brody waved that away. As he left the room, he was thinking it would be better if Vic did think that.

  When Brody came back out of his room dressed in a pair of navy blue trunks, he could hear Vic still struggling with his. Brody knocked lightly on the door. “Don’t bite off my head there, champ, but could you use a hand?”

  “Maybe just if you could…” Vic trailed off and swore.

  Brody chuckled as he came in.

  Vic’s pants and underwear were on the floor and his trunks were sitting at his knees. He placed his hands modestly over his genitals as Brody approached.

  “Now, if I only had a camera.” Brody grinned.

  “You want to die?” Vic threatened between clenched teeth.

  Brody felt as if he might die looking at Vic at that moment. He’d already seen more than Vic had intended him to. And Mr. Soccer had a great cock. “Lift your butt,” Brody instructed, reaching for the trunks. God, he has a great ass too.

  “How fucking embarrassing.”

  “What?” Brody eyed him a
s he pulled the trunks up over Vic’s butt. “To have some guy pull your pants on for you?”

  “Should be the reverse, shouldn’t it?”

  “Vic, you’re not flirting with me, are you?” Brody stood back. He was aware that Vic was assessing him. The guy might have broken his legs but his libido seemed just fine.

  “Get over yourself,” he muttered. “Look at my legs. They’re so white and scrawny. And I’m helpless like an old man.”

  “They’re not scrawny at all.” Vic still had the legs of an athlete, and due to their previous muscle mass, he’d lost less conditioning than most would have in the same predicament. “It’s normal for them to look like that. And that has nothing to do with you checking me out. Come on.” He wheeled Vic out of the room.

  “I was not checking you out.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Is this where you dump me into the pool?” Vic joked as Brody pushed open the patio door and they emerged into the sunlight.

  “It might cool you off, and I will dump you in the pool if you don’t behave yourself,” he warned.

  “Then I guess I’d better be a good boy.” He was looking at Brody again, this time with a wicked glint in his eye. God, he must have broken a lot of hearts already.

  Brody held his tongue, deciding it was best not to encourage him. He moved the chair over to the side of the pool and put on the brake. “I’ll go and get the floats.”

  “Floats? You mean like you put on a baby?”

  “Just like you put on a baby,” Brody replied with a grin. He went over to the little shed on the other side of the pool and opened the door. The coach had promised to supply everything that was on Brody’s list, and it was all there. He took out two of the floats and closed the door. “This one goes under your butt,” he said, “the other goes on your back. I’ll get you into the pool and put them on then.”

  “Aren’t you afraid I could drown in the meantime?” Vic sneered.

  “Not if you hold onto me real tight.”

  This time, Brody didn’t miss the look. It was definitely the once-over, with the pause in all the right places. Vic cleared his throat. “You have a great body,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Brody muttered, trying to make it sound casual.

  “You have great definition in your chest and your arms. You’re a big guy, tall, I mean,” Vic said quickly, but his gaze was directed much too low to be measuring his height.

  “Come on,” Brody said hastily. He put his arms underneath Vic and pulled him down to the ground, positioning him at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. He placed one float over Vic’s shoulder, brought it around and tied it in the front. Then Brody crawled down the ladder and waded around in front of him. He was suddenly standing between Vic’s legs, and he was acutely aware of it. He couldn’t help but notice the boner Vic had going on, a definitive bulge barely contained by the tight black spandex briefs he wore. Christ. Okay, Brody, you’ve been in this position before, did therapy with a lot of guys who had erections. You didn’t lose it.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” Brody instructed.

  Vic met his eyes. He put one hand on Brody’s head and stroked his hair then did the same with the other. Suddenly both hands settled on Brody’s shoulders. What in hell was that all about?

  “You got a boyfriend?” Vic’s tone was soft, a little seductive.

  “Ah yes,” he said. “No, I mean, not really. Hold on to me.” He grabbed Vic’s arms and pulled them around his neck; then he put his arms around Vic’s torso, lifted his legs into the water and put them on his hips.

  “Which is it, yes or no?”

  “Sometimes,” he said, pulling Vic forward. For a few seconds, Vic’s groin was almost pressed against his face. He turned his head and lowered him down off the pool edge and into the water.

  Vic clutched onto him, one hand back on Brody’s hair, the other on his shoulder. His thighs tightened a little around his waist.

  With the other float in his hand, Brody positioned it under Vic’s butt, aware of the contact as he did. “There,” he breathed, loosening the hold Vic’s legs had on his hips.

  “You’re going to let me go?” Vic laughed then, the water on his face and chest looking like diamonds.

  “No, I’ll never let you go. Keep your hand on my shoulder for balance. We’re going to work your legs. Isometric exercise must be performed at all angles for an injured leg, so I want you to cross your right leg over your left. Flex your quadriceps while you apply resistance with the other leg. Here, I’ll help you.” Brody extended Vic’s leg at a ninety degree angle. “Okay, we start like this and work our way up. Your quads are going to burn, so be prepared.”

  It was tough, and Vic really strained like hell to do as Brody coached him. He wasn’t able to hold each position for more than ten seconds, but it was a start.

  “I hate this,” he grunted, perspiration bathing his forehead.

  “I know,” Brody said compassionately. “But we need to keep doing these. The water will help. Ideally, you should be holding it for forty seconds.”

  “Forty seconds? You got to be kidding me!”

  He was exhausted when Brody lifted him out of the pool and back into the chair. Brody wiped the water off his legs, arms, and chest with the towel, then handed it to him to dry his hair.

  Vic was quiet as Brody took him back to his room.

  Brody found his clothes and handed them to him. “You okay?”

  “I’m as weak as a kitten. How in hell am I ever going to play soccer again, Brody?”

  “You will,” Brody told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I promise you. It’s only the first day.”

  “When do I get to use the weights?”

  “One step at a time, okay? Later, we can try this again. We can do it in the chair if you like. Just relax for now.”

  “My quads are burning.” Vic rubbed his thighs with his palms.

  “I’ll massage them for you later.”

  “Ah.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You a massage therapist too?”

  “I do have some expertise, given my profession.”

  “Our team trainer gave massages but he was ugly as sin. I’d much prefer you massaging me. You know, Brody, you might turn out to be a good man to have around after all.”

  Brody shook his head with a grin. “I’ve heard that before. I’m going to put some clothes on now, and may I suggest you do the same, Romeo?”

  Vic laughed. “The view from where I’m sitting is pretty scenic. You can walk around naked if you like.”

  “What, and frighten the housekeeper?” He raised an eyebrow comically.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Vic drawled, “she might like it.”

  The teasing had gone way over the line, and still Brody found himself standing there, indulging in the banter. Vic was a flirt, but he was so damn cute, and at this moment, he would have loved to have dragged those trunks down and had himself a little taste. Brody, down boy. These thoughts running through your head are anything but professional. Walk away.

  “You wear those trunks well,” Vic was saying now, as if he’d read his mind. “I bet you wear being naked even better.”

  “How does one wear being naked?”

  “Some men just do, and they’re very comfortable without clothes. Are you comfortable being naked, Brody?”

  “Depends on who I’m being naked with, I suppose.”

  “With me? Would you feel uncomfortable being naked with me?” He met his gaze and held it.

  Definitely, unless I was fucking that round little ass of yours, of course. He cleared his throat. “Get dressed. We’ve got more work to do after lunch.” He forced himself to walk out of the room before Romeo could reply.

  Brody felt winded when he got to his room. And he knew very well why. When he took his trunks down, his cock practically bounced in the air. He was sure that Vic had noticed and that’s why his attention was always on his goddamned crotch. “Might as well be back in high
school,” he muttered, annoyed. He took his cock in hand for a few minutes and squeezed it, trying to soothe the ache. It didn’t help.

  When he heard the sound behind him, he knew it was Vic’s chair, and there he was stark naked, holding his dick in his hand.

  Vic didn’t turn away, and he didn’t avert his eyes either. Instead he said, “Can I help you with something?”

  “No,” Brody snapped. “And don’t you believe in knocking?” He scrambled for his pants.

  “The door was open.”

  Brody turned his back to Vic. He pulled up his pants hastily and did up the zip.

  “It’s okay, Brody, really. The water always makes me hard too. You make me hard.”

  Brody saw Vic lick his lips as he turned back around to face him. “I’m here to work.”

  “I know that, but all work and no play…” He trailed off.

  “Vic, lunch is ready. Let’s go.” Brody grabbed a fresh T-shirt, whirled Vic’s chair around, and pushed him into the dining room.

  Vic was laughing.

  “What?”

  “You. You were so embarrassed. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a man masturbate.”

  At that moment Claire came into the room with two steaming bowls of soup. She came close to dropping them. “Ah … soup is on, boys,” she said, hurrying back out. “I’ll bring the sandwiches,” she called over her shoulder.

  Brody sighed heavily. “I was not masturbating. Watch what you say.”

  “Why? Oh yeah,” Vic muttered as Brody pushed him up to the table, then took a seat opposite him. “I’m scandalizing the housekeeper. So, if you weren’t masturbating, what was that?”

  Brody scooped up some chicken noodle soup and blew on it. “I was just holding my dick, if you don’t mind, and it’s really none of your business what I do with my own dick.”

  “Okay.” Vic grinned. He raised an eyebrow.

  Claire appeared then with the sandwiches, which brought the discussion to a halt.

  “Bon appétit.”

  Brody ate his soup and one of the tuna sandwiches Claire had made. Afterward, they had their coffee outside. Vic was unusually quiet so Brody just enjoyed the solitude and the foliage that surrounded the house.

  “So what’s your sometimes boyfriend like?” Vic asked suddenly.