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.Patsy Abbott had proven to be nothing if not persistent.But onthe heels of his frank discussion with Beno and Gina the night before, it could be they d passedalong his message and this was Santo s way of making an overture, an entrance.Asking Freddieto come to him but on his own terms.What had made Freddie agree to the invitation? Call itnatural curiosity.It wasn t every day you found yourself invited to a suite at a five-star hotel.The enigmatic invitation had come via messenger, a young kid buzzing his intercom atnoon.Freddie accepted the thick cream-colored envelope, noticing the good stock, the gold leaf,monogrammed M stamped on the back flap.He d opened it quickly, the person behind thehandwriting not easily discernible.It could be from a man, could be a woman.Hell, could havebeen dictated by aliens for all Freddie knew.The message was short, mysterious, but to thepoint: You are cordially invited for drinks at the Hotel Majestic.7 p.m.Via Veneto Suite, 2ndFloor.Casual, classy attire. When he actually decided to accept the invitation, Freddie couldn tsay.But by five thirty he d tossed on a nice pair of slacks and button-down blue shirt, the colorshighlighting his tan skin, his sparkling eyes, the clothes tight against his strong body.He was ready to go.Now, ninety minutes later, here he was.He paid the cab driver, slipping him a couple of extra euros as a tip for getting him hereon time. Grazie, the cabbie said, speeding away.Via Vittorio Veneto gleamed on this sun-streaked, golden evening.Sharp reflections hitbrass plaques on marble columns, shiny windows, the glare even piercing the sunglasses Freddiewore.The two nearby street side restaurants were bustling with activity, smartly dressed waitersscurrying about, taking orders, delivering wine, cocktails, Peroni beer to their thirsty guests.August in Rome tended to be quiet, its residents hidden away in small towns and at seasideresorts, but for the hotel industry this was peak season, and Via Veneto s top lodgings, the HotelMajestic and Hotel Imperial, did not lack for business.Tonight Freddie would not be dining outside.The invitation had clearly stated whatroom, at what time.So he took the three steps up with a spring in his stride, passing two marblecolumns that adorned the front façade of the fancy hotel.He entered the glorious, white-marblelobby, again dashing up another staircase, red carpet beneath his feet.Easily finding theelevators, Freddie pressed the button for floor two, and rode up by himself.Suddenly he wasfaced with the front door to the suite: the Via Veneto suite.He was about to be swept into aworld of luxury, and if all went well, if the right person answered the door, a world of untolddesires.Could Santo Mancusi be right behind that door?One way to find out.Freddie knocked once, politely.He realized his palms were sweaty.Why? It was just a guy& right? Sure, a totally hot guy whom you were crazy about, who made your heart sing and your cock twitch, and here you were about to meet him at a fancyhotel, indulge in& what? A night of incredible sex? That would be nice.He d had sex in a lot ofplaces this summer: his apartment bed and futon, an office inside a throbbing dance club, acabana in the Tuscan hills hell, on the Tuscan hills themselves.But he d not had the pleasure ata hotel, and he wasn t even counting that aborted threesome with Mikey and Liam.That was nohotel, but the Hotel Majestic surely was.Just then the door swung open.Freddie s eyes widened at the vibrant, coral colorsadorning the suite, heightening his senses.He stepped over the threshold like Dorothy when shearrived at Oz.Everything was in bright Technicolor, and that included the resident of the suite.He was dressed in a bright electric purple shirt, black slacks, and perfectly polished black shoes.He d grown his hair out some, no longer gelled in spiky points, instead smooth against his head,brushing his collar.The colors were beautiful against his tan skin, his handsome, freshlyshavenface.His smile was wide, bright, and, thankfully, inviting.Shit, was this guy sex on a stick orwhat? Hotness redefined. Hello, Freddie. Freddie tried to find his voice, words getting caught in his throat.Santo took hold of his hand, leading his guest further into the suite and closing the doorbehind him.At their first touch in nearly ten days, Freddie snapped out of his fugue state. Wow,Santo& this room& it s so& and you& you re so& Words were gradually coming back tohim a couple more minutes and he might even be able to form complete sentences. Let me get you something to drink? Champagne? Like he was supposed to drink tap water amidst all this luxury. Yeah, sure, soundsgood. Make yourself comfortable.Why not go outside? The deck offers lovely views of theVeneto, and it s a perfect night.Not too warm.You won t feel the heat. Looking over at Santo as he opened the champagne bottle, his ass tight in those sleekblack pants, Freddiee thought, don t be too sure.The sound of a cork popping filled the room,and soon glasses of the liquid gold were served.Freddie happily accepted one, following Santoout onto the second-story deck.The private deck with nicely appointed furniture lived up toSanto s promise, offering perfect views of the city as well as privacy for its tenants.On thecorner of the deck, Freddie couldn t help but notice an idle Jacuzzi.Geez, this room dripped ofmoney.How could Santo afford this? So, Freddie, you like? I love.It s beautiful. It s Patsy s, Santo offered. So I figured, he said. She is away right now, visiting her brother in the South of France
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