(La Trattoria Di Amore)
PROLOGUE
Paulo
The scents and sounds of the busy kitchen faded into the background as Paulo watched with far too much interest as Carl’s muscular back flexed under the white chef’s top that he wore. Paulo bit his tongue to prevent the moan from leaving his mouth. It was a close call. Only when his tongue was bleeding did he release it. Each day it became harder and harder not to give in and confess how he felt for the older man. Then again, Carl made everything hard…literally!
When Pappa had said they were getting another trainee in the kitchen, Paulo hadn’t paid much attention. Many people requested to come and work alongside his pappa. He was one of the top chefs in the whole of Italy and only offered to train those who were as dedicated to creating top Italian cuisine as he was. Massimo would never tolerate sub-standard food leaving his kitchen, and those that worked with him soon learnt that the hard way.
His temper was renowned, and although Carl never looked all that happy to be bellowed at, he held his own and seemed to soak up every word Pappa spoke. That level of concentration was a powerful draw to a man who loved to cook as much as his pappa. The guy was a temptation and far too fascinating. Yet no matter what Paulo did, he found himself gravitating back to wherever Carl was.
Carl had come to train and work alongside Massimo four months earlier, right around the time Paulo had come to some realisations about himself that left him confused and embarrassed whenever he got too close to Carl and found his cock misbehaving. He had taken to wearing tight underwear and baggy shorts to hide his problem when nothing worked to stop his body from reacting to Carl.
Carl’s scent, and the way he looked in and out of his chef’s clothing, left Paulo with wet dreams that made it impossible to look him in the eye most days.
“Vieni bambino, lascia Carl da solo al lavoro,” Massimo bellowed from the other side of the busy kitchen. People paid him no mind, more than used to his shouts.
Carl was the only one who glanced up from the chopping board in front of him, a look of confusion on his face as he glanced between Paulo and Massimo.
Translating, Paulo blushed. “Pappa told me to leave you alone.” His English was near perfect because of the amount of time he spent around English-speaking people.
A drool-worthy grin spread over Carl’s attractive face as he shook his head at Massimo. “Little P here isn’t bothering me.” He ran his hand over Paulo’s curls and tugged on the end. “He’s being helpful with teaching me Italian.”
“Then he needs to teach you better if, after four months, he still needs to translate what I am saying.” The words were butchered by Massimo’s Italian accent.
Carl laughed. “Maybe I’m untrainable.” He winked at Paulo, causing his fifteen-year-old heart to flutter madly against his ribs.
“Paulo, vieni qui.”
Paulo’s feet dragged over the red-tiled floor towards his pappa, knowing without a doubt he was going to be shooed out of the busy kitchen. It had been the same every day after he returned from school. “Si, Papa?”
“Vai a fare i compiti e lascia Carl per andare avanti con il suo lavoro.” As expected, his pappa told Paulo to get out of the kitchen and go do his homework. It was the last thing he wanted to do when Carl was right there to stare at.
Leaving the spicy-scented kitchen, Paulo headed outside into the hot sunshine. The heat scorched the top of his head as he ambled past the full restaurant, through the vineyard, and up to his home. The house was a traditional Italian home, with three floors, all the bedrooms on the second and third floor, had a balcony overlooking the vineyard. All the dark wooden shutters were open, indicating the cleaner was around somewhere.
The large patio area in front of the house, that held wrought iron seats and tables where the family ate at most of the year, with the exception of winter, was empty right then. Everyone would be busy at this time of the day, so he managed to escape up to his bedroom unnoticed to collapse on his single bed and stare up at the ceiling.
The sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the buzzing insects came through the open shutters. His room was at the front of the house on the third floor, away from his parents and Carl, who slept on the second floor. His older brother had long since left home and settled in Sorrento with his girlfriend.
Why did he have to be so young? Would Carl be interested in him if he were older?
He rolled his eyes at even contemplating that a man as gorgeous as Carl would be interested in him. His heart pinched as he turned to punch at his pillow before laying his cheek against the cool cotton, recalling what he’d seen the week prior.
Late in the evening, Paulo had woken, wanting a drink. When he’d returned to his bedroom, he’d lain awake due to the heat. It was the sound of voices carrying through his open shutters that had drawn him from his bed and out onto the balcony. Carl and the other man must have thought they couldn’t be seen in the shadows of the trees, but Paulo had seen them. He’d watched for too long, staring as they kissed and clung to each other, making noises that had caused his body to react and sent him back to his bed feeling like a peeping tom.
Paulo had cursed his good fortune to find out Carl was gay, only to have his own hopes of there possibly being more between them in the future dashed by a stranger. More than a little upset at having his dreams crushed, he’d cried himself to sleep, but only after he’d dealt with his hard cock, imagining it was him that Carl had been kissing.
The all-too-familiar sensations travelled to his groin at thoughts of Carl’s lips claiming his own and he ground down into the firm mattress, seeking something to relieve the growing need. It didn’t take long before he found himself on the edge of coming, with his head and heart so full of the other man. It had been this way for months and there seemed little Paulo could do to change it.
Three minutes of grinding and stroking his shaft and his pants became a sticky mess. Breathless from shoving his head into the pillow to muffle the noises he’d been making, Paulo gasped, sucking in greedy breaths when he flopped onto his back. The warm sticky mess got him moving up off the bed and stripping. He eyed his underwear and the basket his mamma insisted he use for his laundry.
With a shake of his head, he dropped the pants to the floor and slipped on a fresh pair of shorts. About to head out into the hallway to rinse his underwear and hide the evidence, he paused when a familiar voice floated through his open window.
His feet padded silently over the tiled floor to the balcony. The sound of Carl’s deep baritone caused a flush of heat to spread up his chest as he stopped just shy of the metal railing to eavesdrop.
“Yeah, Nathan, this place is fucking unbelievable. Massimo is more than a little scary at times, but he’s got some serious skills in the kitchen.” There was laughter, followed by silence.
Paulo crept forward until he could see Carl’s dark hair and powerful shoulders as he paced across the mosaic-tiled floor beneath.
“Erm, not sure. I’ve scouted out a few of the local clubs but nothing obvious here. The internet search for BDSM clubs came up empty too. Maybe you could ask about, see if anyone in the community has any ideas if there is something like that close by.”
Whatever air had been in Paulo’s chest left at speed, leaving him dizzy. He clutched at the warm metal balcony, his mouth drying at what Carl was talking about.
BDSM? Wasn’t that some kinky shit? He wasn’t completely dense, he and his friends had talked about sex stuff, but not this. Was Carl into something unnatural?
His spent cock seemed a little too keen on the idea and plumped. Paulo’s heart flipped in his chest as he backed away as silently as he’d arrived. The dirty pants lay forgotten as he soundlessly closed the shutters to prevent hearing more of the conversation, unsure his heart could cope with any more shocks right then.
His legs shook as he crossed the room and sank onto his bed, reaching for his phone. With a deep inhale, he opened the internet browser and entered BDSM into the search bar before he could think better of it. Images popped up on the screen and his heart immediately did a crazy dance against his ribs. Holy shit!
Picture after picture of men and women of all shapes and sizes appeared. They were in a multitude of different positions, some dressed in leather, others in nothing more than… well, he wasn’t quite sure what they were in, but they didn’t look comfortable that was for sure. Some looked more than a little ridiculous to his mind, but his eyes remained riveted to the screen. His thumb flicked at the screen until his mind was full of things he didn’t understand while his cock was deciding what it liked on its own.
By the time he put the phone down, his body was buzzing with feelings that left him more than a little anxious about what it all meant. His cock was painfully hard, but he wasn’t sure which of the pictures had caused it. He stared at his tented shorts, his throat dry. Was he…kinky too?
His stomach quivered.
Was Carl a Dom or a submissive? Paulo dismissed the latter, sensing that there was nothing submissive about Carl, even if Pappa could make the big man cower. Pappa had that effect on anyone who worked in his kitchen. Paulo had witnessed one of the kitchen hands piss himself when Massimo had chased the local butcher around the kitchen with a carving knife when he’d brought meat that was past its best. The guy had never been stupid enough to make that mistake again.
Unable to sit any longer, Paulo stood and walked to the wall that held his mirror to stare at his reflection. His skin was full of pimples, his face a little too round, and his curls a little too long, making him look a little more girlie than he’d like. Would someone like Carl be interested in him? His young heart yearned at the possibility.
He stared into his own dark-brown eyes and sighed, scowling at his reflection before returning to his bed to pick up his phone.
Carl is never going to be interested in you! But he might be if Paulo was into what he liked.
