“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Really? Where should I be?”
Mason toyed with Antonio’s dark, springy curls. Antonio’s pubic hair was almost as soft as the locks on his head. How many people were able to make such a claim? Mason’s lips stretched with a familiar happiness. He always intended to ask Antonio if he conditioned the hair all over his body, but never had before time ran out on them.
The realisation his thinking switched to past tense made Mason stir a little in his half-conscious state, but he was too comfortable to worry. The dream called him back. The time: summer. The place: his father’s boathouse and the one person unwelcome but there: Antonio.
“This is my inheritance. Father believes you want me for my money.”
Dark eyes gleamed. “You and I hook up, he’s going to cut you off in
