Page 66 of His Secret

Before I can bring myself to say anything, he’s walking away and disappearing into his room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ADRIAN

I spentall of last night convincing myself that what happened between Matías and I wasn’t even a big deal. It wasn’t cheating, right? We didn’t even touch. I masturbated, and masturbation is not cheating.

Okay, so I had a small audience. Is that cheating?

I came into his mouth. All right, that’s probably crossing a line, but our bodies never touched. Do I get some sort of grace?

Running late, I get out of bed and rush to the shower, confusing thoughts swirling in my head like a tornado, wreaking havoc on my brain.

I know that it’s still wrong, and anybody would be upset to learn their significant other masturbated in front of someone, but it could be worse, right?

God. I’m so screwed. I’m officially one of those douchey men who come up with any sort of excuse to make themselves feel better over what they did.

How can I possibly stay another night in this hotel room with him, when that was the last thing we did? When I want to do it again. When I want more to happen.

Once I’m dressed, I rush out into the living room prepared to apologize for my tardiness, but I don’t see Matías. The suite is quiet. I find a tented piece of paper on the table with my name scrawled across the front. When I open it up, I read his note.

I heard you in the shower, but I had to leave early since I have my panel this morning. I’ll see you later.

Don’t be weird.

I scoff, but there’s a small smile on my lips when I place the note back on the table.Don’t be weird.Please. How can I act like he wasn’t on his knees in front of me, giving me commands, and swallowing my cum?

With a glance at the time, I rush out the door and down into the lobby. I’m only a few minutes late, but luckily nobody notices when I slip inside the conference room while Matías is mid-speech.

He spots me immediately, however—his gaze looking me up and down as he continues to talk.

Unfortunately, I learn nothing from his Q & A because my mind is revisiting the events of last night, and I wonder how I’ll ever move past that.

While someone asks him a question, his eyes find me as I sit in the back at the end of the row. His finger rubs along the underside of his bottom lip, the hint of a smirk on his mouth before he refocuses and answers the question.

There’s no hiding what he was thinking. He and I are both living in the same moment from eight hours ago.

When he’s done, he gets caught up talking to people, so Islip out of the room and head to the next event. It isn’t until eleven o’clock that we see each other again.

“Morning.” His voice is smooth as silk as he comes around from behind me. “Running late this morning?”

“Didn’t sleep well,” I say before clearing my throat, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm.”

I fill up my paper cup at the water jug in the hall, taking a sip as I chance a glance at him over the rim. “You? How’d you sleep?”

He grins. “Fine.” There’s a brief pause. “Want to get lunch?”

I bring the cup down and nod once. “Yeah. Sure.”

As I follow his lead, he says hi to a handful of people as we walk, smiling and laughing, not a worry or stressful thought in his head. Must be nice.

It isn’t until we’re near the elevators that I snap into the present and start asking questions.

“Where are we eating?”

“In the room,” he says simply, stretching his arm into the elevator to hold the doors for a few people exiting.

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