Page 30 of Prodigal

André definitely blushed that time. “I wasn’t in my right mind when I said that.” But he moved within arms’ reach.

“No? Sorry, I can’t say the same. I was definitely in my right mind when I offered to spit-shine your dick.”

André pressed his lips together, doing that fidgeting thing again. But he was hard, Gideon found when he raked his gaze down the other man’s body, stopping at the impressive bulge at the front of André’s jeans. It was his turn to lick his lips. Andrémade a sound, a soft little whimper, and Gideon’s gaze flew to his.

André watched him with wide eyes and parted lips. “So, you just want to fuck me?"

Gideon shook his head with a broken chuckle. “I have a feeling there’s no ‘just fucking’ when it comes to you.” Which should be all the warning he needed to get the fuck up and walk away. There were plans in place, plans that involved the other man. None of those plans that took years to strategize, formulate, and put in place included going multiple rounds on that bed Gideon lay on.

But that was all he wanted.

To be wrapped in André’s warm skin, his taste smothering Gideon’s taste buds, and his sounds of pleasure battering Gideon’s ear drums. That was what Gideon wanted.

“Your people know you’re in here.”

Ah, fuck. He was in no mood to hear shit from Samir. “Do they?” he asked nonchalantly.

“I don’t think they’d be happy to know I had the Winters’s prodigal on his knees ready to grant me favors.”

Gideon smirked. “You’d be surprised to know what makes my people happy.” Not that though; they would have him committed. He reached out and grabbed André’s wrist, yanking him down to sit on the edge of the bed. “I asked you a question last night. One you didn’t bother answering.”

André stared down at where Gideon continued to hold him. “What question?” He sounded strained.

Gideon knew the feeling. “Who is Ty Levins?”

André’s gaze darted away quickly before coming back to Gideon's. “A friend.”

Gideon narrowed his gaze. “A friend you fucked?”

André rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“A friend you’re still fucking?”

“That matters why?”

Gideon tightened his grip on his wrist. “Answer the question,” he growled.

“No.” Fuck, the stubborn tilt of André’s chin should not have Gideon ready to cum on himself. “Answer me first. Why does it matter?”

“It matters because I want to be the only friend you fuck.”

“You’re not my friend,” André fired back. But the fire in his eyes matched the same flames from their kiss, and it took everything in Gideon to keep from lurching forward and swallowing the other man’s tongue.

He leaned forward, lips brushing André’s jaw. “We could be enemies,” he whispered. André shivered, and satisfaction curved Gideon’s lips. “We could be whatever. As long as we fuck.”

10

He madeit difficult to be good.

André swallowed back the automaticyes. Gideon Winters made him want to forget. He entertained giving in to Gideon’s indecent proposal for far longer than he probably should have.

There was something in the way Gideon’s heady scent flowed toward him, warm and intoxicating, as if sleep only turned him more potent. Something in the way his fingertips pinched into the soft flesh of André’s wrist...

He wanted to give in.

Wanted to have Gideon back on his tongue again. His body moved before his head caught up, swaying into the pulling warmth of Gideon’s body. He looked so good in that bed, something André had been trying so hard not to notice. When Gideon left, his scent would be all over the sheets. The pillows.

A thrill shot through André at the thought, sinking low into his groin, making his dick jerk and his balls ache. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about Gideon Winters. He was everything André hated, everything he swore he’d never entertain.

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