Page 50 of The Chosen Son

I was entranced by the way he buttoned his shirt, his long fingers deft and graceful, and I lost myself for a moment, remembering the way they’d looked while wrapped around my cock. Gone was the clumsy, sluggish man I’d kidnapped two months ago. He was radiating with a healthy glow, his skin rosy, his eyes bright and focused.

“I’m not… overdressed, am I? Or underdressed?” he asked, his reflection arching an eyebrow as he went fishing for crumbs about tonight’s plans.

“I mean, only overdressed in the way that I prefer you naked. Although maybe you should wear your tights, instead. I do love how the Spandex makes your ass look. We could do a little role play… I’ll be the naughty villain, and you can punish me.”

“Very funny,” he said, laughing. Our gazes met and held, and he smirked, his kissable lips tipping up on one side. “Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t be going anywhere but back to bed.”

“So tempting, but I’m afraid we have a reservation that can’t be missed.” I stood and drew him into my arms, planting a slow, sensual kiss on his mouth, before sliding my hand down the back of his pants to find him slick and ready for me.

I allowed him just a taste, inserting the tip of my finger, before pulling back, making him groan in frustration.

“You’re such a tease,” he griped, but he should’ve known by now, I was a man of my word; I always delivered.

I gave him one last gentle kiss before turning and heading for the door. “I’ll be back, I have to make a quick phone call. You’d better hurry and get yourself a fresh pair of pants. Those ones appear to be a bit… damp.”

“And whose fault is that?” he sassed as I walked out the door, but I didn’t look back—I couldn’t. Because if I saw him looking all sweet and sexy, blushing the way I knew he was, then I might’ve wavered in my plans, and that was no longer an option. There was no turning back.

Already, I could feel my walls going back up, brick by brick, and a chill had begun to spread through me. I was bracing myself for the farewell I knew was coming.

I was pulling out my phone as I rounded the corner, and I wasn’t watching where I was going, so I nearly ran into the hunched figure there. “Gah! Zeek, what the fuck! Why are you lurking?”

He tilted his pasty face up, and I was surprised when he looked me straight in the eye; he was usually too terrified to make direct eye contact, opting instead to be more demure and submissive. I’d noticed lately, though, that he was becoming more bold in our interactions. I’d even caught him sneaking back into the tunnels the other night, when he hadn’t asked for permission to leave the lair.

“A-Are you going to hurt him?” he asked, squaring off his shoulders and clenching his jaw.

“Who, Cameron? No, of course not!” I shouldn’t have been so offended by his suggestion, because it was what the old Deimos would’ve done.

A small inner voice whispered that it could be argued that what I was about to do would indeed hurt him, just not in the way Zeek suggested.

“Good, because otherwise I would… I would…” he sputtered, his face turning an unnatural shade of puce.

I bent down and narrowed my eyes at him, spearing him with a sharp warning glare. “You would what?” I snarled.

If I’d expected him to back down, I was sorely mistaken. He drew in a deep breath, pursed his lips, his lone eyebrow dipping in the middle. “I wouldquit!” he spat.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I seethed, but I knew he was telling the truth. He’d grown quite attached to Cameron while caring for him. I wasn’t angry about his attitude, though; instead, I found a strange swelling of something close to pride rise up within me.

He opened his mouth, and I slapped a hand over it before he could say something he couldn’t take back. “Don’t say something we willboth regret.” I closed my eyes and took a deep cleansing breath, trying to ignore the cold, damp flesh under my hand. Then I opened my eyes and straightened, composing myself. “Cameron and I are going for dinner. You may take the night off.”

His eyes widened before suspicion slid in place over his expressions. “I-I can?” I’d never made such an offer before, and he was clearly expecting it to be a trap.

“Yes, of course. Go on, do whatever it is that demons do when they let loose. Just… don’t tell me about it later. I don’t want to know.” I waved him off, then brushed past him before he could divine the motive for my generosity. The truth was, since he’d decided to grow a conscience, I didn’t want him around to witness all that was about to happen.

Once I was out of earshot, I dialed and brought my phone to my ear. He picked up the call mid-ring, but he didn’t say anything. Looked like we were no longer on speaking terms. “Phobos? I’ve decided you can have your sidekick back.”

“Are we there yet?” he asked not for the first time, like a stereotypical child. The maze of tunnels beneath the city was not always the shortest route.

“Just a little further,” I encouraged, tugging him by our joined hands.

Cameron and I finally emerged from the underground entrance, disguised as my private office, straight into the back of La Trattoria del Cuore, the favorite of my recently acquired businesses. It wasromantic, with its small tables, low lighting, stone and wood accents, and the large fireplace in the center that I’d chosen to leave when going through renovations.

Instead of being awed or charmed, though, Cameron froze, his feet stuck to the floor when I tried to urge him forward. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” I asked.

“Uh, it’s lovely, just… your brother invited me for dinner here and—”

“Say no more,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to hear about my brother right now. In the end, he always won, but for just this one night, I wanted Cameron to pick me. “Let’s move on to plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” he asked.

---