Page 168 of Kiss the Villain

“Life is too short. All I need to know is that we’re sexually compatible and that I wanted you from the first time I saw you.”

I form aVat my chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Because I’m beautiful?”

“There’s that, but I also wanted to explore that untapped rebellious submissive streak I saw in your eyes when I had my shoe on your cock and you trembled.”

“Asshole,” I mutter, stroking a line across his chest.

He laughs. “Wasn’t I right?”

“Fine. I love the pain and submission, but only if you’re the one dominating me and making me take it.”

“And that’s how it’ll always be.”

“Deal.” I grin. “Back to my earlier suggestion. When will you come to meet my family?”

“Not now.” I feel him stiffen.

“Why not?”

He strokes my hair. “Remember when I told you I couldn’t come out for security reasons?”

“Yeah.”

“I truly can’t. My family wouldn’t accept it.”

“But Rachel and Jina…”

“Can’t set foot in the States if they want to remain safe. I can only see them when I travel to Europe.”

“Oh.” My heart sinks. “Is your family one of those that’s homophobic bigots?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Massive pain in the ass—no pun intended.”

“Can’t you just disown them?”

“It’s not that simple.”

I swallow hard, the weight of it hitting me. I thought the professor-student thing was our only hurdle, but this feels bigger, and more permanent.

“So there’s no hope?” I whisper.

“There’s always hope.” He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering as if to reassure me. “Just give me time, baby, okay?”

I nod, grinning as he strokes my dimples. He’s obsessed with them—probably why I’ve been smiling more than usual lately.

It’s not because I actually feel like I’m bursting out of my skin with excitement whenever I see him or anything equally ridiculous.

I let my fingers skim over his collarbone, the strong lines there. “Sooo does this mean we’re in a relationship now?”

“Weren’t we always?”

“We were?”

“That’s what being exclusive means.”

“V said fuck buddies are different from relationships.”

His hand fists in my hair, tightening his grip. “Who’s V?”

---