Page 14 of Prelude of Love

“You need sleep, not more sex.” Duke kissed my thigh before sitting up. “And maybe a gag.”

“Ooh, kinky. Is that a promise?” I caught his hand as he moved to get up. “Stay?”

His expression softened. “Let me rinse this off first.”

I watched him disappear into the bathroom again, admiring the play of muscles across his strong back. When he returned, he slid into bed and pulled me closer so I could use his chest as a pillow.

“Better?” Duke asked.

“It would be better if you were inside me again,” I grumbled, but I snuggled closer anyway. “I love when you lose control.”

Duke frowned. “That’s what worries me.”

“About Chance?” I propped myself up on my elbows, studying the concern etched across his handsome face. His furrowed brow made me want to smooth away his concerns with kisses, but I knew this conversation needed to happen.

“He’s fucking twenty-two, Duchess.”

I shrugged. “So? Bolton was twenty-three when we met him, and that worked out perfectly.”

“Until he moved to Wintervale.”

“Which had nothing to do with us and everything to do with his job.” I moved to hold his gaze. “Bolton got a better opportunity, and we were all happy for him. It ended how it should have, with wonderful memories and no regrets.”

Duke frowned but said nothing.

“Besides, you act like Chance hasn’t already had plenty of experiences with threesomes,” I pointed out. “He’s an LA guy. He knows what we’re about.”

“I don’t understand why you want him specifically.”

I propped my chin on his chest, meeting his troubled gaze. “Because he reminds me of myself at that age.”

“How so?”

“That mask of confidence hiding deep insecurity?” My smile turned wistful as memories of my younger self surfaced. “The way he desperately wants to be seen as more than a pretty face and nepo baby? We’re exactly what he needs. You to show him his true strength, me to show him his worth. I can guarantee he’ll make better music because of it.”

Duke pulled me closer, his broad hand splaying across my lower back. “If—and that’s abigif—we consider this, he won’t be interested in men who are almost as old as his father. We’re practically ancient to him.”

My laugh was sharp and knowing. “Hon, if you don’t think Chance has daddy issues with Sir Prince as his father, you’re deluding yourself. Come on, look at his social media posts. It’s a masterclass in ‘Notice me, Daddy.’” I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, pulling up Chance’s profile. “Half his posts are either thirst traps or passive-aggressive comments about Sir’s latest relationship.”

“Those could be marketing posts.”

“Oh, sure. Like this one?” I scrolled to a photo of Chance sprawled across his bed, shirtless, with thecaption, “Turning my daddy issues into song lyrics tonight.”

“Fine, point taken.” Duke’s chest rumbled with reluctant laughter.

I set my phone aside, shifting to better see Duke’s face. “Face it, hon. We’re exactly his type.”

“His type for what? A quick fuck to spite his dad?”

I rolled my eyes. “Look how he gravitates toward older men in positions of authority. His manager, his vocal coach, even that director he’s working with are all established guys in their late thirties or early forties.”

“Playing armchair psychologist now, Duchess?”

“Please. We’ve been watching Sir’s kid grow up in the spotlight since he was sixteen. The signs are all there.” I traced my finger along Duke’s collarbone. “He needs stability. Structure. Someone to teach him his worth isn’t tied to album sales or likes on social media.”

Duke stopped my wandering hand. “Do you think we’re the ones to do that?”

“Who better? You’re already halfway to adopting every stray who walks into Hurly-burly looking lost, and I’m excellent at emotional support and sexual healing.”

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