Page 21 of The Mourning Throne
Lex had almost forgotten he was still there.
Ollie looked up sharply, eyes flicking to Morgan like he’d forgotten him too. His shoulders rose, shrinking in. He glanced left. Right. Like he expected someone to be watching.
Ollie leaned in toward Morgan, whispering like he’d been caught. “Am I that obvious?”
Morgan’s grin was all teeth. “A little.”
He reached into his jacket and drew out a pack, flicking the top open with a thumb and holding it out.
“I could go for a smoke if you’d like company.”
“I—I shouldn’t.” Ollie laughed, weak and shaky. “I told everyone I quit. Ireallyshouldn’t.”
Lex laid his hand over Ollie’s, fingers brushing against his knuckles—and there was no flinching. No recoil. Nowhy are you touching mesquint of suspicion.
“We’re pretty good at keeping secrets,” Lex said, equally quiet. “It’s safe with us.”
Ollie hesitated. His gaze flicked between Lex and Morgan—lingering a second too long on the latter, like he was weighing some instinct he didn’t understand.
“Alright,” he said. “One won’t kill me.”
He pushed off the bar, cigarette in hand, and murmured something about seeing them outside.
But Morgan didn’t move.
Neither did Lex.
Not yet.
Morgan’s hand ghosted up the back of Lex’s neck, slow and deliberate, fingers sliding under the collar of his shirt. It made Lex shiver even when he didn’t mean to.
“You’re a natural,” Morgan said quietly.
Lex turned his head, grinning. “Was that another compliment, Morgan?”
“Not when it’s the truth.”
Leaning back against Morgan, Lex laughed. “Careful. If you keep praising me, I might remember I have more than two brain cells to rub together. What then?”
Morgan’s hand tightened, just enough to pull a sharp little breath from Lex.
“Then I’ll just have to remind you who taught you everything you know.”
Lex tilted his head back, lips parting slightly. Enough. A dare. “And who is that?”
Morgan didn’t bother answering.
He leaned in.
The kiss was heat and gravity. Not sweet. No fanfare. Just pressure and purpose.
His mouth firm, sure, the kind of kiss that claimed space—marked it.
Lex hummed into it, soft and pleased, tasting bourbon on Morgan’s lips, tastingcontrol. The thick, quietmineof it all.
He wanted this exact fucking moment to last forever.
Outside, the street was mostly empty. The noise from whatever restaurant above the club turned into a muffled echo.
