Page 92 of King of Pain
I can admit it to myself now.
He's so fucking hot with endless miles of muscle, all that ink, and that V that dips into his—
I never stood a chance.
I look up and catch his eyes as he watches me hungrily take in his body. His voice is rough with sleep as he warns, “You’re killing me, Ant. I'm patient, but there's only so much a man can take.”
I smirk. “Wait. Don't move.”
His brow furrows, and he glances around like he’s expecting some kind of trick. I take a slow, deliberate step forward, closingthe space between us until the heat rolling off his skin wraps around me.
My hand finds the back of his neck, fingertips skimming just enough to make him shiver. His breath catches, his pupils darken and his throat bobs on a labored swallow.
I lean in, painfully slow, dragging it out, teasing, letting himanticipatethe moment before pressing my lips to his cheek. But I don’t pull away. I let my lips linger, just a second longer than is fair, just long enough for his breath to stutter.
Then, ever so slightly, I shift—my lips brushing the shell of his ear as I whisper, “Oops. I missed.”
I pause, feeling the way his pulse kicks under my fingers, his body coiled tight like a string ready to snap.
“Maybe,” I murmur, lips barely ghosting his skin, “you’llhave better aim than me at the end of the night.”
I let the words hang between us before stepping back, smirking as I meet his dazed, blown-out gaze.
“Happy birthday, sexy man.”
A smile splits my face as Chance's eyes come back online. His voice is husky as he grumbles, “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you? I’m going to expire at the ripe old age of twenty-two.”
I laugh as he walks past me, and on instinct, I let my hand glide against his abs. My eyes drop to see the tent I caused in his satin bottoms. Fuck, I love those pants. I’m buying him a dozen more pairs.
I look back up and grin at him. “Get some coffee and grab a seat at the table. I'm making your favorite breakfast. Little G already went out.”
He yawns, comes to a stop, and stretches his arms above his head, causing the pants to slide even further down his hips. They’re barely hanging on, revealing more of the top of those big, perfect globes.
Nowhe’sthe one trying to kill me.
“Chocolate chip pancakes?” he says after torturing me. I’m not complaining. “Wow, I just woke up, and this day already couldn't get any better. Do I have time to throw on a shirt and call Ma? She wanted me to call her when I woke up.”
“Yeah, absolutely. I'd love to say hi, too.”
Chance grins. “Oh, you wouldn’t get away with not saying hi. I’m pretty sure I can’t claim to be her favorite son anymore.”
I throw my head back and laugh. I don’t even care if it’s true. I just love that he knows how much she means to me. Mary and I have talked and texted regularly since Thanksgiving. In that short time, she’s provided more warmth and motherly advice than my mom has… in my entire life.
So yeah, she means the world to me.
And so does he.
After pulling on a T-shirt, Chance comes out and props his phone up against his mug of coffee on the dining table before calling Ma. A moment later, Mary’s sunny voice fills the room.
“Happy birthday! How's my beautiful son?”
Chance smirks. “I don’t know, you’ll have to askhim.” He picks up the phone and moves over to the kitchen, making sure I’m in the frame.
Mary’s face lights up. “Oh yes, hello, beautiful other son.”
I laugh but reply with sincerity, “You'll never know what that means to me.” Then, without hesitation, I lean my head against Chance’s, and she gasps.
“Oh, look at the two of you. My heart is happy.”
