Page 61 of The Primary Pest
“What you feel belongs to Anton. You know nothing of me.”
“I know what I’ve seen. And you barely know me, yet here we are.”
Despite his gruff demeanor, Dmytro took his hand and laced their fingers together. He brought them to his lips for soft kisses over each knuckle. “Here we are.”
Dmytro dropped Ajax’s hand and moved forward slowly. If Ajax hadn’t wanted his kiss so badly, he could have avoided it a hundred different ways. Instead he lifted his face, and Dmytro gave him the most delicate, the most hesitant kiss Ajax had ever gotten from anyone.
Dmytro’s shy grin crushed him, utterly. He was adorable.
He drew back, flushing like he’d been caught masturbating at prom. “This is weird.”
“What?” asked Ajax. “Kissing?”
“Kissing you.” Dmytro glanced away again. “With you I give butterfly kisses. I don’t know how to act.”
“Well, I am injured.” Ajax thumbed his cut lip. “Plus, there’s a time and place for all kinds of kisses. I loved your sweet kiss just now, but it was super hot when you jammed your fingers down my throat. Put that one down in your diary as ayes, more, please.”
“Oh yeah?” Dmytro tilted his head and shot him a sexy glance through his lashes. “You like it a little rough?”
“Sometimes.” Ajax brushed Dmytro’s thick hair off his brow. “Sometimes I want things slow and sexy, and sometimes I want it red-hot. I want it all.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Dmytro rolled his eyes.
“My point is…” Ajax held his gaze. “I could have it all with a man who was willing to try it all with me. You gonna be that man?”
“It’s… complicated.” An emotional shadow passed over Dmytro’s face. “I don’t know if I can be that for anyone again, after Yulia. I don’t know how.”
“I understand.” Ajax swallowed the burn in his throat before he turned away.
Dmytro caught his shoulder. “No, you don’t. My life isn’t simple like the life of a boy who has everything. Who has no responsibility. Whose parents adore him. Whose life will play out on the world’s stage—supporting charities, traveling, living in the public eye, cutting ribbons and—”
Ajax sat back. “Is that what you think? That I’m the crown prince of some American megafamily and all I’ll do once I go home is conform?”
Dmytro pulled his hand back. “I know you won’t go back to being Ajax Freedom.”
“Of course not. But whatever I do, I’ll be my own man. I’ll make my own way, and if that includes charity or travel, so be it. I want my own family, too. I want friends and fun and meaningful work. I want to be part of something real. You could be a force for good in my life, Dmytro. Our worlds aren’t that far apart.”
Dmytro stared at him for a long time. “You can always hire me through Iphicles if you need security.”
“You deliberately misunderstand me.” Ajax clasped his hands together to keep from reaching out. Somehow, at some point, Dmytro had become his rock. Now, he needed that rock. He wanted to be able to lean on it—to hold on to it through thick or thin—and it was as if he was drifting farther away from it with every word. “I don’t want security—not the way you think, anyway.”
“You are twenty-two years old, Ajax. You can’t know what you want. Especially when you’re under my protection and your emotions are confused by gratitude.”
Ajax huffed a laugh. “The Iphicles safe house was compromised, the car broke down. I got shot at. I am on a boat even though I have both claustrophobia and violent motion sickness. I despise boats. You think I’m confused by gratitude? I don’t think that word means what youthinkit means…” Ajax swallowed. “Is there someone else?”
“I’m thirty-six. I have children.” Dmytro scrubbed his face with both hands. “I—I must live for them now. Not for myself. There is no one else but my girls. What I wantcan’t matter. Can’t you understand that?”
A light came on for Ajax. “You don’t trust me not to hurt you. You think I’ll worm my way into your life and then leave you alone in it, like—”
“Don’t say it.” Dmytro’s tone chilled him.
“I’m right. Say it. You think this is situational or that I’ll change my mind in six months. That I’ll meet your girls and break all your hearts—”
“Even if I thought that, how can this be anything else?” Dmytro asked sadly. “Iphicles HQ is in Seattle. You’ll resume your normal LA life, and I will go back to mine.”
“And you think there’s no way to bridge that gap between us?”
“What I think is”—Dmytro gave his phone a glance—“not important. My girls are calling. I’m going to take it upstairs.”
