Page 69 of His Secret Betrayal
Has he been sitting at home, worried, this entire time?
“I spoke with Caleb,” I say softly, hating the way he refuses to meet my gaze.
“If you have bad news, I don’t want to hear it right now.”
Approaching him slowly, cautiously, half afraid he’ll bolt, my own muscles tense at the sight of his rigid posture. My hands rest on his shoulders, where I begin kneading and massaging the tight muscles. After a moment, his shoulders slump and he releases a breathy sigh.
Something about the subtle relaxation makes me want to continue petting and stroking, crooning sweet nothings in his ear until he’sputty in my hands. Until his hands begin sweeping along my body in return, seeking pleasure while he whines into my kisses.
First, we have to talk.
I tsk at him, although there’s no real heat behind it. “I thought I told you I would handle it.”
He scoffs. “Pretty sure son trumps pathetic, clingy boyfriend.”
My lips tug into a frown, displeasure rippling through me like a dark cloud. Threading my fingers through his dark blonde strands, I tug his head back. My lips seal over his in a possessive, domineering kiss that tells him in no uncertain terms that I don’t see him as pathetic or clingy. He’s mine, and I don’t like it when he doesn’t handle what’s mine with care. I give his lips a nip before pulling away.
“Two things,” I mutter darkly. “First of all, everything with Caleb is fine.”
He blinks. “What?”
I smirk. “He was more shocked than anything, and I’m sure it’ll take a while to get used to seeing us together. But he seemed to accept it by the time we left the diner.”
His entire chest deflates, a whoosh of relief escaping him as he blinks up at me, those long lashes fluttering. “Thank fuck.”
“Second of all,” I continue, the steely rumble in my voice making his eyes widen. “You’re going to stop talking about yourself like that.”
He swallows before softly admitting, “I—she gets in my head sometimes.”
God, that woman really isn’t fit to be a mother.
“And I did trust you to handle it, but I was still afraid it wouldn’t be enough to save us,” he continues.
Unable to help myself—I fucking hate that forlorn look on his face—I sweep him into my arms before sitting back down on the chair with him in my lap and my chest plastered to his back. He makesa surprised little yelp but relaxes into my hold when my arms snake around his waist.
I nip playfully at his ear. “This isn’t one of those smutty romance books you like to read. There isn’t going to be a third-act break-up here. We get to control the narrative, and I’m keeping you.”
“Alek,” he whispers, turning his head until his lips are brushing over mine. “I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t think I’ll ever want to give you up.”
The whispered confession does something funny inside me, the words exploding like confetti in my chest. Maybe it makes me a selfish bastard to saddle myself with a man nineteen years younger than me, but when it comes to Luke Parker, I am greedy. I’ll hoard any piece of himself he chooses to give me, because he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
Love is addicting like that.
“Then don’t,” I say.
We stay seated at the kitchen table, my arms wrapped around him and my face buried in his hair for a long time. Both of us are silent, content to bask in each other’s presence.
“Tell me what you need from me tonight and I’ll give it to you,” I whisper. I’ll do and be anything he needs. There’s no burden too heavy to bear, no secret too scandalous to keep, no dark part of him I won’t accept.
“If we lay down for a while…will you hold me?” he asks.
“Always.”
Luke
“Such a needy little thing,” Alek rumbles into my ear, his warm breath fanning over my goose-bumped skin. I whine my agreement even as I chase his lips. He lets me kiss him, my hands roaming down his torso—currently covered in a white t-shirt, a crime—as I wiggle on his lap where I sit perched atop it on the couch.
“I like kissing you,” I mumble against his mouth, both ofour lips kiss-swollen.
