Page 32 of Filthy Sweet

I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I turn toward the glass vases, I notice that the man who offered to buy me a drink is standing and looking straight at us. He is incredibly handsome, and it flatters my ego that he’s interested in me, but as far as I’m concerned, Fox is the only person in the world right now.

“He’s giving you one last chance,” Fox says, his voice steady, devoid of emotion, maybe purposefully.

“Oh.” I sip from my cocktail, then set it aside. “Even if it’s technically fine, I still probably shouldn’t, right? Like you’re trying to lay low, and maybe people would be like, oh, Fox’s date isn’t into him anymore. How uncool.” I adjust my glasses. “Or something.”

I realize I’m kind of fishing, but I really, really want him to tell me that I need to stay right here. It kind of hurts that he isn’t saying it.

Fox tightens his brow. His jaw sets, and maybe he’s frustrated that I’m babbling about this, although that doesn’t seem like him.

“Please,” he says gently. “Never let me stop you from going after what you want, Owen.”

My heart kicks. I want Fox. I want Fox so fucking bad, but I’m still too scared to actually say that, so I just stand in front of him, wordless and tingly and emotional.

Before I can figure out what to do, the man approaches us. He walks up confidently, his back straight and his eyes set on Fox.

He turns to me. “Apologies for the interruption,” he says, then returns his gaze to my fake date. “I’m in the city this weekend, and you’re the only man who has caught my attention. I don’t mean to be so forward, but before I return to my hotel, may I leave you with my number?”

My heart sinks.

The guy is into Fox.

Shit. Of course he is, though. Why would he be into me when Fox is standing right there?

Fox frowns, and I hear a slight growl in his voice. “You offered to buy my friend a drink.”

The man blinks. “That was a mistake. The waiter—”

“Then you should be more fucking clear next time,” Fox interrupts him. He tenses, his neck bulging, almost like he’s going to shove the man. The tension that was sizzling beneath the surface a moment ago snaps. I instinctively reach out to grab Fox’s arm, but the stranger steps back first.

The man grunts under his breath. “Fuck off,” he says, then walks away.

“Oh god,” I say. “You didn’t have to do that.” I feel embarrassed and like I’m suddenly way too emotional to be at a sex party. “Of course he was looking at you,” I mumble and try to force a laugh. “You should go after him, if you’re interested,” I add because I feel like I have to.

“Owen,” Fox says, almost offended. “I’m not going after him. I’m here with you.”

My hands feel shaky. “It’s okay.” I avoid his eyes, crashing back down into my doubts, a pit of insecurity. “I’m not even trying to meet someone at a place like this. I like it here. A lot, actually. Like it would be so fun to have sex in a place like this, although I never realized I wanted that until I said it right now. But I’m only here because you invited me.” I look back, locking Fox’s gaze, desperate to shut up but somehow incapable of closing my mouth. “You should go home with him, if you want.”

Fuck. What is wrong with me sometimes?

“Owen.” Fox reaches out and lays his hand on my cheek. The soft pressure of his touch hums through me, and I stop talking as the world goes still. “I want to be here with you. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say, relaxing more. His hand stays on my cheek, caressing me. “Thanks.”

“What about you?” Fox lets out a slow, ragged breath. “What do you want?”

I exhale. “I don’t know.”

Fox rubs his thumb across my cheek, and neither of us move. There’s energy radiating between our bodies, and I hear people moaning and groaning behind the music. My cock is hard, and I feel like a wish is being granted as the world disappears around us.

“I think you do know,” he says, his voice strong and steady. “Tell me.”

I hold his eye, and somehow, through the tidal waves of emotion crashing down, I manage to tell him the truth.

“I want you, Fox.”

Chapter Eleven

Fox

---