Page 2 of Devoted Sinner

“Not originally. I had parents. A pastor for a father and his obedient wife. The moment they realized I hadn’t turned out the way they expected, that I was a sinner, they tossed me aside.”

“I can’t imagine anything my son could do to make me toss him aside.” Bryson was thoroughly horrified. He genuinely tried to think of anything at all that Kylian could do that would make him give him up, and there was literally nothing. Even if his son turned out to be a serial killer, he couldn’t stop loving him.

King looked his way while they were stopped at a light. He held Bryson’s stare. “That’s because you’re a good person and a good father. Not everyone is, and that’s doubly true for the people who often try to claim the most values. They think church gives them absolution in everything they do outside of that building.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not being proud of you.”

The light turned green. King looked away. “Like I said, you’re a good person.”

Bryson wasn’t so sure that was true. He took money from bad people and helped them achieve bad things. Bryson kept King with him when all he had to do was set him free. He assuaged his guilt by telling himself he paid King handsomely. But in his heart, he still understood King wasn’t free. Bryson held the contract on his life. If he left, all Bryson had to do was tell King’s former boss, Archer, and King would disappear permanently. Bryson would never do that, but he also hadn’t set King free despite the money being nothing to him. He told himself—in a way—he kept King safe. King had seen too much. There were people who would never let him live if he left Bryson’s care. But, in the end, none of that mattered because the truth still existed. King was a slave. That meant he would never be free to love Bryson.

Two years ago, King had met Bryson while working for someone else. He had dealings with King’s old boss. From the day they met, King felt Bryson’s gaze on him. His amber stare followed King’s every move. With anyone else, he might have been uncomfortable. King didn’t feel that way with Bryson. Of everyone King had ever served, Bryson was the kindest. That was the only reason King humored him by speaking at all. He didn’t owe anyone his words or thoughts. They might own him, but no one would ever own his mind. He chose who saw that.

King drove to a high-end mall in the center of Massachusetts. While he did some shopping there occasionally, his real goal was to head to one of the many restaurants inside. It was his favorite, and he’d never been there with Bryson before. He wasn’t sure if Bryson didn’t know the place existed, didn’t like it, or simply hadn’t taken King. Either way, Bryson had insisted King choose, so they were going.

After finding a spot in the parking garage, King circled the car and opened the door for Bryson. He held out his hand to help Bryson out of the car. It was a habit. They were both big guys, and it was a small car low to the ground. Plus, he liked it when Bryson touched him. King didn’t get a lot of human contact.

Bryson’s palm slid across his. Sometimes, King wondered if Bryson enjoyed these moments too. Unfortunately, despite the way he watched King, King had a sneaking suspicion Bryson was straight. He hadn’t dated in the ten months King had been with him. King thought maybe he was a workaholic. Otherwise, he didn’t know why Bryson always stayed home unless he was working or going somewhere with King. The man had a son and an ex-wife. He could be bisexual, but King doubted it. King chalked up any attraction on his behalf to being touch starved. Otherwise, they had nothing in common.

When Bryson released King’s hand, King fought a wave of disappointment. Again, touch starved. He couldn’t help it. King closed the door. Together, they headed inside the mall.

“What’s your favorite store here?”

King hadn’t expected to immediately admit to it being a restaurant that drew him here. Here they were, though. “Actually, this place has my favorite restaurant.”

Bryson’s sexy smile swung his way. “Really? You’ve been with me for almost a year, and you never said a thing. We’ve been out to eat countless times.”

King shrugged. “You’re the boss. We go where you want.”

Bryson’s smile faltered. “You’re allowed to have an opinion too. You’re not a prisoner, and I value your thoughts. In fact, I’d go as far as to say we’re friends.” He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “At least, you’re my friend.” Bryson’s expression turned somewhat hurt. “How pathetic, honestly. The only friend I have is someone I pay to be with me.” Bryson’s pace quickened, as if he didn’t want King to look at him any longer. King let him have his space.

When they reached the elevator, King reached past Bryson to push the button, calling for the lift. He spoke close to Bryson’s ear as he pressed the button. “You’re my friend. That has nothing to do with you paying me.” It was somewhat true. They were friends insomuch as they could be with Bryson knowing next to nothing about him.

Bryson turned his head. Their faces were inches apart. Neither of them moved. Bryson’s eyes were twice as beautiful up close. That adorable brown curl that always clung to his forehead and refused to behave made King want to touch it. The door opened, breaking the spell. King leaned away, waiting until Bryson climbed inside the elevator so he could physically protect his back.

King kept his gaze straight ahead as he hit the button, taking them upstairs. They held their silence as the elevator door opened inside the mall. They stepped out. King kept his gaze moving, searching for any threats.

“While I fully expect to experience this restaurant with you, tell me where you like to shop.”

The question made King uncomfortable. There were stores there where he shopped, but Bryson wouldn’t understand why. King motioned helplessly toward a nearby store. Bryson headed that way. They had to pass a posted security guard to get inside. All the stores in this mall were like that. Everything inside cost more than some people’s rent.

Bryson immediately headed for the men’s section. King watched his back. Bryson stopped at a rack and started fingering through the clothes. King glanced around. A pink cashmere sweater caught King’s eye. He glanced Bryson’s way. Bryson was still preoccupied. King took a chance and felt of the sweater. It was as soft as it looked. He doubted they had one in his size since it was meant for women. Still, he might have to come back later alone and check.

Before he released the sweater, Bryson caught him. They held each other’s stare. King released the top. His mind raced.

“It’s soft.” Even to his ears, he sounded guilty.

Bryson moved to the sweater and felt of it. “Damn. It really is. Why do women get all the cozy shit?”

King shrugged. “There’s nothing stopping you from wearing it. Clothing doesn’t have a gender.” He had no idea why he said that. King should have let it go.

To his relief, Bryson nodded. “That’s true.” Bryson moved on and grabbed a pink dress shirt. He held it up to King and eyed him. “Pink is your color, I think. Why don’t you wear it?”

He did. Just not around Bryson. King had another life. One very few people knew about. Instead of answering, King shrugged again.

Bryson put the shirt back and moved back to the pink sweater. He flipped through the sizes until he found the largest one. Bryson held it against King’s chest. “I think this would fit you. It would likely show your midriff.” Bryson’s gaze moved to hold King’s stare. “That would be okay, though.”

King couldn’t look away. For a second, he swore Bryson knew his secret. King also hadn’t been as attracted to anyone as he was in that moment. “I’d wear it.”

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