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He’d never felt the sort of love that made him giddy and breathless with it. To Luke’s utter disappointment, what happened in romance novels was the complete opposite of what he experienced in real life. But then again, maybe he just had a special talent for falling into bed with jerks.
It was nice to see that love this strong really existed and happily-ever-afters weren’t a thing of fairy tales. Biting his lip, Luke lifted his eyes to the moon. He should probably go back inside. But God, he was sick of being on the receiving end of pitying and concerned looks,
Another burst of laughter came from inside the house. Luke swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Not for the first time since his return to England, he felt like an outsider among his friends. He didn’t feel like he belonged here.
But then again, he wasn’t sure where he belonged anymore. If he were honest with himself, it might be one of the reasons why he’d latched onto Dominic so fast. Dominic hadn’t known him before.
Whimpering against Roman’s mouth, Luke wrapped his legs around his waist and let Roman carry him…somewhere. At least he thought they were moving, but thinking was hard, thinking was bloody impossible while his entire body was shuddering with carnal and emotional need.
Roman cursed before leaning down and sucking the skin of Luke’s cheek into his mouth, where one of his dimples was. He kept on sucking. He was going to leave a love bite for sure. “Stop,” Luke managed.
His entire body protested when Roman pulled back. The streetlight lamp wasn’t bright enough for him to discern Roman’s expression. “Seeing someone?” Roman said. Feeling oddly uneasy, Luke nodded. It was a very small white lie, wasn’t it? He and
Dominic weren’t together yet, but they had a tentative understanding that they would be. They were dating. Sort of. “He’s great,” Luke said. “I like him a lot. So I wouldn’t fool around with you even if you weren’t…you. I’m not a cheater. I despise cheating.” Roman had the nerve to look amused. “I see you’re still the same sentimental, foolish boy with your head stuck in the clouds.”
can’t give you what you want, either,” Roman said testily. “No,” Luke agreed. “But you can give me what I need.”
Roman sucked in a breath. “I’m not sorting out your father’s mess for a pair of dimples and a pretty mouth.” His tone was harsh, but Luke wasn’t fooled. Closing his eyes, he whispered, nothing but raw honesty in his voice, “I’m scared. I need you to make it better. Make it better.” Roman swore in Russian and hung up.
A lone figure stood opposite the lift, leaning against the back of the couch. Luke had his arms hugging his chest, his shoulders stiff, his brown eyes wide, curls framing his heart-shaped face. The room was eerily quiet as Roman walked toward him. Luke watched him like a prey would watch an approaching predator. It was pretty damn ironic. Roman felt like he was the one caught and pulled toward the deceivingly harmless prey. He came to a halt a few inches away from the boy, crowding him against the back of the couch.
Instead, Roman rolled on his back, wondering if Luke had any idea what he’d gotten himself into. He was so young, only twenty-three. Did the boy truly realize there was no going back for him? Because Roman would never let him go.
