Eve: Are you coming home anytime soon?
Eve: I need some money.
Silencing my phone, I flip it over so I can’t see the screen. I don’t miss the way Alek scowls at it, and I can’thelp winking at him. He huffs, turning back to the stove and flipping our pancakes on the skillet. Rounding the kitchen table, I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.
His bare waist.
He initially stiffens when the cool skin of my chest brushes against the bumpy texture of scars along his back, but when I place gentle nipping kisses along the slope of his neck, he relaxes. Leaning back into my embrace, he hums absentmindedly as my hand sweeps up the muscled rows of his abs. I glide my hands up a little higher, brushing my thumbs around his nipples until they turn into hard little peaks. Being allowed to finally explore his body, now that I understand his initial reluctance, feels like a privilege.
He sucks in a quiet breath when my semi-hard erection brushes along his ass, chuckling quietly. “Does that thing ever go down?”
I grin. “Nope. It knows who makes it feel good, big guy.”
He fumbles the spatula, a few drops of pancake batter splattering to the floor in the process. I clamp my lips together, feeling rather giddy that I can elicit such a response in him. Peering down his magnificent body, I can’t help but notice his hardening cock tents the front of his sweatpants.
The gray sweatpants that look absolutely delicious and make me want to get on my knees again.
“Okay, new rule. No being sassy while I’m cooking,” Alek grumbles, but I don’t miss the husky undertone of his voice.
“Sooo, does that mean a blowie is off the table, too?”
His breath hitches, his knuckles turning white on the spatula before sending me a glare over his shoulder. “Now you’re distracting me on purpose. I ought to punish you.”
The wordpunishsends a bolt of heat to my gut, and I nearly moan. “Would it involve your hands on me?”
“Perhaps.”
I lick my lips before murmuring into his ear, “Then it wouldn’t be much of a punishment, would it?”
He spins around, invading my space and making my dick even harder. Backing me against the refrigerator, his hand lightly clasps the back of my neck as he grinds his erection against mine. “One of these days, I’m going to—”
A light tap against the front door, followed by creaking hinges has us freezing. Then, “Hey, Dad!”
“Jesus Christ,” Alek hisses, brows rising in a surprised arc.
“Fuck,” I mutter at the same time, both of us springing away from the other. Something that sounds suspiciously like a suitcase landing on the entryway tile has my muscles tightening in a rather unpleasant way.
“Did you know he was coming over?” I ask, unable to keep the accusation out of my voice.
His eyes narrow. “No, but he’s my son. He doesn’t exactly need an invitation—”
Another suitcase thumps onto the tile, followed by a breathless grunt.
I begin to panic, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making me twitchy. “That’s not what I meant. What are we gonna do?” I hiss. I’m not ready to tell Caleb I’m banging his dad, and I sure as shit don’t want him to walk in on us while our dicks are still half-hard. My eyes dart to the nearest window. Maybe if I’m fast enough, I can climb on the counter and—
A displeased, angry rumble comes from Alek as he gives me a stern look. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Shit. If I weren’t in panic mode right now, I’m pretty sure I would be coming. He’s so hot when he gets all stern and bossy.
My armsflail. “Then what the fuck do you suggest—”
His hands clamp onto my shoulders, pushing me down into a kitchen chair and scooting me closer to the table to hide my flagging erection. He quickly turns back to the stove, casually flipping pancakes.
“Just act normal and tell him you needed a place to stay for a few days,” he mumbles.
Ohhhh. Right. Definitely better than climbing out the window and getting caught with my ass stuck on the windowsill. Why didn’t I think of that?
Caleb enters the kitchen in his customary hoodie and jeans outfit, freezing when he sees me at the table, his eyes blinking repeatedly.
