Page 97 of Devil's Kiss

“Oh yeah. What gave me away? The way I almost came in your hand?”

“Cheeky.”

“You were so fucking hot that night. If I hadn’t had an exam the next day…”

“Mhmm.” Jordan molded his body against Derek’s side, and before he knew he was going to, he heard himself ask, “So, why me?”

Derek chuckled. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, Derek. We aren’t exactly a likely pair.”

“Maybe,” he said, then turned his head on the pillow. “But from the very beginning we always, I don’t know, found each other. More often than not in the middle of arguments or?—”

“Sex?”

“Yes,” Derek agreed, and reached across to take Jordan’s hand. “But it’s more than just sex. You ground me. You make me believe in the impossible. You make it all seem obtainable. And you make me want to be better…for you.”

Jordan’s breath caught when Derek placed a kiss in his palm and then laid it over his heart. The move was so uncharacteristic of Derek, and so intimate for them, that Jordan recognized it for what it was.

This was another perfect moment.

He’d been accused of missing the first one, where Derek had told him he loved him, but Jordan sure as hell wasn’t going to miss this. He gently kissed Derek’s mouth, about to tell him how much he meant to him when the intercom buzzed and life intruded.

Chapter 27

DEREK CLOSED HIS eyes as Jordan got off the bed and grabbed a robe from the closet. He heard Jordan huff as he walked over to the intercom panel in the bedroom and then mutter, “Perfect timing.”

Pressing down on the button, he said, “Hello,” sounding extremely put out.

“J?”

The female voice was unfamiliar to Derek, but if the way Jordan’s hand flew off the button and he looked at him with huge eyes, she wasn’t to Jordan.

“Jordan?”

“Oh my God,” he said, and before Derek could ask what the problem was, the intercom started buzzing again. “Oh. My.God.”

Derek laughed at the usually put together man as he kind of…well, fell the fuck apart. “Jordan? You gonna get that? Who is it?”

Jordan shook his head and then rushed across his room toward the bathroom. When he came out with Derek’s shorts and shirt in his hands and tossed them on the bed, Derek frowned.

“Put them on. We don’t have long.”

Not having a clue what was going on, Derek sat up and reached for his shorts. He’d just pulled them up and was making a grab for his shirt when a woman called throughout the penthouse.

“Oh, J! My sweet boy. Where are you?”

“Jordan? Who the—” Derek didn’t get to finish his question because Jordan’s bedroom door was flung open, and standing in the massive doorway with a wide-brimmed hat and a set of glasses in hand was a woman who looked as though she’d stepped off anItalian Voguecover.

From her black skyscraper heels, to the snug fit of her cream pencil skirt and fitted black blouse, she appeared elegant and sophisticated. Her mahogany hair was swept off her face and pinned to the top of her head, and around her neck was a cream-colored scarf. She looked as though she was worth a million dollars.

As her dark eyes took in the scene before her—Derek standing by the side of an unmade bed in only his shorts and Jordan wrapped in a robe with his hair every which way—she headed across the room with her arms outstretched to the man who, less than an hour ago, had fucked Derek as though his life depended on it.

“There’s my sweet boy. Come give your mother a hug.”

JORDAN LOOKEDPAST his mother’s shoulder to where Derek was now pulling his shirt down, and wished that he could see his face.

What is he thinking?