Page 14 of His Secret Betrayal (Cedarwood Valley Duology #2)

I reach up, my lips brushing against his. But he doesn’t kiss me back. His entire body freezes, the sound of his ragged inhale passing between us. My stomach plummets as he jumps back, a shocked expression on his face as he runs a hand through his hair.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I shift uncomfortably. “Shit. Did I read the room wrong?”

“No, but…” He averts his eyes, a pained expression passing over his features. “We can’t be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not…” He sighs, then holds a hand up. “I’m going to the restroom. ”

He turns on his heel, taking long strides until his silhouette disappears down a darkened hallway under a glowing, red neon sign for the bathroom.

“Fuck!” I hiss, rocking back on my heels and mentally willing my hard dick to deflate. Apparently, even a good dose of humiliating rejection isn’t enough to deter it.

But no… He wanted me. I know he did because I felt it against my ass.

So why did he reject me, again ? I groan as a well of frustration builds inside me, and I begin heading in the same direction he just disappeared in.

Maybe I should let him be, drop the subject and pretend this little mishap never happened.

But the rash, impulsive part of my brain is turned on. And it won’t rest until I have answers.

I walk to the end of the dimly lit hallway, past the closed door for the restroom, and lean against the wall.

When the door swings open, Alek doesn’t notice me right away and begins walking in the direction of the dancefloor again.

Wanting to catch his attention before he exits the semi privacy of the deserted hallway, I make my move.

Grasping his elbow, I try to pull him toward the door labeled supplies .

His entire body jolts as he makes a vicious, snarling noise. Before I have time to leap out of the way, he’s whirling around, grabbing a fistful of my shirt and shoving me backwards. My back hits the wall hard enough that I wheeze out a rather embarrassingly loud oof.

Alek pins his forearm across my throat just seconds before he seems to recognize me. He blinks, his mouth gaping with something resembling indignation and disbelief.

“Chill out, man. It’s just me,” I pant.

“Why the hell would you sneak up behind someone in a darkened hallway? I could have… hurt you.” He spits out the word hurt as if it tastes like bile.

“Yeah, I realize now maybe that wasn’t a good idea,” I say dryly, my heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird.

I’m a lover, not a fighter.

Alek huffs before shaking his head, his eyes darting toward the supply closet.

I don’t protest when his forearm moves away from my neck and a hand latches onto my shoulder.

I let him move me around like a puppet, dragging me toward the closet.

He throws the door open before unceremoniously shoving me inside.

The door clicks shut behind us, and we’re enveloped in darkness.

Alek curses under his breath, and I can vaguely make out the shape of fingers fumbling along the wall in search of a light switch.

He finds it, and a small light bulb overhead illuminates the room.

Shadows still dance in the corner of what is basically a cleaning supply closet.

The interior is no bigger than a gardening shed with rows upon rows of cleaning supplies.

He turns to me with thin lips and a heaving chest, disapproval all over his face. The so-called “hot daddy vibes” that Finn referred to a few days ago are in full force. He looks like he’s two seconds away from yanking my jeans down and spanking my bare ass.

Fuck me, that’s a hot fantasy.

Ten out of ten on the spank bank material.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls.

“That’s a loaded question, and there are so many possible answers,” I mutter.

He scowls, completely unamused.

I rub the back of my neck, my cheeks warming as I avert my eyes. “Why didn’t you kiss me back?”

Alek runs a hand over his face, his shoulders relaxing. “Is that why you felt the need to tackle me? ”

I cross my arms. “You’ve made it clear you want me, yet you’ve turned me down twice.”

His jaw clenches. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t do something rash and regret it later.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?”

He huffs out a disbelieving chuckle. “You aren’t even ready to admit that you like men, so why should I believe you’re ready for anything else?”

I scoff. “I’m attracted to other men. There you go . Is that enough, or do I need to admit I’m attracted to you , too? I’m starting to think you’re full of shit. Maybe you don’t even know what to do with me.”

His pupils darken, his eyes narrowing at my challenge. My pulse flutters wildly in my neck as he takes a calculated step forward. “Careful, Luke. You have no clue what you’re asking for.”

I crowd his space then, my heart beating out a nervous staccato as my breathing quickens. A threatening sort of rumble emits from his throat, his lip pulling back like he wants to snarl. But I don’t stop until I’m crowding his space, our foreheads nearly touching.

“Back off,” he warns.

So, I say the two words that are sure to snap his resistance. “Make. Me.”

I’m given exactly zero warning before I’m slammed against a wall for the second time tonight.

But this time, a thrill shoots right down the center of me.

Alek growls, grabbing the back of my neck and crushing his mouth against mine.

His firm lips kiss me with a bruising force, his body vibrating with tension as his fingers dig into the back of my scalp hard enough to sting.

He kisses me like I owe him money and he's making me pay up.

But he doesn’t stop there .

Heat pools in my belly, and I moan into his mouth as he pushes against my groin with his hips.

He grinds against me, his erection rubbing against my own.

His tongue makes demanding little flicks against the seam of my lips, his mouth swallowing my cry as I part for him.

My entire fucking world spins on its axis as he dry humps me into the wall, his tongue flicking in and out of my mouth in the same rhythm.

“Alek, please.”

“What do you want?” he hums against my mouth.

“I want more… I want you to touch me,” I admit in a low rasp, my fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt so tightly that my knuckles turn white. His movements stutter, and he drags in a ragged breath. Grabbing both of my hands, he guides them until they press against the wall palm down.

“Show me you can actually follow directions for once, and keep your hands here, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

I nod, probably looking a little too eager but fuck it.

“And everything that happens at the club tonight stays at the club,” he adds.

“Fine.”

His next move surprises me. I expect him to go straight for the main course, so to speak, for his hands to dive into my pants and wrap around my cock.

But instead, he tangles a hand into my hair.

It’s tied into a loose bun tonight, but he drags the hair tie out, until my dark blonde locks tumble across my shoulders.

The ravenous look he gives me while running a hand through it and grabbing a fistful makes me shudder.

He kisses me again, one thorough, deep kiss where his tongue flicks against the roof of my mouth.

Then he uses his hold on my hair to tilt my neck to the side, exposing it so he can suck the sensitive skin.

I practically melt into the wall as he makes his way down my neck and across my collarbone, pressing quick, nipping kisses along the way.

Releasing his hold on my hair, his hands slip under my shirt, a rumble tumbling from his throat as they glide along my abs and land on my pecs.

I moan as his thumbs circle my nipples, tweaking them before leaning down and tracing the areolas with his tongue. My head thumps against the wall, my eyelids fluttering at the sensation. My hips buck forward.

“Please,” I beg, my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans.

He chuckles deviously, the bastard continuing his assault on my nipples while his hands cup my ass cheeks and begin kneading.

He lowers himself onto his knees, dragging nipping kisses down my abs until he reaches the waistband of my jeans.

His pink tongue darts out, licking one stripe up the denim-covered bulge.

I gasp, my fingernails digging into the wall behind me. “Please touch me,” I whine. “Touch me, touch me…”

I would literally trip my own grandmother right now and not feel bad about it if he would just put his hands on my fucking cock already.

“So impatient,” he says, clear amusement in his tone. “Are you always this needy?”

I’m saved from having to think of a response when his hands land on the zipper of my jeans. My pants and boxer briefs are tugged down in one swift motion, my hard cock jutting into the air. Precum oozes from the flared head, and his hungry eyes drink it in.

“It’s so pretty, sweetheart.”

My cock jerks as he runs a teasing finger up and down my throbbing length.

A low, quiet cry spills from my throat. Nobody has ever called my cock pretty .

I’m not sure I believe him, but it still has heat licking up my insides.

When his hand wraps around my shaft and begins pumping, I nearly lose it.

I’m used to soft hands and tentative grips, so when his big, firm hand gives my cock a tight squeeze, a groan escapes my throat.

A hot pressure builds in my groin and, as I peer down, my lips part at the sight of the masculine hand moving up and down my length.

Then he leans forward, his eyes locked on me as he licks a stripe up my cock.

“Ohhh my God,” I hiss. “Yes, yes, yes…”

My cock disappears inside his hot, wet mouth, his tongue swirling along the sensitive underside while he sucks. I sink into a delirious haze of pleasure, my hips bucking forward as I chase my orgasm.

I wish I could touch him.