Page 33 of His Secret Betrayal (Cedarwood Valley Duology #2)

Luke

Eve: When is this little temper tantrum going to be over?

Eve: Are you coming home anytime soon?

Eve: I need some money.

S ilencing 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’t help 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 word punish sends 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 arms flail. “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.

Yeah, if seeing me at his dad’s kitchen table is shocking, then I don’t think he’s ready to see me on his lap yet.

Baby steps.

Alek peers over his shoulder, nodding at Caleb, whose jaw is currently on the floor. Seriously, he’s going to catch a fly in that thing soon. “Hey, kiddo! What brings you by? You want a pancake?”

Caleb stutters. “I—um…”

Alek’s smile looks forced and maybe a little nervous as Caleb’s eyes dart from Alek, back to me. A little wrinkle appears in his forehead, and that’s when I realize—

Oh, shit.

Alek isn’t wearing a shirt.

Alek who normally goes to great lengths to hide his body—that fucking magnificent body.

It should be a crime to cover up something so damn gorgeous.

Those scars don’t make him ugly. If anything, they show how damn resilient he is.

If it were up to me, it would be illegal for Alek Cromwell to wear clothes, but Caleb is now giving me a slightly suspicious expression that’s making me sweat.

I feel like a kid that just got caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

To be clear, Alek is the cookie jar.

Is it too late to jump out the window?

“Luke, what are you doing here?” Caleb asks, taking a seat next to me.

I rub the back of my neck. “Um, yeah, I know it’s weird…”

A plate of steaming pancakes appears under my nose, thumping onto the kitchen table a little harder than necessary.

Seconds later, a plate appears in front of Caleb, then a third plate at Alek’s seat across from me, and a bottle of syrup.

“He needed a place to stay for a few days,” Alek says, sounding mostly nonchalant, but there’s an undercurrent of tension.

Caleb scrunches his eyebrows, looking at me. “At my dad’s house?”

“Yup.” I drown my fluffy pancakes in syrup, quickly stuffing a large bite into my mouth. When my cheeks bulge, Alek rolls his eyes.

“Um…why?”

Because I like to ride your dad’s cock.

One glance towards Alek’s face tells me he hasn’t thought of a feasible lie yet.

Swallowing my mouthful of pancakes, I figure the best way to salvage this situation and throw Caleb off our scent is to give him a partial truth.

And honestly, it’s a long time coming. He’s my best friend, and one of the few I have left if I’m being honest. After a while, when you continuously fuck off, disappear, and ignore people with nothing more than lame ass excuses, they tend to feel unwanted.

I’m tired of keeping secrets from everybody I care about.

I swallow, suddenly not feeling hungry. “I got into an argument with Evelyn. My, uh, sorta roommate. ”

Caleb shoots a perplexed expression towards his dad, who says nothing, before swinging his gaze back to me. “Who’s Evelyn? I thought your roommate was a grumpy, old dude.”

I sigh. “Um, about that. I actually live with my mo—she’s my…” Fuck, a lump forms in my throat when the words won’t come. Why is that word so hard to say? It’s just three insignificant letters.

When Alek clears his throat, I swing my gaze in his direction.

His expression is soft and understanding, and if Caleb weren’t here, I would be seriously tempted to crawl into his lap.

There’s a silent question in his eyes, and the fact that I understand what he’s seeking permission for is a testament to how well we’re getting to know each other.

I slump with relief and give him a subtle nod.

“Evelyn is his birth mother,” Alek says quietly.

There’s a long pause of silence, Caleb studying me thoughtfully while I resist the urge to squirm. Something like hurt flashes across his face, there one second and quickly gone. He shakes his head. “I thought she was dead. None of this is making sense to me.”

Taking a deep breath, I tell him everything.

A mix of emotions flash across his face as I tell the story, but mostly he looks shocked and speechless.

When I tell him how Stoney hit me, how Evelyn took his side, he clenches his jaw.

I even tell him how I lost my shit at work, how Alek found me in a supply closet, and offered to let me stay at his house.

I do, however, leave off the part where he dicked me so good I slept like a baby afterwards.

I also don’t mention that his dad’s foot is currently rubbing up and down my calf under the table, soothing me even now.

Caleb exhales heavily. “Fuck, dude. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. If I had known…” He shakes his head, looking lost in thought.

For a moment, I regret not telling him sooner. I can trust Caleb. I know I can, so why did I carry it all by myself? Because she made me? What right does she have to demand that of me? “Look, I’m sorry. I should have told you, and I really wish I had.”

“No, it’s okay, man. That was your story to tell, and it was none of my business until you were ready for me to know. I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured to tell me just now, it’s just…” He chuckles. “…kind of weird to see you both having breakfast together.”

For a moment, his eyes land on the scars that cross along the top of Alek’s shoulders and narrow. I tense as he gazes back and forth between us with a contemplative expression, and Alek purses his lips.

Just as he opens his mouth to ask another question, presumably, Alek coughs. “So, what’s up with the suitcases?”

That seems to do the trick well enough, the question distracting Caleb as he glances at the pile of suitcases still sitting near the entryway.

“The old woman who lives on the floor above me flooded her bathroom, and it leaked into my apartment. Thought I could stay with you while the repairs are being made.”

Alek’s eyes lock with mine, but Caleb thankfully doesn’t seem to notice how tense the room is now.