Page 39 of His Secret Betrayal (Cedarwood Valley Duology #2)

Luke

“ S uch a needy little thing,” Alek rumbles into my ear, his warm breath fanning over my goose-bumped skin.

I whine my agreement even as I chase his lips.

He lets me kiss him, my hands roaming down his torso—currently covered in a white t-shirt, a crime—as I wiggle on his lap where I sit perched atop it on the couch.

“I like kissing you,” I mumble against his mouth, both of our lips kiss-swollen.

“Greedy,” Alek hisses, my fingers sliding under his shirt to caress a nipple. There’s no real admonishment behind the word though. His eyes are alight with smug pleasure as he peers down at me.

Despite having just come—my limbs languid and our bodies clothed again—my cock jerks in an attempt to rally itself once more.

I can’t stop touching him, and I don’t want to.

It’s not even about sex, it’s just this irrefutable need to touch and be touched in return.

With every passing day I spend with my big guy, the intimacy is becoming something that goes beyond sex.

“You need my attention, baby?” Alek croons into my ear, and my entire body shudders.

“Yes,” I admit unabashedly, my fingers raking down his biceps, gentling as I reach those sexy-as-fuck forearms. Peering down to admire the ropey, veined limbs, my index finger travels along one such vein. I grin when Alek’s breath stutters, his eyes locking onto my movements.

He likes to be admired and with a body as sexy as his, he deserves to be.

As long as I’m the one doing said admiring.

“You really have it hot for my forearms,” Alek teases.

My lips pull into a coy smirk. “Hmm, you’re not wrong.”

Being with Alek is unlike any partner I’ve ever been with.

When we’re together, he doesn’t just take control.

He demands it, and my brain turns to mush.

He’s dominating in a way that isn’t about control, but an exchange of trust and power that often turns me into a whining, whimpering mess.

Being under his command, all of that attention zeroed in on me like I’m the only thing that matters in his world, is fucking heady.

However, in the past month since I’ve been here, I’ve discovered that, as much as I enjoy his touches, I like to explore, too.

With each passing day, Alek’s guard lowers a little more, often leaving me dizzy with awe.

This man who initially refused to undress in my presence, who controlled where and how much my hands explored his body, now walks around the house half-naked.

He lets my hands roam unimpeded, his body no longer tensing when I brush over a scar.

Actually, he gets this dopey, aroused sort of blinky-eyed expression.

Also, in the time I’ve been here, Alek has let me explore this new part of my sexuality on my own terms. At my own pace. And I’m slowly starting to come to terms with what I suspect to be true.

“Al-Alek?”

When he gives me an inquisitive look, my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. My pulse begins to race, and I force myself to resist the urge to dismiss what I’m feeling. If there’s anybody I can be vulnerable with, it’s Alek.

His eyebrows furrow, those glacial blues crinkling in concern. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I think I’m attracted to men and women.”

Alek sort of just blinks up at me, not looking particularly surprised nor displeased. My racing pulse slows, and I begin to relax. His hands run a soothing path up and down my back. “You think?”

I smile shyly, surprise blooming in my chest when it clicks. Warmth spreads through me and my voice is steady when I speak again. “I know,” I correct myself. “I’m bisexual.”

Alek smiles, his eyes soft in a way I haven’t witnessed before. “Okay, then.”

Okay, then.

Because I never have to be anything other than myself with him, do I?

Thud, thud, thud.

There goes my heart, doing erratic cartwheels.

With every unconditional acceptance and tender word sown, Alek is seeping into the broken cracks of my armor, a balm for all the jagged, chipped pieces of me.

With every praise whispered, he’s slowly helping me figure out how to put myself back together.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

He simply nods, seeming to understand all the things I’m not saying as I gently kiss the space where the soft skin of his neck meets his collarbone.

He moans quietly, his hands squeezing my hips as I begin to suck.

We stay like that for long minutes, the silence between us comfortable as I kiss around his neck.

“Ugh, seriously, guys?”

We jerk apart, our heads snapping toward the front door where Caleb now stands. He glares at us, a hand on each hip. Heat spreads across my cheeks, and I attempt to climb off Alek’s lap, but his hand clamps onto my hips with a bruising grip, pushing me back down as he narrows his eyes at Caleb.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Alek rumbles.

At this, Caleb manages to look a little chagrined.

He rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand in the air as he approaches.

With each step toward us, nerves flutter in my belly.

This is the first time I’ve seen or spoken to him since he ran out of the office a few days ago as though the sight of me on Alek’s lap made his eyes burn.

He plops down on the opposite end of the couch, huffing as he gives us side-eye. “Relax, dude. We’re fine,” he grumbles at me.

Alek makes a pleased little hum, finally releasing me.

I scramble off his lap, sinking onto the couch between them.

The tension in my muscles eases as I glance back and forth, relaxing further into the cushions as Alek speaks to Caleb.

They carry on a completely mundane conversation, as though it’s really no big deal I was just on his dad’s lap.

With every passing minute, my heart swells with gratitude, and I begin to feel more like myself again .

Finally, Alek stretches and pops his neck, murmuring something about needing to check some emails and going to bed early.

I roll my eyes because I know that’s not true.

It’s an obvious attempt to give Caleb and me some time alone, probably to talk our feelings out— gag —but I suppose I should appreciate that.

As he passes, his hand wraps around the back of my neck, thumb brushing over my pulse point, before leaning down to kiss me.

With Caleb here, I’m expecting a quick peck.

But this is Alek we’re talking about, a man who has no shame.

It’s a long, languid kiss, his tongue gently flicking at the seams of my lips before he pulls away with a subtle wink. I blink up at him, dazed.

“I’m going to barf,” Caleb grits out.

“Do you want a kiss too, baby?” I theatrically pucker my lips in his direction, making a show of fluttering my eyelashes as Alek releases a low, throaty laugh.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” Caleb grouses, his eyes narrowing in warning, but I don’t miss the reluctant twitch of his lips.

Alek snorts, shaking his head before heading toward the hallway where his office is.

Something like amusement and mirth dance in my chest, my lips spreading into a shit-eating grin.

Unable to help myself, I make a show of smacking his ass as he passes.

Caleb lets out an indignant squawk just as Alek whirls around, giving me a stern expression full of promised retribution.

A small shudder runs through me, Alek’s lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk as he walks away.

Turning back to Caleb, I can’t stop the smile spreading from ear to ear. God, this is going to be so much fun. Now I can get him back for every time he’s ever given me shit. A thrill runs through me as I rub my hands together and open my mouth to taunt him.

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t,” Caleb growls.

I ignore him. “So, you don’t mind if I call him Daddy, too? ”

Approximately one second later, I’m being thumped in the face with a pillow. I grunt, releasing a booming laugh as I knock it to the floor.

“Oh, fuck off!” Caleb exclaims, but despite his irritation, there’s a spark of reluctant humor in his eyes.

Caleb whacks me with another pillow, which then escalates into an all-out pillow fight.

We laugh, the rambunctious sounds echoing off the walls when we eventually tumble onto the floor with our arms locked around each other as we wrestle.

Even when we knock a lamp over, Alek never comes to investigate.

The mental image of him sitting in his plush office chair with those black-framed glasses pushed up his nose, his lips pulling into an amused grin as our ruckus filters down the hallway, makes me smile even harder.

It takes us a while to calm down, partly because I keep egging Caleb on.

Finally having everything out in the open with my best friend is so freeing.

There’s a light, airy sensation in my chest as an understated, sort of quiet joy ripples through me.

When we finally settle down, righting the pillows and lamp, Caleb turns on the Xbox that somehow never made it back to his own apartment and silently hands me the spare controller.

We play in amicable silence for nearly an hour, occasionally grinning over at one another.

While we’re waiting for the screen to load between rounds, Caleb’s face turns pensive, and he finally speaks again.

“Just don’t hurt him, okay? I can be cool with this as long as you’re good to him. He’s…softer than he lets on. A lot of people have let him down. Don’t be one of those people.”

“Never,” I vow, slightly surprised when my throat constricts. Part of me wants to tell Caleb I would hate myself if I ever hurt his dad. I’ve done and said a lot of things I regret, but I refuse to add hurting Alek to that long list .

Caleb nods, shifting awkwardly next to me as the next game begins.

My thumbs mash down the buttons on the controller, my gaze locked on the screen as I wait for the sudden awkwardness to dissipate.

Caleb refuses to look at me, his jaw tense as the sound of our characters running floats through the speakers.

Finally, I can’t take the tension anymore.

“Maybe one day you can call me Step-Daddy,” I tease, immediately freezing when I realize the implication of my lame joke, the words somehow bypassing the mouth-to-filter function.

With my attention diverted, my on-screen character immediately dies when I accidently let him run off the side of a cliff.

Caleb snorts. “Smartass.”

I chuckle quietly, my heart in my throat as I wait. Until… ah, there it is. Caleb gasps, his hand tightening over the controller as his wide eyes dart to mine.

“Wait, does that mean you love my dad? Like, you want to marry him and shit?”

I open my mouth to refute him, my initial gut reaction telling me how crazy that is. Alek and I haven’t been together long enough to start throwing around words like love and marriage.

Those are big, big words.

Clamping my mouth shut, I give my thoughts a little more consideration.

Because doesn’t Alek deserve that courtesy?

Caleb merely stares at me, not attempting to rush me, despite his slack-jawed expression.

I take the time to examine my feelings, really examine them, leaving no stone unturned.

I think about how utterly safe I feel with Alek.

How, in the past month, his arms have become my home, my peace.

Staying in his home was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, a way to put some distance between me and my monsters, but neither one of us have mentioned that fact .

Now that I know what it feels like to be in Alek’s orbit, I have no desire to leave, and I doubt I ever will.

In the end, the realization isn’t all that frightening. Actually, I think this was inevitable, because this is Alek we’re talking about. Warmth swells in my chest, my lips pulling into a soft, peaceful smile.

Of course, I’m in love.

How could I not love him?