Page 13 of The Love Obsession (Bloody Desires #11)

Keaton let me lead him back to the restaurant with all the enthusiasm of someone approaching the electric chair.

I would’ve expected him to pretend to know what he was doing in the bistro.

But no, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Someone else might’ve thought he was a simple man.

Not very bright. But he was just incredibly earnest.

Shit. I couldn’t be falling for this horseshit.

But was it an act? He was either a really good actor or perhaps he’d gotten himself into a bad situation.

I bit my lip as we went back through the door of the bistro to our abandoned seats.

Our very confused waiter was standing there with a bottle of merlot.

“Would you care to approve the bottle?” he asked.He flipped his hair out of his eyes with a cute jerk of his head that probably got him a lot of tips.

“I don’t drink wine,” Keaton murmured.

I glanced at him as I pulled out his chair. He flushed redder than a stop sign and plopped down. I muscled the seat closer to the table.

“My partner doesn’t drink wine.” I smiled at the waiter. “Do you have beer?”

“We have a selection of craft?—”

“Just bring beer. I don’t care,” Keaton said.

The waiter frowned as he left.

Keaton’s face was still red, as if he was upset he’d caused a problem.

It was stupid, but that pissed me off on his behalf.

I didn’t like that I’d put Keaton in an uncomfortable position.

I could feel myself losing sight of my objective, but perhaps for one night that was all right.

I had to get closer to him to get him to talk, so perhaps just relaxing and being on a date was the best thing I could do.

Keaton blinked at me. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Wouldn’t a Daddy get his boy what he enjoys?” I raised an eyebrow in his direction.

He covered his mouth with his hand and sat back in his chair. “Oh.”

The waiter iced us out with stony silence when he delivered the beers, and another server put our food on the table seconds later, but I didn’t give a shit what he thought about our beverages of choice.

I was paying out the ass to eat here, and if my date wanted overpriced beer instead of an overpriced bottle of wine, that was exactly what he was going to get.

The food was good, which was probably why the place was packed, and I’d cleared half my plate before I realized my stomach wasn’t growling anymore. I’d been so caught up in Keaton and his mercurial mood that I hadn’t been paying attention to myself. That was new.

And I kind of liked it. He was entertaining, if nothing else.

I waited until Keaton took a bite of food, then asked, “Who was that man? Or can we not talk about him, either?”

Keaton covered his mouth and coughed while giving me an infuriated glare. “No one.”

“Old lover?” I twirled my fork. “Did you have regrets kicking him to the curb? Good in the sack?”

He dropped his chin and stared at me, and I wanted to howl with laughter, but I held out.

“His accent was nice. Bet he was a good boyfriend.”

Keaton flinched, and I was starting to become convinced he was in the closet. “Keep your voice down! No!”

Concerned, I leaned forward and shoved my plate back so I could rest my elbows on the table. The waiter gave me side-eye from all the way across the room.

Keaton grunted. “Tav Greer was a neighbor. He moved away. He’s gay, like us. His man’s rich.” He rolled his eyes.

“So, you were searching for a sugar daddy. The guy with the hot accent had to go get his own.”

Keaton glanced in the direction of the door, and I reached across the table to put my hand on his.

“If I go again, I’m not coming back,” he growled. And I believed him.

“Sorry.” I caught the waiter’s eye and dragged my wallet out in the universal sign of please let me get the hell out of this restaurant .

The kid had barely reached the table when I slapped my card in his hand.

All at once, I wanted out of here. I wanted to get Keaton behind closed doors, where I could use other, much nicer, techniques to interrogate him.

“I could—” Keaton shifted around as if he might offer me some cash.

“No. Got it.”

He bowed his head and licked his lips. “What can I get?”

“My dick in your ass, dirty boy.” I didn’t bother keeping my voice down.

He moaned, and I think I fried something in his brain because he forgot to be irritated with me about saying something tawdry in public.

The check came quick, and I signed and left a huge tip, so the waiter wasn’t giving us pissy looks when we left. He even gave me a weird half bow. I probably shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t want to be memorable anywhere I took Keaton, but oh well.

We went out into the growing gloom and an ambulance with all the lights whirling and sirens blaring screamed past us.

“Yikes,” I said, watching the vehicle.

He nodded and shuffled a step closer. The man radiated warmth, and I wanted to burrow against his side, but I restrained myself.

“The hotel?”

“Yeah.” His voice was a growl that melted through me, leaving heat in its path. Fuck, he was sexy.

I wanted to hold his hand, but I didn’t want to push my luck, so I tucked mine in my pockets as we walked along the sidewalk to our hotel.

The gray stone exterior shimmered in the glow from the streetlights, but he didn’t gawk as we went inside.

The swanky lobby packed with gray leather furniture and a burbling fountain in the center didn’t snag his attention, either.

No, he was too busy looking at me, and my heart soared.

Fuck my life. He was sexy.

We reached the mirrored elevator and stepped aside as a twentysomething man twirling a gold ring between his fingers walked out.

He brushed his long dark hair off his shoulders and gave Keaton a soft smile.

The poor guy blushed so bright I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as we got on the elevator.

The doors closed, and I got the delightful view, from every possible angle, of Keaton doing his best to hunch his shoulders and hide.

After we reached our floor, I opened the door to my hotel room and gestured for Keaton to go inside.

He nodded at me in an oddly gentlemanly way that had me grinning as I closed the door behind him.

He stopped and perused the room with his hands clenched at his sides.

It wasn’t dramatic. There were rooms I could’ve gotten that would’ve had his jaw on the floor.

This one simply had a king-size bed done up in the silkiest white comforter I’d ever come into contact with, a couch, comfortable armchairs, and a small kitchenette with a half stove. Not that crazy at all.

“Now what?” He cradled the back of his neck with both hands and spun toward me.

I grinned and slapped his ass, then rushed past him and hopped onto the bed, where I bounced. “Get naked. We’ll see if you can stand everything Daddy wants to do to you, boy.”

The shy smile he gave me made my chest feel light, and I couldn’t help but grin back.

“Yes, Daddy,” he whispered.

Fuck me, that was fucking hot. I gave my dick a squeeze through my pants. When did I get so hard? He was peeling his T-shirt up when his pocket vibrated. He scowled and pulled his phone out to stare at the screen.

“What?” I asked.

He hesitated, then tapped the screen. “Yes?” He stood there staring at the floor and the color drained out of his face.

I’d heard the expression—someone going pale—but I’d never watched it happen in real life.

It was one of the most unsettling things I’d ever witnessed.

I hopped to my feet and walked toward him, and he let me rest my hands on his shoulders.

I couldn’t quite catch whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying, but it sounded like a sobbing woman.

He ended the call without speaking, and I led him over to the bed. He collapsed onto his ass, leg sprawled.

“What happened?”

“M-my mom was in an accident. She’s a drinker.” He swallowed and glanced into my eyes, and my heart broke for him as tears trembled on his eyelashes. His big brown eyes glittered with pain. Stupid as it was, I felt terrible for him.

“Which hospital? Come on. I’ll drive you.”

He shook his head and grabbed my hands as if he couldn’t let go, the complete opposite of earlier.

The world wobbled under my feet and I went down on my knees in front of him. “Dead?”

Tears leaked down his cheeks. I’d seen this big man beat up and bleeding, and there hadn’t been any hint he was in pain.

To my horror, my eyes welled up. I cleared my throat, then did the only thing I could possibly do. I put my arms around him. He gulped air, then sobbed and leaned his head on top of mine. “It’ll be okay.”

He shook his head.

He was right, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything bad right now. “Yes, it’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you’re okay. You’ll get through this.”

“My little sister.” He clutched me so hard it was difficult to breathe for a few seconds.

My heart became a husk while I struggled to stay coherent. “Is she safe? Oh God, she wasn’t?—”

“She’s with a neighbor lady. Remember?”

A pure, awful sound tore out of his throat and stood every hair on my body on end, and I held him. How could I do anything else? I might be a killer, but I wasn’t fucking evil.