Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,25
a little, is extremely appealing.
I can hardly take my eyes off my boy long enough to enjoy my own food. He’s sitting cross legged on the bed, delight dancing over his face with each bite he takes of his dinner, like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Maybe it is, but I plan to see to it that he gets used to this kind of spoiling. For most of my life, I was indifferent about having so much money. I wasn’t proud of it like some people are; I saw it as a tool to shape the world little by little into a better place. And right about now, I’m seeing it as an excellent way to give my sweet boy all the things he’s always deserved and then some.
“This is amazing,” he hums, popping a fry into his mouth and making the most adorable happy noises I’ve ever heard while he chews. “Do you not like yours?” he asks when he realizes I’ve hardly touched my food.
I cut a piece of salmon and lift it to my mouth. “It’s fantastic,” I assure him once I’m finished chewing. “I was just distracted.”
The tips of his ears turn pink, and he dips his head, but not so quick that I miss the smile on his lips. “I’m eating; that ain’t distracting,” he mumbles.
“I assure you, it’s entirely distracting.”
He takes a bite of his truffle burger, chewing slowly before looking up at me again. “You always such a charmer?”
There’s a vulnerability in his eyes when he asks the question. “Yes,” I answer honestly, smirking at him. When his face starts to fall, I hurry to continue before he gets the wrong idea. “But you’re special, Sterling.”
I expect his smile to return, maybe some more of that adorable blushing. Instead, his face hardens, and he pushes his plate away, still half of his food left uneaten. I frown as I watch him swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand up. He smooths his pants down with his hands and then straightens his shoulders.
“I’m gettin’ pretty tired. I think I’ll just take a shower instead of a bath.” He starts toward the bathroom, and I grumble, pushing my own plate away and sitting up.
“Sterling, stop,” I say in a commanding tone, and he freezes mid-stride. “Tell me what just happened.”
His shoulders hunch, and he slowly turns around to face me. “Nothin’. I told you I’m gettin’ tired.”
Setting my plate aside, I stand up and walk over to stand directly in front of him, tilting his face up so he’s looking at me. “I think it’s time for your first rule, Pretty Boy.” He frowns but doesn’t argue or protest. “No lying. When I ask you a question, you will be honest with me.”
“What happens if I break the rules?” he asks.
“It depends on the rule and the severity of the infraction. You might lose privileges or be given chores.”
“You said spanking,” he points out, a hint of defiance in his voice.
“I think you’re far too eager for a spanking for it to be any kind of proper punishment,” I answer. Sterling huffs, but again, doesn’t argue. “So, let’s try this again. What just happened?”
He squirms under my attention, trying to shake off my grasp so he can look away. He gives up after a few seconds, his eyes holding a hint of pleading as he finally answers the question. “I’m not special.” It’s barely above a whisper, but the pain in his voice is loud enough to shatter my heart.
“Oh, little rabbit,” I murmur. “You couldn’t be more wrong about that.” I pull him into my arms, and he doesn’t resist. He presses his face into my chest and shakes his head at the same time.
I want to set him straight. I want to pin him down on the bed and force him to hear all the nicest things I can think to say about him. But this isn’t something I can fix in a single night. He has an entire lifetime of programming that I’m going to have to undo little by little. I hold him tight for a minute, my nose pressed against the top of his head, my heart beating a slow, steady rhythm that feels like it’s only for this beautiful, broken boy in my arms. No, not broken, he’s a little bent, but nothing I can’t fix.
“Are you still hungry?” I ask, and he shakes his head again. “Do you want to take your