Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,56
giggles, and that’s a sound I never expected to hear out of the sad boy I met in the middle of nowhere. The happy noise fills me up inside, compelling me to kiss him again, to memorize the shape and flavor of his lips at this exact moment because I’m pretty sure it’s the moment I’m falling in love with him.
“Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t you go wash up,” I suggest, setting him back on his feet and kissing his nose.
“Whatcha makin’? It smells like heaven.”
“Gumbo.” I know I have to actually let go of him if I expect him to go wash up, but I can’t seem to keep my hands off of him, squeezing his ass cheeks through his jeans, delighting in the hiss that rattles through his teeth and the way he thrusts against me, the tips of his ears going pink and his eyelids fluttering.
“Daddy,” he rasps again, making my cock swell.
“Wash up,” I repeat, managing to take my hands off of him with great effort.
He hurries off, and I adjust my erection before returning to the stove to dish up our dinner. When Sterling returns a few minutes later, he’s changed out of the clothes he wore to work and is now in one of my t-shirts, his legs bare, the shirt coming down just below the curve of his ass. My cock stirs again, a possessive heat flaring in my chest.
“Fuck, you look good in my clothes,” I growl, snagging the front of his shirt and tugging him forward for another kiss. “I am never going to get enough of you,” I murmur against his lips.
“Promise?” he whispers back, his voice small and delicate, like he might break at any second.
“Oh, little rabbit, you have no idea,” I sigh.
After a few more minutes of kissing, I release him and hand him the bowl I dished up. Grabbing my own, I lead him over to the table, snagging him around the waist when he tries to pull out a chair, and carrying him in one arm to my own chair to set him on my lap where he belongs.
Sterling squirms against my leg, wincing a little.
“How are you feeling? Sore?” I ask. I didn’t go too hard, but maybe I should’ve put a soothing lotion on his ass before I let him leave this morning.
“A little, but I like it.” He takes the first bite of gumbo and moans.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, one arm around his waist to keep him steady on my thigh, the other shoveling delicious gumbo into my mouth.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I say after a few minutes, and Sterling tenses in my arms. “Relax, Pretty Boy.” I kiss the side of his neck and take another bite of food. “Gannon reminded me earlier that I have a trip planned in two weeks to go to Nice, France. I have a few investments there— a vineyard, a few small local businesses I help fund, things like that. I thought you might like to go with me.”
“To France?” he asks, and I chuckle.
“Yes, to France. What do you say?”
“I ain’t got a passport or nothin’.”
“Leave it to me. You’d be amazed how quickly you can get things done when money is no object.”
Sterling frowns at that. “I don’t need you throwin’ your money around for me.”
“I spent the first half of my life largely resenting my money. I didn’t feel like I deserved it, not compared to how hard some people seemed to struggle for the barest necessities. Then, in my twenties, I realized how much good I could do with it, and I decided that was absolution enough. I couldn’t control the fact that I was born into money, but I could be sure to do good things with it. In my personal life, it still caused me more grief than anything— boys crawling out of the woodwork at the sight of my car or my credit card. But you, little rabbit, are entirely different. You said you wouldn’t have cared if I was poor, and I believe you. Strangely, that makes me want to spoil you that much more.”
He shakes his head, setting his spoon down and leaning back against me. “You’re silly. I don’t need none of that. I just need…” he trails off, the tips of his ears going red.
“What do you need? Tell me and it’s yours,” I promise.