“About time,” Tristan said, his eyes still on his tablet. “And you couldn’t have called to tell me that?”
Zach opened his mouth and closed it.
“Go away,” Tristan said. “I hate it when people stare at me.”
Zach studied him. Tristan seemed…angry. “Lydia thinks you’re seeing someone.”
Tristan snorted without looking up from his tablet.
Zach walked over and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
“Why?”
Because when I’m in the room, you should always look at me. Zach had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying that. What the hell?
“Look at me,” Zach said again.
Tristan lifted his blue-green eyes, and a rush of want hit Zach so hard and fast his breath caught in his throat. If he believed in such things, he would have thought the boy was an incubus, because there was nothing rational about this heady want and this desire to kiss that scowling pretty mouth and have. He didn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it or rationalize it. This was ridiculous. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t this man. He wouldn’t be this man.
“Stop telling me what to do,” Tristan said sullenly. “And I thought we were done for today?”
“We are.”
Tristan arched an eyebrow, all haughty arrogance. “Leave, then. Don’t you see I’m busy? I don’t have time for you.”
No one could get under his skin like Tristan.
Putting a hand on the back of the couch, Zach leaned down so they were face to face. “What’s gotten into you, brat?” he said, his voice softer than he had intended.
Tristan swallowed before glaring. “Nothing. I just don’t like that you assume that you’re the one calling the shots. I’m not in the mood for you. If you think you can come here whenever you want and stick your dick in me, think again.” His full lips pursed, the bottom one poking out.
“I’m not here for sex,” Zach said, dragging his eyes away from that mouth. “I told you yesterday that was the last time.”
Humor flashed across Tristan’s face and vanished. “Just like you told me the day before yesterday? And the day before that?”
Zach’s jaw clenched. “This time I mean it. I haven’t touched you today, have I?”
Tristan gave him a vicious glare.
Zach went still as something occurred to him. “You wanted me to touch you.” That wasn’t a question.
Putting his hands on Zach’s chest, Tristan tried to shove him away. “I told you to get out.”
Zach didn’t budge. His hand found itself on Tristan’s cheek. “You wanted me to kiss you?” His voice dropped to a rough rasp as he leaned in. Maybe one more kiss. Just one. A very short one. And then they were done.
“No,” Tristan said, his hands moving up Zach’s chest.
“You’re usually a better liar than this,” Zach murmured before molding their mouths together. They both moaned, hands burying in each other’s hair as they kissed deeply. Had it been just a day? Too damn long.
“Tristan, I finished the—”
They sprang apart, breathing hard.
Lydia stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and dozens of letters at her feet.
“Oh,” she said weakly.
“If you tell someone,” Tristan said tightly. “I’ll make sure you’ll never find another job.”
Lydia paled.
Sighing, Zach pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lydia, please wait for me downstairs.” She practically ran out of the room and Zach turned to Tristan. “Blackmail isn’t how normal people deal with every situation.”
Tristan sprang to his feet. “But I have to talk to her and make sure she—”
Zach grabbed him and turned him around. “You aren’t going anywhere. You will not threaten her.”
Tristan just stared at him wide-eyed, shaking his head over and over. He was hyperventilating.
“Calm down,” Zach said firmly but not without kindness, squeezing Tristan’s shoulders. “Nothing will happen. She won’t tell anyone. I’ll deal with it. I promise.”
Tristan’s breathing evened out a little, and the tremors stopped, but those eyes…Goddammit.
Zach leaned in and brushed his lips against Tristan’s.
They both went still.
Tristan exhaled shakily.
Zach pulled back and walked out of the room. He ran his hand through his hair as he took the stairs down. He was going mad. Crazy. Bloody insane.
Lydia stood in the middle of the living room, her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was grim, her brown eyes full of judgment.
Zach sighed, tired of the conversation before it even started. “It isn’t what it looks like.”
“Wow, really? I know what I saw.” She shook her head, looking incredulous. “I can’t—can’t believe you. I thought you could see what a horrible little monster he is.”
Tristan’s panic-stricken, vulnerable expression flashed through his mind. Zach pushed it away, irrationally wishing he had never seen it. He had seen Tristan vulnerable before, of course—Tristan always looked soft and vulnerable (and beautiful) after Zach spanked him (which was why Zach tried not to do it too often, no matter how much they both enjoyed it)—but this was different. He could excuse the rush of protectiveness after he spanked Tristan as a side effect; this he couldn’t excuse as easily.