Luke stiffened for a moment before relaxing and leaning back against Roman’s chest. “You’re early,” he said, taking his headphones off. He tried to turn around, but Roman didn’t let him, his hands gripping Luke’s hips and holding him in place while he sucked bruises into his flawless skin, inhaling his sweet scent greedily and feeling his headache recede.
“How—how did it go?” Luke said. “The meeting, I mean?”
“As well as expected,” Roman replied, trailing his lips up Luke’s neck, to his cheek. “Canberra is satisfied with the new partner I introduced him to.”
Luke leaned into the touch, his full lips parting. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open. “Did you make it clear he knows Whitford Industries won’t be making deals with the likes of him any longer?”
“Yes,” Roman said curtly before tugging the collar of Luke’s t-shirt aside and sucking a mark into the creamy skin of his shoulder.
Luke squirmed. “Stop that,” he said hoarsely with a smile. “I have to finish making dinner and I can’t do it when you’re all over me. Go sit over there.” He pushed Roman toward the chair.
Roman did sit down, albeit reluctantly. Leaning back in his chair, he glanced at the steamer and raised an incredulous brow. “Are you cooking manti?”
A pink flush colored Luke’s cheeks. He shrugged nonchalantly, returning to stirring the sauce. “I guess I developed a bit of a taste for it while I was in Russia. It’s not a hard dish to make. I got bored today and decided to try my hand at it.” He shrugged again.
He was a terrible liar.
Roman’s lips twitched.
Luke shot him a sideway look. “Shut up,” he said, his right dimple making an appearance as an embarrassed smile curled his lips. He must have been aware how pathetically lovesick his behavior was.
Roman didn’t comment on it. Just as he never commented on how Luke looked at him, curled into him, and gave him his lips to kiss at every opportunity.
A better man would have nipped this in the bud and told Luke to turn his affections elsewhere, to someone who was worthy of them. But even the thought of some other man touching Luke’s skin, kissing his plump, sweet lips, and fucking that nice little body made Roman’s hands clench into fists.
He wasn’t a better man. Because no matter how pathetically obvious the boy’s feelings were, Roman found himself wanting moremoremore, ruthlessly greedy, taking every bit of Luke’s affections and unwilling to give it up.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Luke said, setting a delicious smelling plate of food in front of Roman and turning away to fill his own plate.
Roman reached out, took his wrist and pulled him into his lap.
Luke giggled. “No, let’s eat first,” he said. Contrary to his words, his arms looped around Roman’s neck. “You know we won’t get any eating done if we start. I’m hungry. You must be hungry too.”
He was. He always was.
“Canberra was the last,” Roman said.
It took Luke a few moments to understand what it meant. “Oh,” he said, his face falling.
Fucking hell. Did the boy not understand how dangerous it was to wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve?
“Yes,” Roman said. “Everything has been taken care off. There will be no more threats.”
Luke curled his hands in his own lap. “So…Are you, like, leaving?” he said, his expression open and vulnerable.
Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell was this human being doing in Roman’s lap, looking at him that way?
I never thought I’d see a day you’d let some baby-faced English kid plait ropes out of you.
Anna’s words that Luke had him wrapped around his little finger had put him on edge—because she wasn’t wrong. Denying it was pointless. It was hard to deny it when Luke was the sole reason Roman was relocating his headquarters to a different country. He understood why Anna was so surprised: a part of him still couldn’t believe he was doing it, either. And that was only one of the many compromises he would have to make.
Looking at the boy’s earnest, anxious face, Roman couldn’t bring himself to care.
He lifted a hand and tucked a stray curl behind Luke’s ear. “How are your therapy sessions going? Any luck getting cured of me?”
Leaning into his hand like a touch-starved kitten, Luke glared at him. “Stop making fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you,” Roman said, holding his gaze. “This is a serious question.”
Luke dropped his eyes for a moment before looking back at him with a humorless smile. “I think the answer is pretty obvious, yeah?” He wet his lips with his tongue. “Looks like I have a chronic, incurable form.”
Trying to ignore the disgustingly warm feeling in the region of his heart, Roman cleared his throat and said, “You’re an idiot.”
Luke nodded, the corners of his lips turning down. His eyes suspiciously shiny, he blinked a few times before burying his face in Roman’s chest. “I feel so stupid,” he whispered. “I never meant for this to happen. Not with you. Even before you, I always got hung up on guys who were all wrong for me. You’re, like, the worst of them all, but I never had it this bad.” His voice cracked. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”