“But I’m not with Ml6 anymore,” Sam said. “I will never be able to afford private lessons or uni without stealing—stealing a lot—”
“I will pay for them,” Dominic said. When Sam frowned and opened his mouth, Dominic cut him off. “It’s nothing for me. I’m not exactly poor.”
Sammy’s brows furrowed. “I know your Dominic Bommer cover is supposedly very rich, but—”
“Sam,” Dominic said with a wry smile. “Dominic Bommer is me. My preferences and personal life might be false, but my financial situation isn’t. I’m really a department head in one of the biggest financial companies in the country. Not to mention that being a senior field agent pays very well, considering the hazards of the job. I’m not a billionaire, but I’m well off. To put it lightly.”
Sammy shook his head, blinking. “It still doesn’t—I don’t…” He gave Dominic a searching look. “You still didn’t answer why you want me here—why you want to pay for my education and…” Sammy looked lost, his green eyes endearingly confused. “I don’t understand.”
Christ, Dominic wanted to hug him.
So he did.
Sammy was stiff in his arms for exactly one second before hugging back. Fuck, he fit perfectly in Dominic’s arms, so perfectly it was hard to let go.
“I want you to stay because I care about you,” Dominic said against Sammy’s temple. “I want you in my house, safe, warm, and comfortable. Because you deserve it. And if you call yourself stupid again, I’ll…” He struggled to come up with a suitable threat. For someone who knew dozens of different torture techniques, it was surprisingly hard to threaten Sammy with anything. “I’ll change the Wi-Fi password and won’t tell you what it is.”
Sam started laughing into his shoulder. “Okay, that’s actually pretty scary. Thanks, Nick. I care about you, too.”
Dominic caught himself smiling—a warm, soft thing that betrayed far more about how he felt than he was comfortable showing. The smile felt alien on his lips and he was glad Sammy couldn’t see it.
Dominic cleared his throat.
“So you’re staying,” he said, pulling back and studying the boy. Although he phrased it as a statement, it was undoubtedly a question.
Sammy nodded. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.” He smirked a little, amusement appearing in his eyes. “What can I say? I got used to the pampered life of your sugar baby.”
Dominic snorted. “Good night.” He headed for his bedroom, trying not to think about the vicious satisfaction he’d felt when Sammy had called himself his sugar baby.
Jesus. He had a problem.
Chapter 22
The next morning, as Sam watched Dominic make an omelet before he had to leave for work—for his official work, not the MI6 one—Sam realized how truly fucked he was.
Either he had been wrong yesterday that nothing changed in regards to his feelings for Dominic, or he had been too well-shagged and satisfied to be embarrassing around Dominic—more than he normally was.
While Dominic’s attention was on the stove, Sam’s eyes swept helplessly over his wide shoulders and the muscles of his back under that shirt. He imagined running his mouth over the veins in Dominic’s forearms bared by his rolled-up sleeves. He licked his lips, trying and failing to suppress the hunger gnawing at him, hunger that had nothing to do with his empty stomach. He couldn’t sit still, the urge to touch nearly irresistible.
And the maddening part was, Dominic would probably kiss him and let him suck his cock if Sam asked. He might even finger him again if Sam asked—or fuck him if Sam asked. The knowledge ate at him, tempting him and horrifying him at the same time.
Although Dominic had told him that he would prefer Sam to hook up with him rather than some random bloke, Sam was uncomfortable initiating sex again, especially after watching Dominic being forced to romance Luke Whitford. Sam couldn’t get out of his mind Dominic’s blank eyes as he kissed Luke. What if Dominic had felt like that while he kissed Sam, too? What if he had been just putting up with it?
The thought made him sick.
“Can I ask you something?” Sam said.
Dominic turned, his expression curious. “Sure.”
“When you kissed Luke yesterday, was it—did it feel like when you kissed me?”
Dominic turned off the stove, removed his apron, and looked at Sam carefully. “No.” Was it Sam’s imagination or did Dominic really look uncomfortable?
No, it wasn’t his imagination.
Sam’s stomach dropped. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Of course it was different. He’s my mission. You’re my—”
When Dominic cut himself off, Sam looked at him with a crooked smile. “Your what? A gay kid you feel sorry for?”
Dominic gave him a pinched look. “Are we back to that? I told you that it wasn’t pity.”
“Then what was it?” Sam said. “You looked bored when you kissed Luke! And he’s, like, five times more attractive than me.”
“He isn’t,” Dominic said, frowning. “And I wasn’t bored when I kissed him. I was focused.”