Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys #10)(28)

He felt more than heard Ian approach.

“How was he after I left?” Ian said. “Did he talk more?”

“Yeah, he did,” Miles said, dropping Liam’s favorite toy car to the floor and quickly picking it up. He put it in the box, acutely aware of the man behind him. Fuck, were his hands trembling? “His sentences are obviously not correct, but I could understand him, for the most part.”

A hand on his arm made Miles go still.

“You’re avoiding looking at me,” Ian said.

Moistening his lips with his tongue, Miles turned and met his gaze steadily. “Not at all.”

Ian gave him a look, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’re nervous.”

Miles crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him. “Why would I be?”

Ian smiled, an amused, arrogant smile that had no right to be so bloody attractive. “Because you have a bit of a crush on me, and now you’re being ridiculous over it.”

Miles wanted to wipe that smirk off Ian’s lips with his own mouth.

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad you figured it out and it won’t be awkward if I can’t restrain myself and accidentally kiss you again.”

Ian laughed, his eyes bright with mirth, and—

Ugh, Miles kind of wanted to look into them forever.

Fuck, Ian was wrong that he had a bit of a crush on him. This didn’t feel like a goddamn crush. This felt so much worse.

“Try to restrain yourself,” Ian said, his half-lidded eyes laughing. “You know I’m straight.”

“Yeah, except when you put your prick into my mouth.”

Ian’s amusement disappeared. Cocking his head slightly, he studied Miles with an expression that could only be described as intense. It made Miles’s skin prickle.

He laid his hand on Miles’s neck, his thumb stroking his Adam’s apple.

Miles swallowed, his pulse skyrocketing. He felt caught in Ian’s eyes, unable to look away.

A small hand grabbing his jeans broke the moment. Miles dragged his gaze away from Ian’s and looked down at the small boy frowning up at them, looking confused and a little scared.

Miles quickly put on a smile. “Liam, it’s okay. We talked about it, didn’t we? Your dad and I are friends. He isn’t hurting me.”

Liam’s eyes flickered between his father and Miles.

“Miles is right,” Ian said, removing his hand from Miles’s neck. There was something disturbed in his gaze, but he clearly was trying not to look intimidating. “We’re friends. See?” He took Miles’s fingers into his hand and showed their clasped hands to Liam.

It would have been adorable if the touch wasn’t making Miles’s insides turn to jelly. He stared at Ian’s strong, long fingers intertwined with his slimmer ones and had to smother a stupid grin.

A crush. Right.

Exasperated with himself, Miles tried to smile encouragingly at Liam, but he suspected it didn’t look convincing, because all he wanted at the moment was to snog the boy’s father.

“Right,” he said, taking Liam’s hand with his free one. “Why don’t we all go have dinner?”

Liam looked between them before ducking his head and nodding shyly.

Counting this as a win, Miles chanced a glance at the boy’s father.

Ian had a grim look on his face. “Yes, let’s go,” he said before leaning in and murmuring into Miles’s ear. “I need to talk to you later.”

Miles just squeezed his hand in agreement before allowing Liam to tug him out of the room.

And if his ear was still tingling from Ian’s breath, well, no one had to know about it.

***

“Later” ended up being three hours later, after Liam was tucked into his bed.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Miles said, closing the door to Ian’s office.

Ian nodded without looking up from his laptop. “If Liam talks to you, could you ask him why he’s scared of me hurting you?”

Frowning, Miles walked over and leaned his hip against the desk by Ian’s chair. “I thought you said he was scared of you because you and his mother fought all the time?”

Ian lifted his gaze from the laptop and fixed him with a heavy look. “Yes, we fought a lot—verbally. I never physically hurt her. But today I got the impression that he was afraid of me physically hurting you. I want to know why.”

Miles chewed on his lip. “Do you think he saw someone hurt his mother?”

A deep furrow appeared between Ian’s brows. “Maybe. She had him for months before I got custody. It’s possible that he saw someone who looked like me beat her. The type of company she kept wasn’t exactly reputable.”

Miles hummed thoughtfully. It made sense. It would explain why Liam was so distrustful of his father. “Okay,” he said softly, reaching out to smooth the wrinkle between Ian’s brows with his thumb. “Don’t frown, you’ll get permanent wrinkles.”

Ian lifted his eyebrows, his grim expression replaced by one of amusement. He loosened his tie, watching Miles lazily, like a big, dangerous cat pondering whether it was in the mood for a snack or not.

“You should be less obvious,” Ian said, catching Miles’s fingers and studying them. “My own housekeeper just gave me a talking-to that I shouldn’t ‘cruelly encourage the poor boy’s crush.’ It was very intimidating.”