Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys #10)(33)

Ian had never been so aware of another person when they weren’t even in the same room.

He was tying his tie when Miles returned to the bedroom. He marched determinedly toward Ian.

“Look, there’s no need for this to be so awkward,” Miles said, stopping in front of him. He was smiling crookedly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be pushy. If you don’t want to do this again, it’s absolutely fine. Really. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

Looking at that forced but brave little smile, Ian gritted his teeth.

Turn away, Caldwell. The door is three steps away.

Three fucking steps away, but it might as well be on the other side of the planet.

“Damn you.” Ian yanked the boy close and slammed their mouths together. It was terrifying and exhilarating how quickly Miles responded, all but climbing him and kissing back, his mouth pliant and needy.

Ian tore himself from that eager mouth with far more effort than he would have liked.

“I have to go.” He barely recognized his own voice, so low and hoarse it was.

Miles nodded dazedly, still looking at him with such longing and need that Ian just had to kiss him again. And again, and again, and again.

By the time he wrenched himself away, he was so hard it actually hurt to walk.

But walk he did.

He stopped by the door, put a hand on the handle.

He looked back.

Miles stood where Ian had left him, lips slightly swollen and red, cheeks flushed, and his eyes glassy with desire.

Ian wanted to swallow him whole.

He was already taking a step back toward Miles when the ringing of his phone brought him back to his senses.

Ian strode away, swearing through his teeth.





Chapter 12


Miles had never felt like this.

He had no idea anymore what was going on between him and Ian, but he felt… he felt giddy, smiling into space, dropping things, and just being generally stupid. Rationally, he knew he had nothing to feel giddy about. Whatever this thing was, it was too fragile and uncertain. Downright crazy. Ian had made it clear that he thought it had been a mistake, and rationally, Miles knew there were countless reasons why this was a terrible idea.

But he still couldn’t banish the warm, giddy feeling whenever he thought of Ian’s arms around him, his blue eyes, his mouth, his scent. Fuck, his scent. Miles had never really noticed how people smelled, but Ian’s earthy, masculine scent made him want to bury his nose against Ian’s throat, his armpit, his crotch, and just breathe.

Part of him couldn’t believe his own thoughts. He’d always made fun of his siblings and in-laws for the besotted way they behaved around their significant others, and now he was acting far worse than them, over a man who wasn’t his and never would be his. Over a man who was from a different world.

Ian was a successful businessman, a billionaire, a CEO of multiple corporations, a real grown-up eleven years his senior. Ian was a straight man, the heir to an old, powerful family, and one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. He no doubt had hundreds of women lining up to be the next Mrs. Caldwell.

Miles was just some confused British student who wasn’t even sure what his sexuality was. At this point, he hoped he was gay or bi, and not demisexual, because that would mean he was already in too deep if even thinking about Ian aroused him now. It wasn’t encouraging that there was an element of complete trust and security that attracted him to Ian.

Fuck, he needed to get a grip. This was hopeless. Pointless. This wasn’t some kind of gay Cinderella story. This wasn’t going anywhere. Ian Caldwell was his boss. He had hired Miles to care for his little son, not to pine for him during his working hours.

Caring for said son wasn’t actually easy that morning. Liam was unusually bad-tempered, throwing temper tantrums for no reason and not listening to a word Miles said. He still talked, but he was far less talkative than the previous day, mostly using monosyllabic answers whenever Miles attempted to engage the boy in conversation.

Thankfully, Liam was in a much better mood after his afternoon nap. The little monster from the morning was gone, replaced by the quiet, affectionate boy Miles had come to adore. He would never understand kids, Miles concluded, shaking his head in bemusement but immensely relieved.

Encouraged by Liam’s good mood, he finally decided to broach the subject Ian had talked to him about last evening before… before they got distracted.

Miles cleared his throat and focused his gaze on Liam.

“Your dad loves you very much,” he started in his calmest voice. “You love your dad too, right?”

The little boy’s lips pursed, his blue eyes still on the LEGO pieces in his hands. He said nothing and continued constructing a house, but Miles got the impression that he was listening.

“Your dad is a good man.”

“Bad,” Liam mumbled, shaking his small head.

Miles frowned. “You’re wrong, Liam. Your dad isn’t bad.”

“Bad,” Liam said stubbornly.

“Why do you think he’s bad? It’s not true, kiddo. He loves you very much.”

Liam’s brows furrowed. He shook his head again, his blue eyes filling with tears. “Da bad! Hurt mama. Mama cry!”

Miles’s stomach dropped. So Ian was right after all: the boy’s memories were all mixed up and he had really mistaken his father for someone who’d hurt his mother.