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“I’ll eat pretty much anything. I grew up with nothing, so everything looks good.” I didn’t know if he was offering the information because he knew he’d had a background check run on him and it came up clean and boring, or if he was actually interested in sharing.
“Well, you can still help. I’m shit at cooking, though, so unless you want to live on takeout —”
“God, no. I’ll cook.” He cut me off before I could finish the sentence and scooped another bite of eggs into his mouth. “The last thing I need is to get fat eating hamburgers.” Clay’s eyes slid to the glass doors and my backyard. “Is that pool the only place you have to exercise?”
My eyes roamed over his body — he wasn’t muscle-bound like I was, but he had a sinewy leanness to him. I hadn’t seen him out of his clothes to know how toned he really was, and just the thought made my mind twist in a direction I was trying to avoid.
“There’s a home gym in the third bedroom. You can use it or the pool whenever you want.”
“Right.” He took another bite of food and stood, pushing the plate in my direction. “I’m done. You can finish that if you want. I’m going to check it out.”
I noticed he’d given me back a little more than what I’d scraped onto his plate — I had no idea why it made me smile.
I didn’t expect my phone to ring again this soon. Usually, after I took a beating, I didn’t have to deal with Marcus or anyone who had access to the line for at least a few days. When I glanced at the screen and saw who it was, my shoulders tensed. The motion made my muscles flex, which sent a stab of pain through my side.
I didn’t need the reminder.
“Hey, Dad.” I said it as casually as I could, though I hated giving him that title. If he was calling, it was for nothing good.
My eyes drifted to the sliding glass doors — to Clay, who was lying out on my deck in nothing but his black briefs and pool water slowly drying on his skin.
He was going to get a sunburn.
“Jayce, you sound well. I suppose your investment was worth the money.”
Fuck, of course he was asking about Clay again. I hadn’t managed to figure out what I was going to do with him. He kept throwing me — he tried to kiss me, and then he tried to feed me. I’d ordered extra groceries just to make sure he didn’t go hungry on my behalf again.
I was still kind of expecting him to run off while I wasn’t looking.
“I don’t make bad investments. You know that.” I answered before I let myself get too lost in thought, though I moved around the kitchen to get a better look at Clay. His eyes were closed, and his face was turned up to the sun — the chlorine had made his already unruly hair curl even more… and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he could sense me watching him. As soon as I leaned against the counter, he skated his hand down his bare chest in a lazy motion that made his nipples pebble and my stomach jerk.
“I raised you to know the difference between a good investment and a waste of time.”
Clay’s fingers stroked the planes of his stomach — I’d wondered earlier, but now I had confirmation. He looked lean, but his muscles were cut, obviously well-maintained through exercise and care. I swallowed, nodding before I remembered I was on the phone.
“I know. I’m grateful for all the lessons you’ve taught me.” Just saying the words felt like acid on my tongue, but I knew his ego and the malicious streak he had were tied together. If I fed one, the other was sated.
“Good boy.” I had to clench my jaw to stop myself from saying something I’d regret — I kept my focus on Clay instead. He was slowly trailing his hands up and down his waist, over his chest. He tickled his fingers across his nipples, but he never opened his eyes, even though I was almost positive he was putting on this little show just for me.
“Thank you, sir.” I got the words out when Clay ran his fingers through his hair.
“I’d like to meet your little investment.”
That brought me out of the lull Clay’s body in the sun had slowly started pulling me into. I jerked my eyes to the floor and frowned.
“He’s still settling in. I don’t think —”
“If this is the life he’s going to live, it’s better for you to throw him in headfirst. If he’s this tantalizing, I’m sure you can make a pretty penny with him.”
The words grated over my nerve endings, and I didn’t realize my nails were cutting into my palm until I noticed the splotch of blood on the countertop.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
There was a moment of silence — I knew better. I knew better than to defy him, but there wasn’t another choice.
I could either do this, or I could bring Clay there. If I did, he’d see straight through me — he’d see how much I wanted to keep him, how much I wanted him. If Marcus Holden saw that, Clay was going to wish he were dead long before death found him.
“I think you should bring him this afternoon.” It was a warning — probably the last warning I’d get. And I thought about giving in — I thought about saying yes, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever.
