The boyish grin on his face doubles as he replies, “Why? Afraid I’ll maul you in the middle of the night?”
I nod. “I’m concerned you only see that as a possibility instead of a given. I thought my fate was already decided, but I guess if you’ve had your fun, I may as well head home.”
He ends my scoot across the mattress by grabbing ahold of my arm. “We have nine days, three hours, and twenty-seven minutes remaining on your contract. Once that’s done, I’ll maul you as often as you want, but until then, get your fine ass back here to heat my cock while I sleep.”
“Are you sure you’re not Tarzan?” I roll over then shimmy back, purposely grinding my ass more than necessary. “You went all caveman on me, and although he’s more aJungle Booktype of guy, I’m certain I heard some Tarzanish twang in there.”
“I have many ethnicities in my bloodlines, but we missed out on the African jungle lineage, I’m afraid.”
I stick out my bottom lip. “That’s a shame. You sure do have the cock for it.”
His laugh vibrates through my chest. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. You have a very splendid penis.”Which happens to be digging into my ass more with every word I speak.
After reminding myself that nine days isn’t really that long, I shift our conversation to less dangerous waters. “A little birdie told me your birthday is coming up.”
“Dalton?”
“Huh?”
Elvis cranks an elbow to peer down at me. “Was the little birdie Dalton?”
I nod. With an overworked gasp, his torso flops back onto the mattress.
“I know it’s before a big game month, but did you want to do something? We could grab a slice at Mickey’s before watching a movie. Or try out that new go-kart track that opened up recently?”
He groans as if nothing I’m serving sounds appetizing.
“We have to do something, E. You only turn sixty once—” I squeal like I’m twelve when his hands dive into my ribs. It isn’t a little tickle I can push off as an accident. It’s one of the torture methods sick, sadistic people use on poor, unsuspecting victims. “Alright! Alright! Alright! We don’t have to celebrate your thirty-ninth 21stbirthday.”
While dragging my hair off my face, I scoot back half a foot. “But we’ve got to have cake. It’s cake. You love cake.” I actually don’t know if he does, but I sure do. “Can we do cake?”
I gain back some of my maturity when he murmurs, “We’ll do cake, but I can’t sign up for anything else. I’ve got plans in the works.”
“Oh.”Well, that sucks.“At least there’ll be cake.”
His confession puts a dampener on our exchange. Not from Elvis’s side; he’s more than happy to pull me back to his side of the bed, roll me, and spoon me like I’m his own personal body pillow. It’s only me left wondering who’s so vital in his life, he can’t spare an hour of his birthday to grab a slice with me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Presley
“No. Don’t move. Not yet.” I scurry across warm sheets to secure Willow back into my arms. We’ve only been sleeping for five hours, but it’s been the most restful five hours I’ve ever had. “Just a few more hours.”
I stop chewing on air to replenish my mouth with spit when Willow whispers, “Someone’s in your house.”
“What?” I jackknife up so fast, we nearly bump heads.
“Listen.” She tries to calm the frantic beats of her heart as she cranks her ear to the noise. “They sound like they’re in the kitchen.” Her brows lower down her face as her lips twist. “Making pancakes?”
A blistering smile stretches across my face. After flinging off the sheets, I climb out of bed. Willow watches me like I’m insane. I guess that makes sense. Who interrupts an intruder brandishing nothing but a smile? Only one man would be stupid enough to do that. A sister’s baby brother.
“It’s my sister, Syndi. She and her son, Emerick travel down every year for my birthday.”
My love for my sister is clear in my voice. Don’t get me wrong, when we were younger, we shared the typical sibling hate, but once I got older and realized exactly how much Syndi did for me, that became a thing of the past.
Syndi was a professional dancer like Willow. She just didn’t dance for her pleasure. She did it for the men willing to fill her bikini bottoms with crinkly dollar bills, then she deposited that money into a bank account and paid for my schooling. If she hadn’t put her body on the line for me, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. Can you understand my appreciation now?
