Page 185 of Damián

My thumb trails soft circles on his thigh. “No one knows.”

“Is Serena safe?” he asks, and I nod.

“So is Clara. Your family is safe.”

Then, Oliver tenses up… “I’m sorry, Damián.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I broke my promise,” he says, looking down. “That nothing from my world would ever touch your family. You even had to tell them about us.”

“I’m not a fan of how this happened, but I am happy they met you, Oliver,” I tell him. “And I meant every single word of what I told my mother out there. This whole thing… it might have started as a fake cover story, but my feelings for you are real.”

His eyes lift to meet mine, wide and tentative. “They are?”

“Ollie, would you be my real boyfriend?”

“Ugh, I don’t know if I want that specific label, Damián,” he says, and I swear my heart stops, but then he smiles. “Being a boyfriend sounds like a lot of commitment, and I think I’d rather be your Taco Master.”

I glare at him, and Oliver bursts out laughing.

You monster…

I attack him with a barrage of kisses, capturing his mouth before catching him off guard and pinning him down onto the bed.

Oliver yelps, trying to squirm out from under me, but I just keep kissing his face until he’s laughing uncontrollably, begging for forgiveness between gasps of air. When his laughter finally tapers off into a breathless smile, he looks up at me.

He wraps his arms around my neck, pulls me down for a kiss, and whispers against my lips, “Yes, Dami. I want to be your real boyfriend.”

“Took you long enough,” I smile before kissing him again.

I roll us on the bed, and Oliver yelps the moment his back touches the wet towel I put on the bed. “Ugh! This is cold.”

Grimacing, he sits up and grabs it, then goes to the desk to drape the towel over the back of the chair.

I walk across the room, stepping up behind him, and wrap my arms around his waist. I pull his back against my chest, leaning down to press a kiss on his shoulder blade. I trail my lips up the curve of his neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.

Oliver lets out a soft murmur, and my kisses turn hungrier.

He tries to turn around and push me away, but he barely moves me an inch. “Damián… absolutely not.”

I turn him back around, guiding him until his hands press against the wall. Caging him in, I grab his hips and pull him back against me.

“Why? Don’t you want me, Ollie?” I whisper against his ear, and his body shudders.

He turns his head slightly, his hazel eyes darkening. “The answer to that question will always be a definitive yes, you idiot,” he glares. “But your entire family is here.”

“They’re not in this room,” I say against his neck.

My hands slide down his waist, pressing tighter against him, forcing him to feel exactly how much he affects me.

“Dami, they are in the house,” he hisses, his fingers digging into my wrists.

“Are you planning to be loud, my Taco Master?”

Oliver glares at me over his shoulder, his expression a mix of irritation and arousal. “They just found out today that you have a boyfriend. They just found out your boyfriend is the son of Elijah West, and they were literally shot at. I am not adding extra family trauma to that list by letting them hear us have sex.”

“Alright, alright. Valid point.” I lean my forehead against his shoulder. “But… what if we don’t make any noise?”