Park shook his head, staring at Gift in wonder. “Who are you?”
“Maybe you should try to find out?”
“It’s not…a good idea. We can be…friendly, but that’s it.”
Gift shrugged a shoulder as if his heart wasn’t crumbling into a thousand pieces. “Okay,” he said, walking out the door. When it started to shut, Gift caught it once more, peeking his head around the corner to find Park much closer than he expected. “Hia…”
Park gave him a patient look. “Yes,ouen?”
“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll find someone who will.”
“Gift,” Park growled.
“Night,” Gift said, leaning forward on impulse, then dropping the smallest of kisses on Park’s jaw before darting down the hall, not stopping until he was in the safety of his room.
He’d kissed him. Sort of. Enough to feel the heat of his skin, the stubble on his chin. It was the tiniest of victories—one he’d won through trickery. His elation soured as he thought of Park’s rejection. He’d wanted him. Gift could feel it. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed, kicking his feet, feeling moderately better afterwards.
Payton said it would happen. He said they’d discuss things in detail and adjust the course as needed. Park had won this battle, but Gift would win the war.
Park made a concerted effort to ignore the soft brown eyes boring into him from across the room. He leaned back in his seat, legs kicked up on the table and crossed at the ankles while he stared straight ahead. He was not going to let that little shit think he’d gotten to him. Even though he most definitely had. Park hadn’t jerked off so much in one night since he was thirteen.
“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll find someone who will.”
The fuck he would. Did he mean Payton? Park’s gaze flicked to the kid in question, taking in his heavy black liner and wild hair. What the hell did thatchildknow about sex? Or even kissing? Was he even old enough to drink? Gift had said kiss but he’d meant sex. He wanted to lose his virginity in every sense of the word, and that wasn’t fucking happening on Park’s watch.
Not by anybody but me.
No. Not by anybody. Park had more self-control than this. He was a trained killer. That took discipline. It took patience. All of which seemed to go out the window whenever Gift was within reach. The boy was haunting him, his voice bouncing around in his head so much he could barely hear his own thoughts.
“He said he’d be gentle. He said he’d make it really good for me. I hear he’s a really good kisser. He’s a bit big, which might hurt.”
Park slammed his hand down on the table, drawing the startled looks of almost a dozen students all with varying degrees of confusion on their faces. All but Gift, who started to smile but then had the good sense to hide it. He’d be lucky if Park didn’t put him over his fucking knee and spank him until he cried.
Park’s cock twitched. Dammit. The last thing he needed was to think about Gift, underwear around his thighs, skin cherry red from Park’s palm, crying so sweetly. Begging, even. He huffed out an irritated breath. Who could have ever thought he’d be such a brat?
A week ago, Park would have said Gift was too sweet, too soft, too naive for this world, this life. But it was Park who’d been naive. Gift had lied to Park from the beginning, and he hadn’t suspected a thing. Park shook his head. The boy could speak English the whole time.
Sure, Gift had a point. They shouldn’t have assumed he couldn’t speak the language. In hindsight, it seemed obvious. There was no way an international school hadn’t ensured the students spoke English. But it was just so easy to believe he was still a sweet, innocent boy with soft cheeks and pretty brown eyes. Eyes that had looked up at Park so hopefully last night when he’d asked him to have sex with him.
Park swallowed audibly. Christ. How did he get himself into this mess? Two days ago, he’d had his life totally under control, and now, it was chaos and not the kind he’d spent his life thriving on. Park had cut himself off from the reality of ever having Gift, resigning his desires to his nightly jerk-off fantasy. It was the right thing to do.
But in one day, Gift had dug under his fence and planted the smallest seed of possibility in Park’s brain—that he was Park’s for the taking, in any way he chose—and now, that knowledge was spreading, overtaking his rationality like an invasive species, choking out Park’s resistance.
Park was jerked out of his moping when Persephone rocketed forward in her chair, hair flying and hinges protesting. He blinked, looking around at the packed meeting room. His students had shoved several small tables together, and they all lazed around them, staring at the two manila folders in the center of the table.
“So…what do we do?” Diego asked, his fingers dancing over the one closest to him. “Like, do we just dive in?”
Park couldn’t care less how they solved their little project or even if they did. He hadn’t looked at the information in those envelopes any more than he had the digital files Archer had forwarded him sometime last night. He was just a babysitter.
Park shrugged. “I’m not even supposed to be here, remember? Feel free to ignore me entirely.”
“You’re not going to help us at all?” Remi asked, eyes wide.
Park shrugged. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t die or embarrass yourselves. Other than that, I don’t exist.”
Gift blinked in surprise, then dragged his top teeth over his bottom lip in a nervous gesture that had Park staring at the glistening wetness left behind. Thoughts of Gift on his knees, face smeared with saliva, Park’s cock heavy on his tongue, assaulted him without cause. Gift smiled shyly, then dipped his gaze like he could hear Park’s dirty thoughts.
The others were blissfully unaware, clearly more irritated by his lack of help. Morgan scoffed, and Dove rolled her eyes, but it was Persephone who shook her head then snatched a folder from beneath Diego’s limp fingertips, ignoring his look of surprise.
