Park dragged his gaze back to the board, pretending to ignore Gift’s little show, pretending his cock wasn’t rock hard. Yeah, Gift was ripe for a spanking. He was pushing his luck. Would he cry? Would he beg for forgiveness? Would he get on his knees for Park?
Christ.
He did his best to covertly adjust himself behind the unforgiving fabric of his trousers. He needed Gift to understand he was playing with fire. That Park would only be pushed so far before he snapped, and Gift had him rapidly hurtling towards that threshold.
What was the harm? He was an adult. They both were. Who could possibly get hurt?
Anchali.
Her name popped into his head unbidden, halting his dirty thoughts in their tracks like an uttered safe word or like someone invoking a demon. This was his best friend’s son he was imagining naked on his knees. He’d look so goddamn pretty like that. Park huffed out another irritated breath. He needed to be an adult about this. Anchali had given her son to him to protect, not violate.
But maybe protection involved discipline?
The psychiatrist was right. Park was a psychopath. No matter how much he wanted to care that Anchali would hate him, he just…didn’t. He’d been able to fake it before, told himself if he just stayed detached he could make this work, could keep Gift at arm’s length. But it was all bullshit. The only thing keeping Park from mauling Gift was the knowledge that it would break the boy.
Gift might not have been as sweet and innocent as Park had once suspected, but he was a virgin. Hell, he’d never even been kissed. He now hoped this meeting dragged on. If he had to stand up anytime soon, his entire pod would see just how turned on he was and getting a hard-on while staring at a picture of a dead girl might be a step too far, even for a group of psychopaths.
* * *
Park forced himself to zone out and ignore Gift and the others for the rest of the meeting. He played chess in his head, replayed kills that could have been cleaner. He even started a fantasy baseball league. Anything to ignore the heated glances Gift threw his way every few minutes.
Just when Park was about to pull the plug himself, Drake pointed out the time. They all stood, as if they’d just been waiting for a chance to run. Some stretched, others yawned. Park remained seated as they gathered their things, his mouth a hard line as Gift made a show of bending over to grab his bag from the floor. Park stared greedily. Those uniform pants clung to Gift’s pert ass like a second skin.
Were those regulation?
Park snapped out of it when Dove asked, “Are we going to, like, get to interview witnesses? If so, how do we do it without drawing suspicion?”
“That’s a great question,” Park said with a smile. “One you’ll have to figure out yourselves. Let me know what you decide. But remember, the other pods are working their own cases so don’t wait too long to strategize.”
Morgan and Remi groaned. Luca and Jay sighed. The others just sort of shuffled towards the door, unbothered, bags thrown over their shoulders. Everyone but Gift, who lagged at the back of the group. Once they were gone, he closed the door, dropping his bag back on the table as he studied Park like he was a bomb he needed to disarm. Park stood, suddenly feeling like sitting left him…vulnerable. Gift looked amused by Park’s behavior. He studied him for another moment, then started to move.
Park thrust his jaw forward, forcing that mask of indifference back into place. There was a pink tint to Gift’s soft cheeks, and he looked anywhere but at Park, but his hips swayed with each step. Park watched them move like a metronome, riveted.
Park needed to leave. When Gift was near him, he lost every ounce of resolve. He couldn’t remember a single time in his life when he’d been so weak around another person, but Gift’s clumsy seduction attempt already had Park’s dick taking notice. He felt like a fucking teenager.
Gift stopped when he stood between Park and the table, leaning back on his hands, finally meeting Park’s gaze from beneath long lashes, biting the corner of his lip. It should have looked ridiculous, over the top, but he was beautiful. A walking wet dream.
“What are you doing, Kla?” Park asked, a little hint of warning seeping into his tone.
Gift’s face fell, lips pooching out in an exaggerated pout. “Back to that again? Can’t you call meouen?Or at least Gift.”
Park should have never called him that in the first place, but it had rolled off his tongue so easily. Gift was adorably plump in all the right places, his lips, his cheeks, his ass. Park ached with the need to intimately acquaint himself with all of them. It was impossible to look at Gift and not just…want.
“We shouldn’t be alone in here together,ouen,” Park said, giving into Gift’s request without thought.
Gift hopped up on the table directly in front of Park, leaning back on his hands and letting his knees fall open, leaving just enough space for Park to step between. “Why?” he asked huskily.
Park’s heated gaze dragged over Gift’s form, taking in long limbs and a tiny waist, legs that went on for days. Park couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered at the juncture of Gift’s thighs. He wondered if the boy was hard, or if that was a well-placed fold in the fabric.
Finally, he forced himself to look at Gift’s face. “I’m afraid people might get the wrong idea.”
Gift hooked a brow, his expression dubious. “We’re alone in your apartment every night. Isn’t that way more scandalous? Besides, what could happen? You said no, remember?”
The question was rhetorical. Gift was teasing Park, taunting him, giving him his most innocent eyes even as he stared at Park’s lips.
“Gift,” Park said, his voice a low rumble.
“Park,” he countered, blinking up at him owlishly. “Oh, sorry.Hia.”
