Locke nuzzled my neck, brushing his lips along my jaw. “You don’t believe him now.”
A statement, not a question.
Accurate. But still, the guilt hurt as much as it always has. “You like The Lamps?”
“The band?”
I nodded. “Finn’sband. He owns a record company too—that dude you met tonight, Shay.”
“Saint’s brother?”
“Yeah. They’re friends. Since Finn signed Smuggler’s Beat a few years ago.”
Locke let out a low whistle. “Don’t tell Willow that. You’re already the coolest motherfucker she ever met.”
I snorted. “Mate, that’syou.”
He wasn’t having it, I could tell. And he had more questions; I saw them in his eyes.
I scratched the scruff on his face, revelling in the barely audible moan he let fly in response. “Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“Whatever you want to know.”
Locke leaned into my touch. “Are you close to your cousin?”
“As close as we can be when he’s married to a copper.”
“Ouch.”
I shrugged. “Is what it is. It’s not Finn’s fault I’m a fucking rascal.”
“What are his parents like?”
“They’re good people.”
“You wish they were yours?”
I considered that as Locke traced my lips with his thumb and my dick gave an optimistic, misguided twitch. “If I’d had different parents, they wouldn’t have sent me to live with my other uncle. Then I’d never have been a Rebel King, and I needed that in my life. Cam. Rubi. Orla and Riv. They taught me how to love with my whole fucking heart, you know?”
Locke kissed my neck. “I know.”
“Do you know that I love you? I didn’t say it back earlier, and then other shit got in the way.”
Locke claimed my mouth, stealing my breath with a bruising kiss. “Brother, you’re not a soul who needs words.”
I knew other men like that. But I wasn’t Saint. Not even close. And I wanted to hold Locke’s face and tell him, again, that I loved him. I wanted to go outside and scream it at the sea.
Instead, I let him kiss me some more. Let him grind our dicks together until I was so desperate to feel him inside me I couldn’t speak at all.How were we doing this again? I’d come so hard the first time I wasn’t sure it would ever happen again.
But it did.
More than once, until we knocked out, we slept, and I woke up to us still fucking, but a different way this time.
I was on my back, knees bent, hands already death-gripping the headboard as Locke slowly lowered his hips and my throbbing cock disappeared insidehim.
Holy fucking shit. I tipped my head back with a shocked gasp, muscles constricting with tight, hot, and unexpected pleasure—my new favourite way to wake up. “Fuck.”
