20. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
M organ adjusted the collar of his shirt, his eyes fixed on the reflection in the sun visor’s mirror. It was the same thing he saw, day after day, the image he’d perfected—composed. Untouchable. But underneath, the surface was splintering, his heart pounding against his ribs so hard he was sure something was damaged.
“You look pale, Morgan,” Kate said quietly, the pressure of her fingers against his thigh too light. Images of the gala came back in jittering, half-lit quality, demanding to rip apart the last bits of the facade.
Flipping the visor back up, Morgan turned his head just enough to avoid her gaze. “I’m taking on too many responsibilities at the office. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
The faint laughter coming from outside the car tightened his jaw. Wendy’s high, sweet voice slid over Lex’s deeper tone. Morgan didn’t need to look out the window to know what they were doing—Lex’s hand lingering on her shoulder or arm, leaning too close to her ear, and Wendy hanging on his every word.
Every giggle, every sway of Wendy’s hips—clad in her skin-tight skirt—made Morgan want to take a baseball bat to that over-done, fake personality. Scrape off the layers of makeup with a scalpel until only bone gleamed back at him.
Morgan rolled his shoulders to try and ease the tension there, offering Kate the briefest of smiles. “Are you ready?”
The restaurant was another obscene display of wealth with its hanging gold chandeliers and barely-there candlelight.
Why would someone volunteer to dine at a place where they couldn’t see their food? It didn’t seem to matter to the people—everyone’s phone was out, cameras flashing, the subtle hush of influencer’s chatter filtering over the noise of dishes and glasses .
When the hostess led the four of them to one of the tables, draped in the same floor length white cloth that adorned every wall, Morgan couldn’t be bothered to hide his disdain.
Pretentious. All of it.
And who did Wendy expect to pay for this? Lex, no doubt. In all of his infinite stupidity, he probably didn’t even ask such an important question. No negotiations. Typical. Lex viewing this as a chance to impress her and failing spectacularly.
He didn’t want to be here tonight—not for Kate’s concerned, forced small talk, not for Wendy’s poor attempts at flirting, and certainly not to witness Lex playing this painfully annoying version of a gentleman.
Then again, they both were, in a way. But Morgan knew better.
Pulling out the chair for Kate on reflex, Morgan didn’t look at her as she whispered her thanks. Instead, his eyes honed in on Lex, helping Wendy into her chair with an exaggerated bow.
“Who knew you were chivalrous?” Wendy giggled, her fingers lingering on Lex’s shoulder when he sat down.
“It’s not dead. Good guys exist out here, I swear to god.”
“They do. Somewhere,” Morgan murmured, smoothing his hands over the tablecloth, “but I think those men are simply misplaced.”
Lex’s grin faltered for a second before it came back, brighter than before. “Aren’t we all.”
Wendy’s laugh was already grating on Morgan’s nerves.
“You two must have been hilarious growing up together. Oh, I know! Why not tell us a story?” She looked between them, and Morgan didn’t feel like jumping in this time. He picked up the menu, scanning down the named dishes— Monica’s Marvelous Mole , or Rubin’s Rocking Reuben —and suppressed the shudder.
The camp would’ve been appreciated if a sandwich wasn’t priced at nearly sixty-five dollars.
Ridiculous.
“Pretty please?” Wendy continued, with the insistence of someone who didn’t know when to quit. “It’ll be fun.”
Morgan didn’t need to look to feel Lex’s eyes on him.
There was nothing to say. They barely spoke back then, and when they did, the words were knives—cutting, sharp, often leaving Lex in tears.
“Why the hell not?” Lex said, the chair creaking as he moved. “Morgan was in pre-med, right?”
This should be fun.
“He had all these exams. A shit ton. He’d be up til three or four in the morning, and leave at six. So. Picture this: one day, I get up for school and see his books and notes left out on the kitchen table. He’s gone. Poof. Mom hasn’t seen him, James hasn’t seen him. I have to make this massive detour to get his stuff to him. Except, I can’t find him anywhere on campus.”
Morgan frowned, narrowing his eyes as he glanced up. Lex had never visited him during college. Not once. But this sounded familiar.
“When I do manage to find him, he’s… tutoring this guy that looks like a kid. So, like any good little brother , I just leave his shit by his bag. How old was he , Morgan? Couldn’t have been much older than I was. ”
The blood drained from Morgan’s face, pooling somewhere near his feet and leaving him dizzy.
That’s why it sounded familiar.
His fingers tightened on the edge of the menu as the memory came back, raw and unfiltered. He had thought he’d heard the empty classroom door open. Thought someone had walked in—had assumed the worst—when he had his pants around his ankles, his hand around whoever’s neck.
“He was a freshman at state,” Morgan muttered, his tone even, despite the dryness when he swallowed. “So perhaps my age, give or take a year.”
Morgan kept his expression neutral, the candle swaying in his vision. Lex wasn’t embellishing a story. Wasn’t trying to get laughs or attention. It wasn’t some coincidence.
He would never leave his things lying out in the open. Ever. How many times had Lex been in his room without him knowing? How many other times had Lex been at the campus, hovering there, unnoticed?
Why had he assumed it was only the woods Lex followed him into?
How long had Lex been stalking him back then?
But even through the ugly knowledge, it didn’t still the single word echoing around. If anything, it bolstered it—giving it friends, other words trailing behind it, feeding it, giving it meaning.
Lex is mine.
Not as a thing. He'd somehow graduated from that, climbed the ladder up to person. Something living and breathing.
Something with meaning .
The realization didn’t disgust Morgan. Didn’t make him recoil. It settled in his chest, wrapping around his ribs like armor. Lex wasn’t simply fascinated with him. He was obsessed —hungrier than Morgan once believed.
And that? That was proof of something deeper, more primal between them. Something that was starting to have less and less to do with their game.
And none of it concerned Kate or Wendy.
By the time the waiter came around to switch out the wine bottle and refresh Morgan’s own sidecar cocktail, the conversation had dulled into menial chatter. Easy to digest topics—office gossip, Lex’s hobbies, whether Kate would invite Wendy to join her bridal party.
Raising his eyebrows, he listened to the girls prattle on about dresses and venues. Things he had no interest in, but could feign if the questions started again. His focus, as it had been for days now, had gone elsewhere.
Back to Lex.
Lex’s usual slouch—legs so long they bumped against Morgan’s under the table—was one of the things that drove Morgan to the brink of sheer, unprovoked violence. It didn’t matter how many times he’d tell Lex to straighten up, to look more presentable. The advice went in one pierced ear and out the other.
Infuriating.
Morgan smirked, versions of payback already circling in his mind. The gala was… extraordinarily difficult to keep calm during, es pecially after Lex’s stunt in the coat room. A little reminder of who held the leash was necessary and amusing.
Slipping off one shoe with the toe of the other, he propped his foot on the chair between Lex’s legs.
The reaction was instant.
Lex’s eyes slid over, narrowing just enough to ask the silent question: What are you doing? His posture didn’t change, hand didn’t unclasp from the soda he’d been nursing, but the twist of his mouth was obvious.
“—Morgan.” Wendy’s voice saying his name sounded more akin to glass shattering than syllables. He had missed whatever start this conversation had. “You don’t mind if I call you that, right? Since we’re not at work?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Kate brought up a good question: who’s going to be your best man?”
Lex snorted. “ Jake , probably,” he said, the jealousy dripping down and splattering the table in green pools.
Morgan tilted his head, his foot shifting upward, sliding over Lex’s inner thigh, then farther over. Lex’s legs stiffened. They squeezed together, trying to hold him there or block him. Either way, it almost made him laugh.
“I haven’t quite decided that,” Morgan murmured, his eyes glued to Lex’s face, savoring the blush creeping up. “I’d take you if you were interested. We’ve become so close, haven’t we?”
“Never th-thought you’d ask,” Lex stuttered when Morgan pressed his foot down a little harder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to put Lex in just as precarious of a position as he was in last week. “I’d have to think about it. When’s the big day, Kate?”
Kate perked up, her voice light with excitement. “We haven’t had a chance to talk much about it, but I love the snow. Maybe in the winter? A Christmas wedding would be so beautiful.”
Morgan was planning on participating, on actively listening to what Kate had to say. But his attention diverted as he watched one of Lex’s hands move under the table.
It wasn’t what he expected.
Fingers brushed the top of Morgan’s foot. Not pushing him away. Not trying to get him to stop. No.
Instead, Lex’s hips sank lower in the chair, and his palms pressed Morgan’s foot even closer. There was a glitch in his blink—one eye, then the other—and his lips parted, but no sound came out.
Morgan didn’t even have to put in the effort anymore. He just let Lex take control. The sensation of Lex’s cock grinding against his foot wasn’t his particular style of kink, but it wasn’t terrible.
Kate cleared her throat, the glassware shaking as she stood. “I need to go freshen up.”
Wendy’s giggle followed, still as grating as ever, but Morgan didn’t bother sparing her a glance. Not while the haze in Lex’s blue eyes was pulling him in. The slight tremor when Lex put down his soda was delightful.
Morgan could deal with Wendy a little while longer.
“I was literally about to say the same thing,” Wendy said, too sugary for his taste.
It didn’t matter .
As soon as the girls left, Lex dropped all the subtlety. Both hands gripped Morgan’s foot, deliberate and insistent, rubbing it against his dick. The low, quiet moan uncurled something inside Morgan’s stomach.
Lex was already so needy that it almost bordered on adorable. Seeing the unraveling in real time was worth the odd pull in the back of his calf—he’d probably strained something.
“You are terrible.”
“ Fuck ,” Lex groaned, half-lidded eyes never wavering from Morgan’s, “you started this…”
“I did. And if you want me to continue, I need something from you.”
Lex tilted his head to the side, all flushed cheeks and dilated pupils—prettier than he had any right to be in such a crowded restaurant. More tempting than Morgan cared to admit.
“Spit it out, Morgan,” he murmured after another second.
“Tell me how much you’re enjoying this. That’s all. My easiest request yet.”
Lex’s breath stuttered, the hesitation palpable. That lovely, wet tongue slid over his lower lip once. Slow. Agonizing. Bent on taking apart of last little bits of Morgan’s self-control.
Yet his little brother had gone remarkably silent. Again.
As usual.
Slipping his foot off Lex’s lap and back into his shoe, the look of displeasure was better than the look of unbridled pleasure a few seconds ago .
“You learn to speak,” Morgan whispered as he leaned forward, folding his arms over the table, “and I’ll gladly pick up where we left off.”