Chapter Nine #2
Foster shrugged again. “No, but then I saw three men try to kill you, so I figure it’s that part.”
Atticus surprised him. “No.” He threw back the rest of his wine as if he needed the fortification.
“It’s the part where my dad murdered, exploited, and ruined lives to satisfy a greed that never stopped growing.
The sheer knowledge of having to fight for my life to hang on to a legacy built on blood and tears.
It’s a responsibility I carry. Not a blessing of endless wealth.
I know hundreds of various fighting styles, more than just for protection.
It’s a forty-six-year-old martial arts instructor with a failing studio and a family to feed.
The same money that left her a single parent saved her business and home and helped her retire.
It’s a multimillion-dollar charity that helps improve the lives of people whose entire world was destroyed by addiction, and a second one for suicide prevention. ”
“I never found any of that when I searched your name online.”
“I imagine you didn’t see a lot of things about me, because it’s me, and I’m smarter than everyone else. It’s easy for me to hide online.”
A smile exploded across Foster’s face. “There’s the Atticus I know and love.”
Atticus laughed, warming Foster’s chest. “I believe in being honest with yourself, even when that looks conceited to others. When no one else is kind to you, it’s best not to humble yourself. No need to include yourself among the haters.”
Foster couldn’t decide if that was sad or inspirational. “You’re definitely one of a kind. Before you ask, that’s a good thing.” Foster turned serious and swept Atticus with his gaze. “It’s a very good thing.”
Atticus held his stare while heat built between them. A moment passed before he spoke. “We’ve shopped and done our sightseeing.”
“And had dinner,” Foster added.
Atticus nodded. “That too. Sounds like it’s about time to get back to our bedroom.”
“Our bedroom?”
Atticus lifted one shoulder. “You’re the one who asked me to stay.”
Something dark and hungry grew inside Foster. A possessiveness he had never experienced roared to life. “I’m not gonna make it that far.”
Atticus didn’t laugh at his confession. He stood and threw a few bills on the table before Foster could argue about paying.
Atticus headed for the door while Foster scrambled to follow.
When he reached the SUV they had commandeered for the day, Atticus calmly waited by the passenger-side back door.
As soon as Foster was close enough, the doors unlocked.
Atticus opened the door and went to work folding down the seats. He climbed in.
Foster looked around before doing the same. He locked the doors behind them. Atticus took off his shirt. Foster couldn’t take it. “Are you nuts?”
Atticus’ hungry gaze had Foster forgetting what he objected to. “It’s dark. We’re in an even darker parking spot. The windows are tinted. No one will see us.”
Foster was already straddling Atticus and unzipping his jeans even as he argued. “They might not see us, but this SUV bouncing will definitely give us away.”
“It’s like you don’t even know me.” Atticus tore open Foster’s jeans and palmed Foster’s erection.
“Do you mean to tell me there’s no way we can make each other fly without giving ourselves away?
” His gaze raked Foster’s body and focused on Foster’s dick.
“I think you should spin around here and put this in my mouth.”
“Fuck.” The whispered, drawn-out curse sounded loud in the silence.
Foster immediately scrambled out of his clothes, swapped positions, and straddled Atticus’ head.
He didn’t need to hear the demand twice.
Foster led his cock to Atticus’ mouth, and Atticus took over.
For a moment, Foster was stricken useless with the suction pulling at his dick.
Then a desperate need to taste Atticus hit.
He wasted no time swallowing Atticus’ erection.
A low moan vibrated around his cock. The sensation had Foster putting his heart into the blow job.
Everything about Atticus was perfect for him.
Atticus was shameless, intense, and just a little insane.
No one could appreciate him the way Foster would.
Foster’s muscles tensed. The perfect mouth beneath him was too much for Foster.
He was about to blow. Everything felt too good.
Atticus had way too much talent. He supposed that spending years in sex clubs had taught him a thing or two.
The thought pulled Foster away from the edge.
Atticus had done God knows what with everyone he could.
What if he really did find Foster boring?
This wasn’t the first time he had experienced that fear.
In fact, disappointing Atticus was exactly why Foster had decided not to pursue this not that long ago.
Hot cum filled his mouth while Atticus moaned around Foster’s cock.
Every worry vanished in an instant. Then Foster had to smother his cries as Atticus took him to heaven.
He could fulfill Atticus’ needs, or Foster would die trying.