Page 48 of Total Abandon

His eyes round and he sits up abruptly, his gaze bouncing across the room at his dad, who is glaring at us both. PG decides this is the moment to leap up onto the bed, stalking over to me aggressively as if to say, “You shut me out?!”

“Pussy Galore!” Diego yelps, launching himself at me so hard all the breath whooshes from my chest. I rasp out a breathless laugh, because I’m a child and it will never not be funny to hear him shout this so gleefully. Disgruntled by all the noise—ironic—PG shoots off the bed and up onto the top of the bedside table with an angry little mewl.

“That’s…” Diego frowns, his slim brows knitting together. “Not hot girl behavior,” he settles on and I go entirely still. My eyes widen as I try to stifle an incredulous laugh. Good lord, how much has this kid been listening to me talk?

“It’s not what?” Zeke sounds completely stumped, which makes me want to laugh even more. The scowl is gone, which is an improvement, but he’s still hovering by the door, bemusement written into every chiseled line of his face.

“It’s what Chloe says when she talks to herself,” Diego supplies, unaware of the aneurysm about to blow in his dad's temple.

Little shit just ratted me out. Hawk-like eyes are turned to me, his arms folding across his chest in a way that makes muscle and sinew ripple. God damn, I would like to lick every line of…nope, don’t go there.

“Erm…hot girl behavior? Like, if I feel lazy and don’t want to work out, or if I cry because a dog I follow on Instagram died, or….” I trail off as he looks at me like I’m insane. He does this a lot. Maybe he’s onto something. “I just tell myself ‘this is not hot girl behavior’ and force myself to pull it together.” I shrug, running out of steam.

His lips twitch with amusement and then he lets out a deep breath, pressing a forefinger and thumb into his eyes briefly.Something he does when he’s exasperated, I’ve learned. “Okay, and can we circle back to why my son is sleeping in your bed?” He’s looking at me again, but his chocolate eyes sparkle and he’s unable to hide his amusement this time.

“He’s been sneaking in here almost every night since I moved in. I usually carry him back to his own bed once he’s asleep but…”

“But you sunk enough tequila last night to tranq a small bull?” he offers helpfully, quirking one brow.

“Something like that,” I agree, trying not to think of the way his eyes flashed when I climbed on top of him in the back of the car. I know he finds me attractive. He had even so much as told me on the plane he was going to fuck me the moment I begged, so I’m hard pressed to understand why he palmed me off. It makes me feel uneasy. It’s new territory, being rejected so blatantly. That’s not me being arrogant, I just don’t typically end up in a guy's lap to then get turned down. If it gets to that stage, it’s game on.

He shakes his head with a wry smile painted on his decadent lips. “I wondered why he had stopped crawling into mine. There was me thinking he had grown out of it.”

“Maybe he just likes me better.” I smirk, reaching over to ruffle Diego’s dark locks. He offers me a toothy smile, wrinkling his little button nose.

“Hard not to. Come on, mi chico angel, breakfast.” Zeke gestures with a hand for him to move, ignoring my wide eyes at that comment. “I’ll cook enough for you, if your hangover can stomach it?”

He cooks? “No Suzanna?” His housekeeper usually prepares the meals.

“Nope, both her and Maria have the day off. It’s just us today. Diego’s got a friend's birthday party at Central Park later on, so you’ll have the place to yourself.” Diego plunks down lightly onto the thick carpet and races for his father.

“Excellent, I miss walking around naked.” The words roll off my tongue before I can stop them, and I curse myself internally.

Zeke pauses mid-turn, his dark eyes flashing back to me. “Don’t refrain on my account.” I frown as he winks, actuallywinks,and then turns on his heel to walk away.

Apparently, we’re straight back to flirtation like nothing happened. Talk about mixed signals. By the time I’ve forced myself into the shower, shrugged on a sweatsuit, and padded down the stairs, Zeke and Diego are already sitting at the kitchen island with pancakes and bacon piled up in front of them. Unfortunately for my already scrambled brain, he’s still shirtless and I have a fantastic view of defined, broad shoulder muscles bunched under tawny skin as he leans his elbows on the counter.

Taking pause at the bottom of the stairs, I lean against the wall and watch. I’m too far away to hear what they are talking about, but I can feel the deep baritone of Zeke’s voice—the kind of deep that rumbles in your chest even from another room. Diego nods thoughtfully as he grabs the squeeze bottle and struggles to pop the cap. Zeke takes it from his little hands and flips the top, pouring a healthy measure onto his son’s pancakes before moving on to his own. The sweet smell of maple syrup hits the back of my throat and I groan. This is exactly what I need.

When he’s done, he swipes up a drip of syrup from the top and surprises me by wiping it on Diego’s nose. He squeaks, his little hands flying to his face as he giggles. Zeke’s deep laughter twines with it, his face split into a breathtaking grin. A strange sensation is happening in my chest, a flip-flop of sorts. There is something so pure about the two of them, sitting here together. It’s like I’m being offered a window into life in this place before I arrived. A life that Zeke has clearly worked very hard to shelter from the public eye.

Clearing my throat, which is suddenly thick with an emotion I don’t want to examine too closely, I push myself off the wall. The soft sound draws Zeke’s attention away from his son, and he offers me a half smile before his brows rise. There is no teasing in his gaze, just a rapt sort of fascination as he takes me in.

“You’re staring,” I say bluntly as I near, mirroring words he has spoken to me…when I was gawping at his dick.

“Yep.” He offers me a wry smile, his eyes no doubt dancing with the same memory that fills my mind. Not being able to bear thethought of the tediously long time it takes me to wash and dry my hair, it’s currently piled up on top of my head in a bun. The glasses I only wear when I can’t be bothered to fiddle with contact lenses are perched on my nose. I’m definitely not in a state where he should be looking at me like that—like he wants to say screw the pancakes and eat me instead.

“Care to tell me why?” I slip onto the tall chair on the opposite side of the island in front of a plate of pancakes that have been placed there for me.

“I’ve never seen you with your hair up. You have a very pretty neck,” he says matter-of-factly, cutting off a slice of his pancakes and popping it into his mouth. His carved jaw flexes as he chews slowly, his eyes pinned on my face. I feel it heat under his gaze, sure that my cheeks are turning pinker by the second.

“That’s an odd compliment.” I keep my voice as dry as possible as I pour myself a glass of orange juice from the jug in the center of the island, but really, underneath, I’m glowing.

“You should wear glasses more often. Very Brazzers secretary of you. I approve.”

The sip of orange juice I just took hits the back of my throat at just the wrong time, and I closed-mouth cough into my fist, struggling to swallow. My wide eyes jump up to his, clocking his dazzling grin as he soaks in my reaction. My brain is galloping off with the tenuous link to Zeke watching porn. I’ve seen what those big hands look like fisted around his thick cock, and it’s something that will stay with me forever. My thighs squeeze together under the counter of their own accord, my heartbeat picking up a notch. He leans back in his chair, giving me a downright unfairly sizzling view of tattooed chest and chiseled abs. That little carved V of muscle disappearing into his black sweatpants will be the death of me.

“Now who is staring?” he drawls, drawing my attention back to his annoyingly beautiful face.