Page 22 of What the Hex
Too. Fucking. Cute.
“Damien is meeting with Oliver after this, and Priya is having dinner with her husband.”
King nodded sharply.
Tucking his fingers into the pocket of King’s jacket, he jerked him sideways, causing him to stumble into him.
“What the hell?” he demanded in a hissing whisper.
Storm wrapped an arm around his waist, preventing his escape, and leaned closer to nuzzle his temple. At the same time, he was careful not to cause his mate any further embarrassment. To onlookers, it would look like he was simply telling him something private.
“How about we cancel the reservation and order room service?”
King’s breath caught on a quiet gasp, and a visible shiver rippled through him. “If that’s what you want.”
“I want to spend time with you,” he clarified. They still needed to talk about this family drama situation, but he didn’t mention that. “What do you say?”
“O–Okay.”
“Is that a yes?” He knew the answer, but he would never tire of hearing it.
“Yes.” King sighed again, though this time it sounded more exasperated than annoyed.
In a surprising move, he turned his head and smacked a quick kiss to Storm’s cheek. Apparently, he’d surprised himself as well because his eyes rounded when he realized what he’d done, and his mouth fell open in a little O.
“Go on,” Storm told him with a chuckle. “You can hide backstage while I finish up here.”
He shook his head quickly. “No. I can stay.”
“Now, that dog don’t hunt.”
“Really, it’s not—what?”
It took him a minute to work out why King looked so confused, and when he did, he had to laugh at himself before translating. “Not a good idea.”
“Ah.” King arched an eyebrow, and one side of his mouth pulled up into a sexy smirk. “Careful, Tex. Your roots are showing.”
The slight purr in his voice wasn’t helping the situation going on in Storm’s jeans. “You like that, huh?”
King’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and Storm had to fight back a groan as he tracked the motion.
“I don’t hate it.”
Fuck, the guy was going to kill him. He was about three seconds away to saying the hell with the rest of the meet and dragging his mate up to his suite.
“Go.” He coughed to clear the gravel from his voice and gave him a push between his shoulders. “I’ll find you when I’m finished.”
If he survived that long.
Chapter seven
“You look better,” Arlo commented when King ducked behind the curtain.
“Thanks…I think.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened earlier?”
“Nothing happened.”