Devil's Kiss (Sunset Cove #2) (35 page)

“Oh, J! My sweet boy. Where are you?”

“Jordan? Who the—” Derek didn’t get to finish his question because Jordan’s bedroom door was flung open, and standing in the massive doorway with a wide-brimmed hat and a set of glasses in hand was a woman who looked as though she’d stepped off an
Italian Vogue
cover.

From her black skyscraper heels, to the snug fit of her cream pencil skirt and fitted black blouse, she appeared elegant and sophisticated. Her mahogany hair was swept off her face and pinned to the top of her head, and around her neck was a cream-colored scarf. She looked as though she was worth a million dollars.

As her dark eyes took in the scene before her—Derek standing by the side of an unmade bed in only his shorts and Jordan wrapped in a robe with his hair every which way—she headed across the room with her arms outstretched to the man who, less than an hour ago, had fucked Derek as though his life depended on it.

“There’s my sweet boy. Come give your mother a hug.”

* * *

JORDAN LOOKED PAST his mother’s shoulder to where Derek was now pulling his shirt down, and wished that he could see his face.

What is he thinking?

“Mother,” Jordan finally managed, and pulled out of his mom’s arms. “I didn’t realize when you called the other day that you meant you would be stopping in
this
week.”

“Well, your father had to come back for some boring business meeting,” she said with a flick of her gloved wrist, and then leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “And I needed to speak with you. But more importantly, aren’t you going to introduce me to the young man standing beside your bed, dear?”

Jordan shook his head and then stepped around her. He loved his mother more than he could put into words, but he knew for some she was more to take than other moms.
 

He was about to check on Derek when he heard a cough from behind his mother, and she turned so she was standing beside him and they were both staring at a widely smiling Derek.
 

“Yeah, Jordan. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Oh, okay. So
that’s
how this is going to go, is it?
Raising an eyebrow at Derek, he accepted the challenge, and gestured from his mother back to the smug man grinning at him.

“Mother, I’d like you to meet Derek.”

As she flashed a smile, which Jordan knew was identical to his own, in Derek’s direction, he continued.
 

“He was formerly a student of mine and also lived here at the Palisades for a year or so somewhere in there. Now, don’t be all scandalized—back then it was in separate bedrooms, of course.” He paused and placed his hand on his mother’s arm, and when she looked down at him he thought,
Hell, if ever there’s been a time to say it out loud.
“But just recently, he told me in no uncertain terms that he loved me madly and would no longer just let me use him for his body. Luckily for him…” Jordan let his eyes slide to Derek, who was staring at him with his mouth agape until he winked at him, then Derek glared. “I feel exactly the same way.”

The room plunged into silence after his monologue, and as he kept his eyes locked with Derek’s, his mother was the one to break through the quiet.

“Well, that’s quite a story. But I’m positive there’s more to it than that. I’m going to go and freshen up and rummage through your wine fridge, J. I’ll meet you boys out on the balcony when you’re ready.” She was about to walk out, but at the last second turned back to Derek and said, “Good for you. He needs someone with a firm hand. And you sure have the muscles for it.”

“
Mother
.”

“Okay.” She laughed and gave a waggle of her fingers as she turned and headed back toward the door.

When they were alone, Jordan rounded back to Derek and noted the furrowed brow still firmly in place.
 

“Before you get all mad,” Jordan began, and raised his palm. Derek walked forward, backing him up across the room, as was Derek’s way. “My mother is under no illusions as to who her son is. So if I’d tried to pretend you were in here looking at my clothing selection, she never would’ve—” His back hit the wall and he let out a soft “
oomph
” as Derek placed a palm on either side of his head.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Umm…” Jordan floundered for a second. Derek’s intense gaze had him unnerved. “You’re not?”

Derek lowered his mouth to his and whispered, “Nope.”

“Oh,” Jordan sighed.

“Mhmm,” Derek agreed, and then sucked Jordan’s bottom lip into his mouth as he trailed the back of his fingers along his neck and between the lapels of his robe. When his fingers then moved to the knotted belt at Jordan’s waist, Derek slipped them behind the loop and tugged him forward from the wall. He pressed a sweet kiss to Jordan’s mouth that had him reaching for his arms to keep himself from sliding down to the floor, and then Derek raised his head and
winked
at him.
 

“You love me.”

“Huh?” was Jordan’s intelligent answer.

Derek backed away, and as he did, he started doing some stupid little dance with his hands and shoulders that made Jordan snort. Then Derek pointed at him and said, “
You
love
me
.”

“And that makes you what…ridiculous?”

Derek nodded as he continued, making his way backward toward the door of the bedroom. “It makes me ridiculously happy. Now put some clothes on. For God’s sake, Jordan, anyone would think you spent the last couple of hours having hot sex.”

As Derek disappeared, Jordan caught sight of himself in the mirror on the door of his walk-in closet and barely recognized the sap smiling back at him. Derek Pearson had him standing there with hearts in his eyes wanting to twirl around his fucking bedroom, and as he pushed off the wall to get ready for his guy, he couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped free.

He’d known from the very beginning that man was going to be trouble, and hell if he hadn’t been spot on with that assessment.

* * *
 

“SO TELL ME about Jordan, the boy.”

It was easy to see where Jordan got his love of life from as Gabrielle Devaney tipped her head back and laughed joyously. Derek and Jordan were seated opposite his mother, and they were well into their second bottle of wine as they enjoyed the fire pit and comfy couches out on Jordan’s balcony.

Jordan had pulled on some faded jeans with holes all over the place, a gray crew-neck T-shirt, and a navy-blue beanie that was sitting halfway off the back of his head, and he looked fucking hot.
 

Derek knew that Jordan would’ve meticulously picked out his look. But as Jordan tucked his feet up under him and leaned into his side, Derek had never appreciated his eye for details more.
 

“Let me see. Jordan as a boy…” Gabrielle aimed twinkling eyes at her son, and Jordan angled his glass toward her.
 

“Be nice.”

“Why should I be nice? You never are. And Derek here already knows you…”

Jordan took a sip of wine and then looked back over his shoulder at Derek. “Oh, I suppose you’re right. No use trying to lie now. Have at it.”

His mother grinned at him and then aimed her eyes over at Derek. “He was too smart for his own good. Always getting into trouble—”

“I was not—”

“Always
butting in
with an opinion of his own when people were trying to tell him things. Running with the wrong kinds of boys. You know, the bad ones.”

“Imagine that,” Derek said, and reached for his wine glass on the table and took a sip.

“Excuse me,” Jordan interjected. “I happen to remember another student who tried the badass routine all the time. He tried to get thrown out of my class.
Twice
.”

“We’re not talking about him, Jordan. So stop trying to distract us and drink your wine.”

“You do realize that I’m not five anymore, right?”

“Were you ever five?” his mother asked.

“Good point.”

Gabrielle winked at her son, and Derek saw Jordan in every nuance of that expression as she continued.

“I’m sure you know by now how wonderful Jordan is. His father and I couldn’t be more proud of him. Bachelor’s degree at age fourteen, PhD by twenty-one, and then a university professor to top it all off. Parents couldn’t want, or ask, for more of their child. And while the public kept a close eye on him during his
wilder
years, they backed off as he got older. His history professor really helped him to focus his energy and stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Well, the narrow, anyway,” Jordan added with a laugh.

“One thing, though, that the press will never tell you is what a wonderfully generous person he is. He doesn’t even like to advertise it.”

“Mom, you don’t have to convince him I’m more than just a pretty face. He is aware.”

“I know. But you should be proud of these things, dear. Especially this recent charity you’ve been working on getting up and running for abused and neglected children. The Pearson Project.”
 

As soon as the words left her mouth, Derek stiffened where he sat.

No…there’s no way she just said what I think she did. Did she?
 

Derek felt the red-hot burn of embarrassment race up his neck as he stared across at the elegant woman watching him.
 

Surely he’d misunderstood what she’d just said, because if not, that meant this woman…this sophisticated, worldly woman, who happened to be Jordan’s mother, knew all about his appalling past.
 

Fuck.
He felt like he was going to vomit. His stomach turned and his palms grew clammy as he looked between mother and son.

How much did she know? What had Jordan told her?

That his father beat him, that he was the town drunk, that he’d mooched off Jordan just so he wouldn’t have to live in some fucking dive throughout college?
 

Jesus,
how fucking mortifying?
 

It was bad enough that he was coming into this relationship with Jordan at a disadvantage—the money, the condo, hell…even the brains.
But now this?
What was Jordan thinking spilling all his problems to his mother? To the public?

There was a reason he kept his shit private. He didn’t want to be some fucking role model or platform for people to look at and think,
Oh, he’s come a long way. No.
He just wanted to be left the fuck alone and forget about the miserable family that spawned him.
 

Tonight, however, that would not be happening, because without any doing of his own his personal life was now up for fucking discussion.

All other words Gabrielle Devaney was saying faded as
the Pearson Project
continued on a loop in his head—

“Derek?”

He’d completely missed whatever she’d just asked him, and Jordan had sat up and was looking at him with caution in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to speak, to explain away whatever the fuck had just happened here, but Derek was already shifting out of his spot and getting to his feet.

“Derek, wait.” That was Jordan. His voice was familiar, but still, the only words Derek focused on were: Abuse. Children. Neglect.
The Pearson Project.
 

“I’ve got to go,” he mumbled, and turned like a robot and headed back inside, away from the two watching him.

As he passed by the dining room table, he put his unfinished glass of wine down and continued through the penthouse like a man in a daze. When he was halfway through the living room and making his way toward the elevator, he heard Jordan call out to him again.

“Derek. Derek, wait. I was going to tell you.”

He’d been hoping he would escape before Jordan made an excuse to his mother, because the emotion that was now bubbling up inside Derek, past the shock, past the hurt, was embarrassment and anger.
 

How dare he do this…
 

“Derek.”

When the door to the elevator opened, Derek stepped inside, jabbed the button, and then turned to face the man opposite him. Jordan looked as though his entire world was being ripped away from him, but Derek didn’t have any words to tell him otherwise.
 

As it was, he was barely holding on himself, because for the first time since he’d met Jordan, he was the last person Derek wanted to see.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

JORDAN STOOD AT Brantley’s front door the next evening with a cooler full of wine in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

It was Saturday night and he’d been trying to get a hold of Derek without any success ever since he’d left his place. He must’ve called half a dozen times, left voice messages, and finally texts, and what had he received in return? Radio silence.
 

This dinner party was the last thing he wanted to do tonight, but he’d figured if he felt compelled to show up and make an appearance then maybe Derek would too. It was wishful thinking, he knew that, but he figured turning up at Derek’s place would likely result in a door in his face, so he would try his luck here first, and then go and beat down a door if necessary.

He raised his hand to knock, heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and turned to,
thank you, God
, see Derek, who’d stopped halfway up the deck that wrapped around Brantley’s beach house.

Jordan’s breath caught at the sight of him. Other than tired eyes, which Jordan knew would match his own, Derek looked perfect. But the closed-off expression on his face told Jordan not to come any closer.
 

He was wearing black jeans and a tailored army-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his beautifully tattooed arms. His nails were painted their signature black and he was wearing his favored boots, buckled but not laced. The entire getup was a “back off” signal. It was rife with attitude, and the arms crossed over his chest were a fuck off if ever Jordan had seen one. But he was determined to say something before they were faced with Brantley and Daniel and a dinner that would more than likely be awkward as hell.