He raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad you figured it out and it won’t be awkward if I can’t restrain myself and accidentally kiss you again.”
Ian laughed, his eyes bright with mirth, and—
Ugh, Miles kind of wanted to look into them forever.
Fuck, Ian was wrong that he had a bit of a crush on him. This didn’t feel like a goddamn crush. This felt so much worse.
“Try to restrain yourself,” Ian said, his half-lidded eyes laughing. “You know I’m straight.”
“Yeah, except when you put your prick into my mouth.”
Ian’s amusement disappeared. Cocking his head slightly, he studied Miles with an expression that could only be described as intense. It made Miles’s skin prickle.
He laid his hand on Miles’s neck, his thumb stroking his Adam’s apple.
Miles swallowed, his pulse skyrocketing. He felt caught in Ian’s eyes, unable to look away.
A small hand grabbing his jeans broke the moment. Miles dragged his gaze away from Ian’s and looked down at the small boy frowning up at them, looking confused and a little scared.
Miles quickly put on a smile. “Liam, it’s okay. We talked about it, didn’t we? Your dad and I are friends. He isn’t hurting me.”
Liam’s eyes flickered between his father and Miles.
“Miles is right,” Ian said, removing his hand from Miles’s neck. There was something disturbed in his gaze, but he clearly was trying not to look intimidating. “We’re friends. See?” He took Miles’s fingers into his hand and showed their clasped hands to Liam.
It would have been adorable if the touch wasn’t making Miles’s insides turn to jelly. He stared at Ian’s strong, long fingers intertwined with his slimmer ones and had to smother a stupid grin.
A crush. Right.
Exasperated with himself, Miles tried to smile encouragingly at Liam, but he suspected it didn’t look convincing, because all he wanted at the moment was to snog the boy’s father.
“Right,” he said, taking Liam’s hand with his free one. “Why don’t we all go have dinner?”
Liam looked between them before ducking his head and nodding shyly.
Counting this as a win, Miles chanced a glance at the boy’s father.
Ian had a grim look on his face. “Yes, let’s go,” he said before leaning in and murmuring into Miles’s ear. “I need to talk to you later.”
Miles just squeezed his hand in agreement before allowing Liam to tug him out of the room.
And if his ear was still tingling from Ian’s breath, well, no one had to know about it.
***
“Later” ended up being three hours later, after Liam was tucked into his bed.
“You wanted to talk to me?” Miles said, closing the door to Ian’s office.
Ian nodded without looking up from his laptop. “If Liam talks to you, could you ask him why he’s scared of me hurting you?”
Frowning, Miles walked over and leaned his hip against the desk by Ian’s chair. “I thought you said he was scared of you because you and his mother fought all the time?”
Ian lifted his gaze from the laptop and fixed him with a heavy look. “Yes, we fought a lot—verbally. I never physically hurt her. But today I got the impression that he was afraid of me physically hurting you. I want to know why.”
Miles chewed on his lip. “Do you think he saw someone hurt his mother?”
A deep furrow appeared between Ian’s brows. “Maybe. She had him for months before I got custody. It’s possible that he saw someone who looked like me beat her. The type of company she kept wasn’t exactly reputable.”
Miles hummed thoughtfully. It made sense. It would explain why Liam was so distrustful of his father. “Okay,” he said softly, reaching out to smooth the wrinkle between Ian’s brows with his thumb. “Don’t frown, you’ll get permanent wrinkles.”
Ian lifted his eyebrows, his grim expression replaced by one of amusement. He loosened his tie, watching Miles lazily, like a big, dangerous cat pondering whether it was in the mood for a snack or not.
“You should be less obvious,” Ian said, catching Miles’s fingers and studying them. “My own housekeeper just gave me a talking-to that I shouldn’t ‘cruelly encourage the poor boy’s crush.’ It was very intimidating.”
Miles chuckled, trying to act as though his face wasn’t burning. “What can I say? I’m very likable.”
Ian snorted, stroking his knuckles. “You are, or you would have been fired weeks ago.”
Miles grinned at him, their gazes locked. Christ, there was something about looking into Ian’s blue eyes that made their interactions intoxicating, his heart pounding, his fingers trembling, and his body on edge. He’d never felt so good with another person, comfortable with them to the point that all he wanted was to be closer to them. He wanted to fuse their personal spaces until they had just one for the two of them. He wanted his personal space to be Ian’s.
Fuck, his own thoughts and wants weirded Miles out. It felt as if he were drunk, his inhibitions non-existent, no matter what his brain tried to tell him. It felt like he could say anything to Ian, could ask anything from him.