Page 218
Chapter 218 of "Tempting Venom" kicks off with thrilling moments: Fighting my demons, sure thing, Dad. Love the gaslighting, makes me feel all the fatherly... Read more!
Fighting my demons, sure thing, Dad. Love the gaslighting, makes me feel all the fatherly love.
Preston, can you drop the sass and talk like a normal human being?
Sorry, I canāt speak robot. Do they offer classes in your native language?
And another.
Dad
Stop skipping your appointments with your doctor. You need consistency.
You picking a fight or something? I DO go to therapy. I literallywent today.
Where?
The doctorās living room. She made tea. We talked about boundaries and daddy issues.
Which āsheā are you talking about?
Wow, you sound just like her. Are you two in cahoots or something?
The last conversation, earlier today, leaves me gripping the phone tighter, my fingers halting in his hair.
Dad
Youāre not yourself lately.
Havenāt been myself my entire life, Dad. Thanks for noticing, though. Better late than never.
If something is wrong, I need to know.
Bold of you to assume I know what āwrongā feels like.
What does that mean?
Relax. Dr. Fenwick explained it to me. Apparently, Iām āmalfunctioning.ā Julian mustāve told you, no? Displaying signs of psychosis and all that crazy-people bullshit I wonāt bore you with. Might get rid of me sooner than you think. Congrats, Dad. Arenāt I a good son? Finally, am I right?
This is not funny.
Never said it was. Just mentioned it was happening. You know like what happened when I was a kid. Shit just happens, and I canāt stop it.
That was not your fault, son. You know that, right?
Why are you calling me son? Itās creeping me out. Literal chills and not the good kind.
You are my son.
But I wasnāt your son when I needed you the most, when Mom needed you the most, and now, I just donāt need youanymore, Dad.
A low grunt against my neck pulls my attention from his phone, and I exit the texts and throw it against the pillow where he left it.
Prestonās arms are still wrapped securely around me as he pulls back to stare at me.
And fuck. He looks so beautifully boyish with his bedhead and sleepy face. Thereās a softness to him Iāve never witnessed before, something so delicate and barely stitched together that I want to protect.
āWhat time is it?ā The rumble of his hoarse, sleepy voice goes straight to my dick.
Heās a very simple dickāhe hears or feels Preston, and heās ready to roll.