His Mafia Prince
Chapter 202: Maybe We Should Love Or We Should Learn

Chapter 202: Maybe We Should Love Or We Should Learn

(WESLEY)

Dusk sets in and the room is dark except for the nightstand. I hear the sound of the shower running. It must be Jericho. I glance at the clock on the side table. It is 7:25 pm. That means that Jericho didn’t stay out all night partying like he told me he would. I smile wryly. That means that he didn’t stay out with another omega. Then it occurs to me that maybe he is taking a shower because he slept with another omega.

Fuck.

My heart sinks when I remember that I have no claim over Jericho. Even though we aren’t together-together, I still find the idea that he might want another omega gut wrenching. If he left me here naked, primed up and willing, only to go out there to find another omega to fuck, it would hurt. Like hell.

I begin to roll over but then I groan, because my hands are still cuffed to the headboard. They’ve been stuck in the cuffs since Jericho left and my arms hurt like hell. The bathroom door slides open and Jericho walks out in a cloud of steam. The bathroom light illuminates his naked figure, making my dick twitch with interest even though my arms hurt.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches me from the bathroom doorway as he towels off his shoulders. He lowers the towel, walks over and stands at the foot of the bed. Our gazes meet and I slowly run my gaze over his naked frame. I can’t help myself. He is so fucking sexy, and I want him so badly, even though I’m still mad at him for cuffing me.

Quit being pathetic.

I have to stop myself from lusting for him. Especially after what he did to me. So, I lift my head and say, "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, so much fun." I notice he slurs slightly and he doesn’t sound like he actually had fun. He sounds sort of glum.

"Are you drunk?" I frown.

"No." he scoffs.

"Well. You sound drunk." I glance up at my still cuffed hands. "Could you please uncuff me now, my arms are killing me."

He comes round the bed then leans down. I can smell the scent of the hotel body wash on him, plus the scent of his warm skin. Little droplets of water from his hair hit my cheek. "Hey," he says nonchalantly. "You didn’t eat any of the apples that I brought you."

"I didn’t."

"But you said you were hungry." He says in an accusing tone. "I ordered food because you said you were hungry."

"I never said I was."

"You said you were hungry, back when we were driving." He wrinkles his brow and mutters something that I can barely hear.

"I guess being in cuffs took away my appetite." I say gruffly. "Can you please just uncuff me?"

He leaves me then returns a few seconds later with the key. He wiggles it until whatever mechanism in the lock releases. I then lower my arms, groaning and wincing. He looks at me with a guilty expression on his face, but when he notices that I am watching him too, he moves away from me. I watch him go, feeling annoyed that he is too prideful to admit that he wronged me and apologize for how he is treating me. Then again, I’m distracted by his firm ass.

I sit up, rub my wrists then crawl off the bed. I pick up my jeans and head to the bathroom where Jericho is now brushing his teeth. He has a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Where did you get a toothbrush?" I ask, envious that he gets to brush his teeth and I don’t.

"Front desk." He says. "I got you one too." He says, pointing towards a little yellow toothbrush wrapped in cellophane. "They were complimentary."

I smile, happy that he thought of getting a toothbrush for me too. Even though a toothbrush is a foolish thing to care about, I’m glad that he still thought of me. "Can I take a shower?"

"Knock yourself out." He says, watching me in the mirror.

I begin to undo my jeans but then I hesitate. "I’ll wait until you’re out of here." I murmur as I grab a towel from the rack over the toilet.

He snorts. "What, are you shy? I just saw you naked, Wes. Get in the shower." His speech still slurs a little. I suspect that he must have had a lot to drink when he left me. He can walk perfectly, but his speech is selling him out.

"I said I’ll wait."

He glances at me, shakes his head then spits into the sink. He then rinses his mouth and steps out of the bathroom.

I lock the door and get out of my jeans. I then turn the shower on. Once the water is warm enough, I step into the shower and wash thoroughly, annoyed that I have a boner the entire time. I can’t be near Jericho and not have a boner. Even with him in the other room, just the mere thought of him makes my dick stiff. Also, unless he is sleeping on the couch by the window, or he takes it, we will have to share the bed. Thinking of his body just a few feet from mine makes me wince. This is going to be one torturous night.

Once I’m done showering, I pat myself dry then slip back into my jeans. I brush my teeth then leave the steamy bathroom. Jericho is lying on the bed, reclined and watching TV. He is wearing just his black briefs, lying on the side that is nearest to the bed stand. So, I get on the bed then take the other side. He holds his leg up and rests his foot against my chest.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Getting in bed." I say, looking at the foot that’s resting on my chest with a frown on my face.

"Not in those jeans. They are dirty. I don’t want you getting the sheets filthy with your outside germs."

I laugh. "Who are you? Clean freak?"

His brows knit. "If you want to sleep in your jeans, then you’re gonna have to take the couch or sleep on the floor." He gets his foot off me and gives me a challenging look. "That’s the rule."

"Oh, the rule? Says who?"

"Says me. Jericho. Adonis. The esteemed." He smirks.

I don’t know how I can keep being mad at him because he is so fucking sexy. His boxer briefs outline every nook and cranny of his long, thick beautiful cock. The way his abs sink in the hem of those boxers? Smooth and defined. His sexiness is out of this world. That was the very reason why I didn’t want to sleep in my underwear. Because if I get a boner, he will see it.

Then again, I don’t want to sleep on the floor.

"Fine." I groan as I unzip my jeans. I feel too self-conscious because he is watching me as I undress. When I glance up, I notice the heat in his eyes, but he quickly bats them away. Once I’m out of my jeans, I slip into my white briefs then I get on the bed and quickly slide under the covers.

Jericho lowers the volume of the TV, which I find surprisingly considerate of him. I wouldn’t have thought he had that kind of consideration in him, especially after he left me cuffed to the headboard for hours. I lie on my side, facing away from him, but I can feel his stare at the back of my head. Little goosebumps rise on my flesh. I have to fight the urge to scoot over close to his warm body. I want to tuck myself against his frame.

"So, have you come to a decision?"

"About what?" he mutes the TV.

"You said you were trying to decide on what to do with me. Did you mull over that when you were out drinking?"

I turn over and face him. The light is still on by the side of the bed. Our eyes meet and he surprises me when he reaches out a finger and traces one of the red marks on my wrist that I got from the cuffs. I shiver, because the slightest contact with him gets to me.

"They don’t hurt, really." I say.

"Okay, good." He purses, and a flush of guilt shifts through his eyes then disappears as quickly as it appeared. "I mean, not that I really care if the cuffs hurt you or something."

"Jericho, stop pretending like you don’t give a fuck about me. I know you care." His fingers still linger on my skin as I hold his gaze. "It’s fine if you tell me how you feel. I know that I hurt you, just tell me how to make it better. I want to."

He shakes his head. "Not possible."

"Yes, it is." I say quietly. "Talking will make it better, Jericho."

"How? You will still be the son of Peter Sawyer and you’ll still be a liar."

I sigh heavily. "I left the family, Jericho. You need to remember that. I left them because I hated them for the horrible people they are. Please, I just wanted to start afresh. You know I’m not like them? Why are you pretending like I’m the same?"

"I don’t know that."

"Yes, you do." I squint at him. "Have I ever done anything remotely violent around you? I mean, the other day in the park, but that was to protect you. not to hurt you."

He pulls back his hand. "So, why did you try to seduce me earlier?" a line forms between his dark brows, and he genuinely looks confused.

"You know why, Jericho." I hoist myself on my elbow. "I want you. I always have ever since I met you."

He blinks at me as though he doesn’t believe a word I say. "Was I just there?"

"What?" I frown.

"Is that what you do, Wesley? You don’t want to be alone, so you pick the next available alpha who watches out for you? Someone like me or Justin? Is it just whoever ends up being the chosen one?"

"That’s unfair, Jericho." I scowl. "You know that I’m not like that. I hadn’t been with anyone for quite a long time before I met you. And I never back bonded with anyone, even Justin. You were different. You were...uhm, special."

"Don’t tell me that, Wesley."

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