บททั้งหมดของ THE PASTOR'S SON'S DIRTY LITTLE SECRECT : บทที่ 211 - บทที่ 220

*Chapter 207*Leon came home with the taste of strawberry ice cream still faint on his tongue and Aaron’s question sitting warm and terrifying in the center of his chest.*Be my boyfriend.*He had not said yes. He had not said no. Sitting at that sticky picnic table under the crooked umbrella, heart slamming against his ribs, he had managed only a quiet, honest, “I need to think about it.” Aaron had nodded once, like he had expected exactly that answer, reached across the table, and squeezed Leon’s hand—firm, patient, certain—before driving him the rest of the way home in a silence that felt comfortable instead of heavy. The ridiculous blue sunglasses were still tucked in the side pocket of his backpack. The fresh bruise Aaron had left on his neck pulsed gently under the collar he kept adjusted. The entire afternoon of deliberate lightness—the race, the skipped stones, the ducks, the way Aaron had wiped ice cream from his mouth with his thumb—still glowed under his skin like a private

*Chapter 208*Leon’s back hit the mattress harder than he expected.Aaron was already over him, knees bracketing his hips, mouth hot and open against his throat. The attic room around them felt larger than usual, the slanted ceiling higher, the air thicker. Leon’s shirt was gone. He didn’t remember taking it off. Aaron’s hands were everywhere—pushing his wrists down into the sheets, sliding under the waistband of his sweatpants, gripping his cock with the same confident pressure he had used in the car. Leon arched into the touch, a broken sound leaving his throat. Aaron answered by biting down on the side of his neck, right over the bruise he had left earlier, and stroking him in long, tight pulls that made Leon’s thighs fall open without resistance.“Missed this,” Aaron muttered against his skin. “Missed you like this.”Leon tried to answer, but Aaron’s mouth covered his before the words formed. The kiss was deep and wet and slightly desperate, the kind that tasted like the strawberr

*Chapter 210*Leon moved through the morning like someone trying not to wake a fragile truce.He showered longer than necessary, letting the hot water beat against the back of his neck where the bruises still sat tender under the skin. The dream clung to him even under the spray—the paralysis, the neon lights, Aaron walking away while he lay frozen and silent. He scrubbed until his skin felt raw, as if he could wash the residual panic down the drain along with the sweat. When he stepped out and wiped the mirror clear, the face that looked back still carried the slightly haunted edge of someone who had spent the night unable to move while the person he wanted left him behind.He chose his clothes with extra care.A dark crew-neck with a collar that sat high enough to hide most of the marks. The same zip-up hoodie from the day before, zipped higher than usual. Jeans that felt ordinary. Everything selected to make him look like the careful version of himself the school expected, the vers

Chapter 212The Hunt BeginsLeon read the thread twice before the words stopped swimming.YIt wasn't just the title. Underneath it, the replies stacked up in a hungry, breathless rush. Someone claimed to have a list of every student who'd ever accessed the forum from the school network. Someone else said they'd matched the writer's phrasing to an old English essay. A third user, anonymous, simply wrote: *He's closer than we think.*Closer.The corridor suddenly felt too narrow. Leon's fingers found the zipper of his hoodie and dragged it up to his chin, though it was already as high as it could go.“Hey.” Aaron's hand closed gently around his wrist. “Look at me, not the screen.”“They're going to find me.”“They're guessing.”“Monday, Aaron. It says Monday.”“It says a lot of things.” Aaron slid the phone back into his pocket, and the cold edge in his face stayed, but his voice stayed even. “Half of that is bluffing. Nobody posts a deadline unless they're short on proof. They want th

Chapter 214 Nothing to FindLeon told him the password.It was the only thing his mouth could do. Eighteen years of habit moved the words before his mind could catch up, and they dropped into the quiet dining room one letter at a time, like stones into deep water.His father typed it in. The screen blinked, then opened.Leon stopped breathing.The desktop was bare. The wallpaper was the same plain gray one he'd always used. The dock held a browser, a word processor, a folder labeled *School*. There was no hidden directory. No drafts. No document called *Chapter* anything.Matthias Carter leaned forward and began to click.Leon stood perfectly still while his father opened every folder, scrolled through every file name, and checked the browser history with the slow, methodical care of a man searching a church for a missing candlestick. He found essays. A half-finished chemistry report. A scanned permission slip. A playlist of quiet piano music.Nothing else.“Where are the rest of you