“Meaning, at the first hint that he was going to get out of line you were ready to rip him apart?”
He grunted an affirmative. “Nearly came out when he called you a bitch.”
“You do know I can handle myself, right?” I said, frowning up at him.
He just smirked at me. “Yeah, ’course. But now you don’t have to.”
I sighed, not minding it at all, if I was being honest. “So…can you believe all that?”
He rumbled a negative. “Not even close. I think he’s gotta be one of those…whaddya call ’em, psychopaths, or whatever. Like, the ones who don’t even really get the difference between right and wrong.”
“I think that’s a sociopath,” I said. “And I think you may be right. I just…it makes no sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He scooped me up in his arms, set me down on the table nearest the door. “Now kiss me, so we can both forget that crazy fuckhead.”
“Sounds good,” I murmured, but the words were lost as he kissed me, and I realized that, from the outside looking in, this thing I had with Sebastian might seem just as crazy, just as unlikely as what Michael had done with Tawny.
I only met him the other night but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Neither of us were claiming this was some kind of undying love, but we also both knew that was where it was going. How long would it take to get there? No way to know, and I didn’t really care. A month, a year, five years? As long as it was real, both of us all in and honest about what we had and what we wanted…that was all I needed. Well, that and…
“You gonna take me upstairs and fuck me or what?” I whispered.
He laughed. “Wild thing, we’ve fucked like eight times today.”
“So? I’m ready for number nine.” I cupped his hardening cock over his shorts. “And from the feel of it, so are you.”
“Yeah, always. But I got brothers you ain’t met yet.”
The door to the bar opened then, and Sebastian swiveled to put me behind him, but then when the figure stepped over the threshold and into the light, he immediately let me go.
“Lucian!” He took an eager step forward. “You’re here! Wasn’t expecting you for a while yet, from what I was hearing.”
Lucian Badd…dear god. Whatever magic had gone into the creation of these eight brothers hadn’t spared the beautiful gene. Lucian was—like the twins I’d only barely seen and the youngest brother, Xavier—tall and thin, rangy, corded with lean muscle, more of a razor than a burly bear. He had the same rich brown hair as the others, but his was so long I wondered if he’d ever cut it. It was bound low on his nape and hung to mid-spine. He had a bit of everyone’s features, the sharp nose, the strong jawline, the deep-set dark eyes, the perfect symmetry, but where even Brock, the most classically handsome of them all, was still handsome in that rugged, masculine way, Lucian was…
I struggled to put a word to it.
Ethereal. Otherworldly.
Something like that. All of the brothers I’d met were larger than life and could easily dominate a room with their loud, brash personalities, and the quieter ones like Brock were still fascinating, people you couldn’t ignore. But Lucian just…sucked you in.
It was hard to explain, honestly.
He was gorgeous, freakishly so. Sharp-featured, hard-eyed, tall, emanating a quiet strength. His presence was…unnerving, in a way. He hadn’t said a word, but his gaze was taking in me, Sebastian’s shirt on me, Sebastian’s protective posture, and he’d probably seen Michael outside with his bloody nose. Lucian’s gaze missed nothing.
Finally, Lucian stepped forward, slammed his arms around Sebastian. “Good to be home, Bast.”
“How’d you get here so fast? I thought you were in the Philippines?”
Lucian tilted one shoulder upward. “Red-eye from Honolulu.”
“Hawaii?” Sebastian asked.
A nod. “Some sick waves on the North Shore.”
“So were you ever in the Philippines?”
A shake of his head, ponytail bouncing. “Not for a while. A few months ago? Got the call from the lawyer in Honolulu. Been there a few weeks.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Never could pin you down. What were you doing in Hawaii?”
“Surfing. Fishing.” A sly wink. “And…fishing, na’mean, brah?” He held out his hand to me. “Lucian.”
I shook his hand, still trying to get a read on him. He was chill, quiet, and terse even, but I could see a whirling, dizzying depth boiling beneath his placid exterior. He just…gave away little of what he was thinking or feeling. But you just knew it was deep, and that he was seeing and hearing everything, missing nothing, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, if only because he was so hard to read.