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Lover At Last(158)

By:J. R. WARD


“I owe you…everything.”

For some reason, that hurt. Maybe because after years of trying to give himself to the guy, the gratitude was finally earned by helping him have a kid with someone else.

“Whatever, you’d have done the same for me,” he said roughly.

And yet even as he put that out there, he wasn’t sure. If someone attacked him? Well, sure, of course Qhuinn would back him up. But then again, the tough-edged SOB loved to fight and was a natural hero—that wasn’t anything about Blay.

Perhaps that was the point of this emptiness. Everything had always been on Qhuinn’s terms. The friendship. The distance. Even the sex.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Qhuinn asked.

“Like how.”

“As if I’m a stranger.”

Blay rubbed his face. “Sorry. Just been a long night.”

There was a long, tense moment, during which all he could feel was Qhuinn’s stare.

“I’ll go,” the fighter said after a pause. “I guess I just wanted…yeah. Anyhow.”

The sounds of shitkickers headed for the exit had Blay cursing—

The knock on the door was a single one and very loud: a Brother.

Rhage’s voice cut easily through the panels. “Blay? Tohr’s called a meeting to go over tomorrow night’s territory. You know where Qhuinn is?”

Blay looked across his room at the guy. “No, I don’t.”



Oh, for fuck’s sake, Qhuinn thought at the interruption. Although in reality, the conversation was over, wasn’t it.

The good news was that at least Rhage didn’t come in. No doubt Blay would prefer the pair of them not got caught hanging in his room.

Hollywood wrapped things up with, “If you see him, let him know if he wants to attend we’re convening in five. Totally understand if he’d rather stay with Layla.”

“Roger that,” Blay said in a dead voice.

As Rhage went next door and knocked on Z’s door, Qhuinn rubbed his face. He had no idea what had gone through Blay’s mind just now, but the way those blue eyes had stared at him had made him feel as if a ghost had passed over his grave.

Then again, what did he expect? He barged into the room that the guy shared with Saxton, pulled a major liplock, and then got all mushy over the Payne thing….This was Saxton space. Not Qhuinn space.

He had a habit of taking things over, though, didn’t he.

“I won’t come in here again,” Qhuinn said, trying to make some kind of amends. “I just wanted you to know that…I owe you so much.”

Qhuinn went over to the door and leaned in, listening for Rhage’s voice, closing his eyes, waiting for the hall of statues to be clear.

Jesus, he could be a selfish prick sometimes; he really could—

“Qhuinn.”

His body turned on a dime, sure as if Blay’s voice was a ripcord that yanked him around. “Yeah?”

The male walked forward. When they were eye-to-eye, Blay said, “I still want to fuck you.”

Qhuinn’s brows popped so high, they nearly landed on the carpet. And instantly, he went hard.

The only trouble was, Blay didn’t seem happy about the reveal. But why would he be? He wasn’t the kind of male who could two-time someone easily—although clearly Saxton’s lack of monogamy had cured him of being faithful.

Kind of made Qhuinn want to strangle his cousin again. And the only thing that stopped him from going and finding the slut was that in this case, the situation worked for Qhuinn.

“I want to be with you, too,” he said.

“I’ll come to your room after dawn.”

Qhuinn didn’t want to ask. Had to. “What about Saxton?”

“He’s gone on vacation.”

Reaaaaaaaaaaaaaally. “For how long?”

“Just a couple of days.”

Too bad. Any chance of an extension…for like a year or two? Maybe forever?

“Okay, it’s a—” Qhuinn stopped himself before he finished that with date.

There was no sense kidding himself. Saxton was away. Blay wanted to get laid. And Qhuinn was more than willing to supply the male with what he wanted.

That construct was not a date. But fuck it.

“Come to me,” he said in a growl. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Blay nodded, like they’d made a pact, and then he was the one who left first, his body shifting with aggression as he walked by and went through the door.

Qhuinn watched the guy go. Stayed behind. Nearly shut himself in just so he could pull himself together.

Suddenly, he was fucked in the head, in spite of the promise that they’d be hooking up in a matter of hours: That expression on Blay’s face haunted him, to the point where his chest started to ache. Shit, maybe this current series of hookups was just a further evolution of the bad spots they’d been in before, a new facet of their collective unhappiness.