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Dustin Barclay is a world-class asshole. I’m just about to tell him as much when a blur whizzes into my field of vision. Liam is beelining toward our table, his long strides eating up the space with a fervor. Like last time he was manic, my mind jumps to Ivy with a panicked concern until I catch the murderous glint in his dark hazel eyes. His intentions are evidently of a more nefarious nature.
Fuck.
When I saw him gaping at me back at the house, I knew this was a bad idea. He had a possessive slant to him, something that told me this could all go sideways. But I wanted him with me, so I kept my mouth shut.
His flutter-inducing compliment actually choked me up because I wished more than anything it was him taking me out tonight. But the butterflies and heat and exhilarating sparring will quickly serve to derail me. Liam is only interested in fucking me, and while I’m not at all opposed to that idea, I feel a churning of devastation brewing should I venture on that path. I need to remember my rules and, more importantly, my role. A responsibility my mother hammered home on the ride here.
Liam glides into the booth in a fluid sweep, his arm perched behind me and his sexy dimple making a rare appearance. He kisses my temple. “Hi, baby. Sorry I’m late.”
What in the ever-loving hell is he doing? Baby?
Before I can ask, he reaches his arm out across the table to Dustin. “Liam Graves.”
“Hello,” Dustin says, utterly bemused as he shakes Liam’s hand. “Dustin Barclay. Why is it that you’re here?”
“Yes,” I hiss, crossing my arms. “Please share.”
Liam winks at me, dapper in his black suit. Although I love the hint of ink on his biceps that peeks out of his sleeves when he wears a T-shirt. Really, he kills it in anything. And surely nothing. Most especially when he has that menacing glimmer in his gaze.
He turns back to my pathetic date. “Good question, Dusty.”
“Dustin,” an irritated Mr. Barclay corrects, and I center myself to swallow the laughter.
“Right.” Liam waves a doesn’t-matter hand, spreading out in the booth in that larger-than-life way of his, where he consumes the expanse of every available molecule. “As you can see, Celeste here is the full package—gorgeous, smart, passionate, funny. And clever. She’s far more clever than people realize. So, obviously, she requires the type of care and stimulation that”—he gestures to Dustin—“a man like you couldn’t possibly provide. And since I’ll be the one satisfying her, it seemed only fitting that I be part of the negotiations.” He scoops a fork into my barely eaten cheesecake, serving himself a bite with a contented moan.
I’m going to fucking kill him. Slow and painful.
Dustin’s brows scrunch together, soaking in the whole bizarre scene. “This is highly unusual. Certainly not something I’ve ever considered.”
“Not unusual,” Liam volleys. “I assure you, any woman you choose will have a sidepiece as a matter of survival. We’re just being up-front about it.” He sips my cabernet with a twinkle set on me, washing down his dessert.
This is like spotting a train car bent in half, gore and mayhem running wild in the woods. Bodies strewn all over the tracks. I’m aghast and speechless. Except for a squeak that leaps from my lungs.
Liam catches it and taps my nose with a ray of adoration.
Oddly, Dustin seems to be mulling this absurdity over, finally settling on me again. “If I permit this, will you be more amenable to the minority angle?”
Is this guy fucking serious?
My eyes bulge out of my skull. No sense in bothering with pretense at this point. “I’ll tell you exactly what I’m amenable to—”
“Actually, I’ll tell him, Ace.” Liam’s hand grips my leg, pinkie dusting my inner thigh under my skirt, securing the distracted nature from me he was aiming for. He seizes the opening. “Let me lay it out for you, Dusty. This is how it’s going to work, whether or not you fucking approve of this. Celeste is a brilliant prize that you will never ride the coattails of. You will never hold her. Touch her. Taste her. A tragedy of epic proportions for you.”
He brings his hand to his chest, the black diamond-encrusted ring on his index finger gleaming like a warning. “Me, on the other hand? I’m going to treat her like the queen she is. Starting tonight, when I whisk her away from here, shuttle her back to my place, and fuck her so thoroughly, she feels it for days, maybe weeks. And one day soon”—his fingers crawl further up my thigh, nearly caressing the promised land—“I’m going to bring her back to this very booth and make her come so hard that she forgets any recollection of this night, this god-awful date, and your boring-as-fuck face. In fact, I’ll have her seeing so many goddamn stars, she’ll forget any other men exist—especially narcissistic motherfuckers like you.”
My chest deflates with a whoosh as Dustin’s face pales and sweat beads on his upper lip. I suspect he’s realizing he’s in the presence of someone truly unhinged. It’s sobering, to say the least.
This is spiraling quickly. My grandfather is going to lose it. I need to intervene, but I’m somehow rooted to this seat, infuriated and captivated in one fell swoop. No idea what to do.
Liam twirls my fork like a composer and raids the dessert again, swallowing the cheesecake with another subsequent moan. “That really is good.”
“I’m going to murder you,” I whisper against his ear, clasping my hand over his wandering one.
He clutches my chin, silencing me with a quick cherry-cheese kiss that ends with a groaning nibble, showering tingles down my spine and arms and heaving chest. “Thanks, baby girl. That is an excellent point.”
The homicidal edge to Liam’s face as he turns back to Dustin is rendering me dizzy.
He stretches across the table so that he’s effectively devouring the space between my date and him, and my heart thrashes violently in my dry throat. “Here’s the really important part in this approach,” he grits out. “If you share one single detail regarding this evening, utter anything other than glowing praise about my girl, or come within one hundred miles of her, even on your campaign trail, I’ll cut out your bigoted tongue and shove it down your throat so you choke, vomit, and piss yourself through a slow bleed-out to your death.”
