“How’d you two meet?” Derek asks.
Julian’s hand tightens on my knee. I take a deep breath before answering, “At Purgatory.”
“Purgatory, huh?” Mike nods, not pushing for details. “That place is legendary. Never been myself.”
“It’s... something else,” I say, relieved at how easily they accept this.
Derek grabs another nacho. “You know what we should do? Beat these college kids at pool. They’ve been hogging the table all night.”
Julian glances at the pool table. “I haven’t played in years.”
“Perfect,” Mike grins. “Neither has Elliot, so you guys can lose together.”
Julian laughs—a genuine laugh that transforms his face. I’ve never seen him like this, relaxed and unguarded outside his element.
As Derek challenges the college kids, Julian leans closer. “Your friends are surprisingly tolerable.”
“High praise coming from you,” I say, but I can’t help smiling.
His thigh presses against mine under the table, and his cologne—cedar, salty air and a subtle hint of… vanilla, maybe. Sweet but not feminine—fills my senses. My body instantly responds, blood rushing south with embarrassing predictability. Three days of being thoroughly claimed by this man have apparently rewired my system. Just his presence is enough.
“Are you alright?” Julian murmurs, noticing me shift in my seat. “You seem... uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, reaching for my beer to hide my face.
His hand slides higher on my leg, fingers tracing dangerous patterns along my inner thigh. “Are you sure about that?”
I nearly choke on my drink. “Julian,” I warn, glancing around to make sure no one notices.
His breath tickles my ear. “I like knowing I affect you this way.”
Mike returns with pool cues, totally oblivious to my predicament. “You guys ready to get destroyed?”
“Absolutely,” Julian says smoothly, removing his hand from my leg.
I stand awkwardly, tugging my shirt down as much as possible. The pressure against my zipper is becoming painful. Julian notices my discomfort and smirks, clearly enjoying my suffering.
As we walk to the pool table, Julian places his hand on the small of my back. Even that innocent touch makes my dick throb. What has this man done to me?
The night progresses with ease. Julian manages to hold his own at the pool table despite his claims of rustiness. I’m terrible, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t stop grinning at the sight of Julian Frost—the Julian Frost—leaning over a sticky bar table, trash-talking Derek about his shot.
“You call that aiming?” Julian arches an eyebrow as Derek misses. “I’ve seen better precision from drunk toddlers.”
Mike howls with laughter. “Man, your boyfriend’s savage, Elliot.”
I nearly choke at the wordboyfriend, but Julian doesn’t correct him. Instead, he catches my eye across the table with a look that makes heat spread through my chest.
“Another round?” the server asks.
“I’m good,” I say, checking my watch. It’s nearly midnight.
“I should be heading out too,” Julian says, setting down his pool cue. “Early meeting tomorrow.”
Mike gives me a not-so-subtle wink. “Yeah, it’s getting late. You guys should... get some rest.”
“Subtle, Mike,” Derek laughs, punching his arm.
We say our goodbyes outside the bar. Mike hugs me, whispering, “He seems cool. Different, but cool.”
