Sebastian let out a surprised huff. “Mira, loco, you spent all day getting knocked down by my magic, and if you get me drunk, I might do it again.”
“Sounds like a perfect chaser to me.”
Was Sebastian actually considering this? Could he even remember the last time he had shared a table and a relaxing moment with someone he liked? “I thought we came back because you had business.”
“Good whiskey is business.” Lord Fine tapped the bottle again. “What’s wrong? Afraid to show me you’re a lightweight?”
If you have a drink, you might actually sleep. You might get through tonight without waking Lord Fine again. Because if you wake, and he’s there in the same bed, and your body is still out of your control and moves for him the way it wants...
Sebastian worried his lower lip between his teeth. “I’ve only ever done it around other paranormals, where we wanted my magic to weaken theirs anyway. I’ve never had a drink around someone without magic.”
Lord Fine popped the cork out of the whiskey bottle. “Then I’d say it’s high time one of us poured you one.”
Chapter Eleven
Wesley swirled the second shot of whiskey in his glass. They’d put a kerosene lamp on the table. A deck of cards was between them, but they hadn’t played, alongside a box of cigars that Wesley hadn’t smoked.
He’d shed his jacket, while Sebastian had undone his collar, his tie now hanging loose around his neck. Sebastian still wore the waistcoat that hugged his torso, paired now with rolled-up sleeves that revealed the lion tattoo and the taut muscles of his forearms. His skin had a golden hue in the firelight, the beginnings of shadow on his jaw as he tipped back the rest of his second shot of whiskey.
Wesley wanted to reach across the table and yank him into a kiss.
He swirled the whiskey again instead.
A bit of flirting was one thing, kissing Sebastian quite another. Wesley would eat his hat before he’d believe that Sebastian would react with violence, or call the papers or police the way some men might. But better to be cautious and give them both an easy path to walk away.
Wesley sat the glass down, undrunk. “How’s your magical control?”
Sebastian looked like he was concentrating for a long moment. “Precarious,” he finally admitted. “If you want to remain upright, I would avoid surprising me.”
Wesley’s lips quirked up. “So you have magic where I have an aura. Do you have anything else that’s different than the rest of us?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Tentacles?”
Sebastian snorted. He was only two shots in, but his eyes already shone in the warm light of the kerosene lamp. “And where would I be hiding these tentacles?”
“I’m sure I don’t know that either. Is there a girlfriend or Mrs. de Leon somewhere who can tell me?” Wesley didn’t think so—Sebastian had seemed so surprised that Wesley’s touch had brought him out of his blood terrors that it seemed unlikely he’d been with anyone else in a long time.
Sure enough, Sebastian gave him a look that saidplease. “You must have guessed by now that there’s not.”
“I’ve learned it’s still good to check.” Wesley leaned back in the high-backed chair. He was just beginning to feel the whiskey himself, his blood mellow, his skin tingling. Or perhaps his nerves were simply hyperaware of the man across the table, because Wesley had been untouched for a long time too. “But I’d wager you’re still popular with women.”
Sebastian shrugged, eyes downcast in an obnoxiously modest way that Wesley suspected meantI don’t want to brag, but of course I am, I’m popular with everyone because I’m ridiculously fucking sexy. Or possibly Wesley was projecting his own thoughts.
“I like making women feel good.” Sebastian sounded wistful. “Or I used to.”
So he did like women. Perhaps Wesley had no chance and was only setting himself for rejection and misery.
Except people attracted to more than one gender did exist. And Sebastianhadbeen flirty today, had come to Wesley’s defense so passionately at the pub. And the way he looked at Wesley, with warm eyes and smiles; the way he’d said Wesley made himremember how to be free.
Ugh, Wesley knew better than to do anything so foolish as hope, but Sebastian toppled his heart’s defenses as surely as his magic capsized Wesley’s knees.
He traced his finger along the rim of his glass. “Your magic comes useful in bed, then?”
Sebastian scoffed. “Who would want their partner to flatten them with a thought?”
“Oh, you can’t be that innocent,” said Wesley. “There are people who would not only want it, they would pay through the nose for it. Pair it with a flogger and men would throw their fortunes at you.”
