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I look from Grayson to Xander and then away just as fast because Xander’s eyes. Are. Studying. Me.
Does he remember that night?
“Grayson, buddy,” Xander says humourlessly. I remember that voice, too. Perfectly deep with an organic roughness that isn’t too harsh but still sends shudders through me—and I look back just as Xander’s topaz eyes shift to Grayson, now squaring his shoulders in defence. “I need a word, mate. Let’s go.”
“Fuck off,” Grayson barks, but it lacks bravado. He’s unable to hide the nervousness as he shuffles, wary because he knows better than to argue with a Butcher. Just thank his lucky stars it’s Xander and not… well, any of the other Butcher Boys.
The memory of a few months ago flashes behind my eyes. Tied to a chair in a warehouse by his big brother Clay after I accidentally—on purpose—lit a fire that spread way too far and— Well, Daddy Butcher wasn’t happy about the bad press. But he let me go with a ‘warning.’
It's no secret that it’s his city. The District is owned by theCosa Nostraand run by the Butcher Boys. All wealthy residents have been stuffing dollar bills into theCosa Nostra’spocket for protection and dodgy tenders since the seventies. Wealthy families like the Youngs. Like mine—the Lovits.
Unless… Xander knows…
Oh shit, is this about the fire?
“I’m not asking,” Xander states, tilting his head, the ends of his dark hair touching his long lashes as his eyes drop to the balaclava in Grayson’s grip. His brows shoot up. “Kinky.”
“You are fucking kidding me, right?” Grayson opens his arms wide. “I have her pussy all over my lips. Can you leave and, I’ll, like, meet you outside in a minute?”
Xander stares blankly at him and then says, “Allow me.” He takes the two paces to meet Grayson in the centre of the room, looks down his nose at him, and swipes his thumb over Grayson’s moist lips.
My jaw drops. It’s like a 90s cartoon where my mandible continues along the floor like a scroll. It’d be comical if the situation wasn’t growing so serious so quickly.
Sucking his thumb into his mouth, tastingme, Xander taunts, “Hmm. Lovely. Lucky boy.”
Grayson is dumb-fuck speechless as Xander pops his thumb out. “Let’s go, Young.”
When Grayson doesn’t immediately comply, Xander fists the back of his shirt, lifting him slightly to his toes. “You,” he says, turning to smile charmingly at me as I gape at the absurdity of this situation, “stay right there, girlie.”
Fuck.
It is about the fire—
Wait.“What? No. I’m not staying in his bed and just waiting.” I try to stand when Xander holds his hand up, halting me halfway along the mattress with the sheets still clutched to my chest.
“I’ll be back in five,” Xander says smoothly, offering up a wink that causes my insides to come alight with need. “I’ll finish you off for him. It’s the least I can do for the intrusion.”
“What!”
I mean…
‘Least you can do.
You’re so funny.
And thank you.
I roll my eyes at my inner monologue. He turns to leave, then spins around as though he’s forgotten something, dragging Grayson like a doll. Everyone looks like a damn portable person when towered by one of the Butcher Brothers. “You taste so fucking good. Please don’t move.” He turns but double backs again in one movement, his mouth moving as though he is still tasting me. “I lied. It’s not for you. It’s for me. I need more of that.”
And that is the new standard.
From now on, if a boy doesn’t say, “I need more of that,” after tasting me, I don’t want him.
Another full three-sixty and Xander stops, caught in a constant wrestle with his feet to stay or go. “Stay there. I mean it. Don’t make me chase that pussy through the house.” His eyes drink me in, his body frozen for a moment, no doubt at war with himself. Finally, he groans in arousal and frustration before forcing himself through the open door.
He vanishes with Grayson.
The compliment hits me, causing my lips to smile on their own accord. I ignore it.Fucking caveman.
