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A hand slid up his arm, and Sebastian locked eyes with Will. His warm brown gaze was soft and curious. He squeezed Sebastian’s arm gently and smiled without saying a word. His fingers pressed in, urging him forward. Towards Jericho.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Quinn and Peyton were standing in the doorway, watching silently too.
He glanced between them all, panic spreading through his chest.
What the fuck was he doing?
He tensed, prepared to back away and forget this had ever happened.
“Sebastian,” Quinn said softly.
There wasn’t any of the accusation he expected in any of their eyes when he looked between them again. Just curiosity and something else.
Something that burned brighter, sank deeper, felt hotter.
Something that had been growing from the moment Sebastian had found Jericho sitting on the couch in his office.
Fuck it.
He surged upward, capturing Jericho’s lips beneath his as he grasped the nape of his neck, hard enough he knew that there had to be pain mixing in with the pleasure. Jericho moaned, allowing it, their tongues vying for control as they tried to destroy one another.
Jericho tugged on Sebastian’s tie, and it tightened around his neck. Not enough to choke him but enough for him to know that there was pressure. There was no teasing in this kiss. None of the playfulness of Will, or the sweetness of Quinn, or the combination of the two in Peyton. Jericho was trying to consume him, to suck out everything until there was nothing left.
And Sebastian found himself melting, wanting all of it. Wantingall of them.
He pulled back with a strangled gasp, his blood freezing in his veins. “No,” he said hoarsely. “No.”
He stumbled out of the room, his movements jerky as his muscles tried to lock up on him.
He was in the living room before he came back to himself, and he froze, staring at the couch. He’d been in here since the incident, of course. The layout of his house meant he couldn’t get to parts of it without going through. He’d thought it was fine. It washis house, and no one could take that from him.
The blood pumping in his veins and the panic from thinking he’d fucked everythingup,again, morphed the panic into pure terror.
All he could see were bodies on the floor. Blood in his carpet—how had they even gotten thatout?—and the unfamiliar weight of a rifle in his hand.
He stared down at his hands. They looked clean. Normal. He didn’t even know why they felt stained.
He hadn’tdoneanything. Peyton had protected him.
They’d tried to kill him.
Peytonhad protected him.
He’d killed two men in Sebastian’s living room.
Someone was still trying to kill him. A new threat from the shadows.
Jerichowas protecting him now.
He’dkissedJericho.
“Hey,” Quinn said softly.
Sebastian tensed.
He didn’t know what to say. Maybe they hadn’t stopped him, maybe what was in their eyes had encouraged him. But he hadn’t been given permission. Not really. Not enough. Not verbally, not clearly. It felt like a strange self-fulfilling prophecy. He and Quinn had destroyed each other because Quinn hadn’t been able to trust that Sebastian hadn’t strayed from him. Was he doing it now, in front of Quinn, just to show him how easy it could be?
No. He sucked in a deep breath. That wasn’t fair. Not to either of them, not to Will and Peyton, or to Jericho, who seemed to have a connection with all of them.
