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“Fun?” Something told him their definitions of the word were vastly different.
“Usually,” Po took a step closer, “I lure them in and then punish them with my fists, but you’re a special case. I can’t just beat you, I have to prove to the Dominus that you’re not worthy.”
“Odin sent you?” No, no, that wasn’t true. What was happening? Hunter was finding it suddenly difficult to concentrate. His fingers went to the button on his jeans, and before he knew it, he’d slipped it free and pulled down the zipper. “Why’s it so hot in here?”
“Good,” Po sidled up close, reaching forward to slip his hand beneath the hem of Hunter’s shirt, “I was hoping we could get this over quickly.” He pressed his palm flat against Hunter’s bare abdomen.
Hunter moaned, brow furrowing in further confusion at his body’s reaction. “Wait, stop.”
“Just pretend I’m someone else,” Po suggested, adding a second hand, ignoring Hunter’s protests. “It won’t work if you don’t, and we don’t have time to waste messing around. Someone could show up at any moment, and when they do, I need to be balls deep with you screaming for me.”
Hunter recoiled at that image, somehow mustering enough strength to fight back one last time. His fist connected with Po’s jaw, forcing the man back to the other side of the hallway.
His vision was starting to clear again, but there was still a red haze to everything, and his skin felt like it was on fire. When he glanced down, his cock was heavy and swollen, pushing painfully against the tight confines of his pants. It was tempting to rip them off entirely, but when he glanced at Po, some of the flames died down inside of him.
Hunter didn’t want him. He wanted—
The sound of pounding footsteps came, and he swiveled his head to the right, catching sight of Snow and the twins just as they turned the corner.
“Odin.” His body reacted to the sight of him, and he groaned as his cock twitched.
Odin didn’t look at him, though. He stopped between Hunter and Po, keeping Hunter firmly at his back, blocking his view of the other man.
Hunter let out a tiny protest, which had Odin growling at him and sending him a glare. Even that had his toes curling in his boots. That’s what he needed. Odin’s attention. Odin’s hands and his mouth and his—
“No, no, no!” Po yelled and stomped his foot on the opposite side of the hallway. “You’re too early! I need more time!”
“Time for what?” Corbi asked as she and Loni took a position on either side of him. They didn’t pull their weapons from their holsters, however.
“It was you, wasn’t it,” Odin stated, and it sounded like he was barely keeping himself together. “You’re the one who’s been attacking my people.”
“Do you remember me?” Po slapped a palm against the center of his chest, seemingly delighted by that prospect and not at all afraid as he should be.
“He interviewed for a Cherry position six months ago, sir,” Corbi said then, clearly knowing that Odin did not, in fact, recognize the man. “He didn’t get the job because—”
“He’s a user,” Odin filled in for her with a sneer. “So I see.”
They might peddle drugs throughout their businesses, but it was a well-known rule that none of the people who worked for Odin or the Brumal were allowed to use. He was strict when it came to this.
Honestly, right now, Hunter couldn’t care less. He tugged at the back of Odin’s shirt. “Hot.”
“What the hell did you give him?” Odin demanded.
“Magic Mirror,” Po didn’t hesitate to answer. “Everyone is talking about the two of you. But he isn’t worthy. I didn’t get the job, but you gave me a different one. You told me to take a good look at the rest of your people. I’ve been doing that.”
“You were going to force yourself on him?” there was a dark edge to Odin’s tone that completely went over Po’s head.
Whatever he was on, it must be strong for him to miss the danger so fully.
“I gave him Magic Mirror,” Po corrected, waving at Hunter. “He would have—”
“I pushed him away,” Hunter didn’t know why it seemed important that he clarify that detail, but it did. He clung to Odin’s hips and rested his forehead between his shoulder blades, sighing at the warmth and the heady smell of apples and wood. “He’s disgusting. I don’t want him.”
“How dare you!” Po snapped. “I’m seven times better looking than you! I’m—”
Odin lifted his palm, a ball of fire forming there.
This time, the threat seemed to be real enough to make it through Po’s drug-induced state, and he instantly went silent.
