Ruthless Knights (The Dark Elite 2)

I inhale his sweet clove scent as our kiss lingers for a moment. This is a statement too, a message to every person in the bar, and my heart kicks in my chest at the implications of what we’re doing.

When he pulls away, a small smile tilts his lips. “Be good, Grace.”

He slips away into the crowd, and Lucas and Zaid both shift closer to me in a protective gesture.

“Want something to drink?” Lucas asks, glancing down at me with a wolfish grin.

“Yeah, why not? I’ll have a—”

“Glenfiddich,” Lucas finishes, turning to the bartender, Charlie. “Three of ’em. Neat.”

The broad-shouldered man behind the bar nods. I recognize him from when I used to come here with my parents, and I grin when he catches my gaze and smiles. He was always laid-back and friendly, and it doesn’t look like the past six years have changed that.

“How did you know?” I ask Lucas, cocking my head.

“That’s what you always got.”

“What if I was going to ask for something else tonight?”

“Were you?” He grins.

When I don’t respond, his smile widens. Charlie comes back quickly with the drinks, and when I take a sip of mine, I almost moan with satisfaction.

“See?” Lucas takes a sip of his own drink, looking cocky as fuck.

I flip him off, rolling my eyes as I chuckle. The dimly lit bar is crowded and boisterous. It’s a neighborhood establishment with quite a few regulars, but tonight, everyone in the place is connected to the Novak Syndicate. Zaid and Lucas aren’t pulled away by the same duties Hale was, so we settle in at a small high-top table near the bar, drinking and talking. Conversation rolls off our tongues easily as we slip back into old habits and memories.

For the first time in a long time, I feel completely relaxed. Every fucked up thing that’s happened over the past several weeks seems to slip away, leaving just the pleasant buzz of the alcohol in my veins and the feel of Zaid’s shoulder brushing against mine. The sound of Lucas’s infectious laugh. The smell of cigar smoke and the hubbub of voices.

We finish our first drinks and get another round, and by the time I’ve finished my second whiskey, it’s becoming harder and harder not to notice how close we’re all standing, gathered around the small table. Every time our bodies touch, heat flares inside me, and we seem to be touching more and more.

“You know…” My words trail off as I hold up my empty drink, looking at Lucas through the patterned glass. His handsome face is distorted, spinning slightly at the edges. “You know what I’ve always wondered?”

“What have you wondered?” His green eyes darken as I lower the glass, his gaze dipping to my mouth.

“What would have happened in the kitchen that night?”

My voice is quiet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s only meant for two people, and they can hear my words just fine. Zaid’s eyes widen a little, and my pulse picks up as both he and Lucas lean closer to me. A demanding ache is building in my core, and I shift my weight, squeezing my thighs together to try to relieve it.

“What would’ve happened?” Lucas echoes my question, his voice thick.

“If I hadn’t mentioned what Brian said. If we hadn’t gotten distracted.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. Bringing this up seemed like a great idea in my tipsy state a moment ago, but now I feel inexplicably nervous. “What would’ve happened? Between the three of us?”

Zaid makes a noise low in his throat, and when I turn my gaze toward him, the look in his eyes goes straight through my body, better than any drink. He downs the rest of his whiskey in one swallow, then sets his glass on the table top with a heavy thud. His hand wraps around my wrist, and he tugs me through the crowd toward the back of the bar, Lucas right behind us.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my breath coming faster.

Zaid stops, and for a moment, I’m pinned between his body and Lucas’s in the middle of the dark bar. They’re both breathing harder too, and when Zaid turns around and reaches up to drag his knuckles down the side of my face, my pussy clenches.

“You wanted to know what would’ve happened, kitten,” he murmurs quietly.

Lucas’s lips brush the shell of my ear, his body hot and hard behind mine. “So we’ll show you.”

18

Grace

Anticipation surges through me like a shot of straight adrenaline as the three of us slip out of the main room of the bar, heading down a hallway toward the back. I almost trip over Zaid’s feet in my impatience to get where we’re going, and he laughs as he stops in front of a door and tries the handle.