“Why not?” Saxton reached out and ran his thumb back and forth over Blay’s lower lip. “He’s here with us whether we do or we don’t.”
Blay thought about lying and then gave up the fight. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s all right—I know what I’m in.” Saxton’s free hand sneaked under the duvet. “And I know what I want.”
Blay groaned as that palm rubbed against what immediately became a thick erection. And as his hips lifted and he spread his legs for Saxton, he met the eyes of his lover and sucked that thumb into his mouth.
This was so much better than getting on the Qhuinn roller coaster—this he knew and he liked. He was safe here. He didn’t get hurt here.
And he had found a deep, sexual connection here.
Saxton’s stare was both hot and serious as he released what he’d found, pulled the covers off of Blay’s body and freed the knot on the tie of his own robe.
This was very good, Blay thought. This was right—
As his lover’s mouth found his collarbone and then drifted lower, Blay closed his eyes—except as he began to get lost in the sensations, what he saw was not Saxton.
“Wait, stop—” He sat up and took the other male with him.
“It’s okay,” Saxton said quietly. “I know where we’re at.”
Blay’s heart cracked a little. But Saxton just shook his head and put his lips back to Blay’s chest.
They had never spoken of love—and this made him realize they never were going to, because Saxton was indeed clear on things: Blay was still in love with Qhuinn—and probably always would be.
“Why?” he said to his lover.
“Because I want you for however long I have you.”
“I’m going nowhere.”
Saxton just shook his head against the tight abdominals he was nipping at. “Stop thinking, Blaylock. Start feeling.”
As that talented mouth went all the way down, Blay hissed in a breath and decided to take the advice. Because it was the only way to survive.
Something told him that it was only a matter of time before Qhuinn came forward and announced that he and Layla were getting mated.
He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did. The two had been hooking up for weeks, and the Chosen had been in there again the day before—he’d caught her scent and sensed her blood next door.
And though this conviction could have just been a mental exercise to depress the hell out of himself, he felt like it was so much more than that. It was as if the fog that normally obscured the coming days and months and years had grown unbearably thin and the shadows of destiny were showing themselves to him.
Just a matter of time.
God, that was going to kill him.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he groaned.
“Me, too,” his lover said sadly around his erection. “Myself as well.”
FIFTY-NINE
The following evening, Payne paced around the front of the Brotherhood’s mansion, going from the dining room through the foyer and into the billiards room and back again. And again. And again.
Her male had departed from the house in the middle of the afternoon to “take care of some things.” And though he’d declined to inform her what they were, she’d very much enjoyed the slightly naughty smile on his face as he’d tucked her into the bed they’d fully used during the night—and then left.
No sleep for her after that. None at all.
There was too much to be happy about.