Page 6 of Betrothed in Fury
“They followed my orders not to harm you or your family, which obviously, as a Lorde, was my primary concern. I hope you appreciate that.”
“What about what they did to my guys? Lowes? Hayes?”
“They’re perfectly fine. Told them I had a special secret surprise for you.”
“And they bought that?”
He shrugs. “We’re allies.” He studies me, his expression turning dark…or really, darker. “They did ding you up a bit.”
“Not like I wasn’t fighting back.”
He grins. “Of course you fought. You want something to drink?” He asks that as if I’d simply come for a visit, not like he’d just abducted me.
“I would rather get to the point of why you felt the need to interrupt my night. I can’t imagine it’s because you wanted to have a little chat.”
“Then you’re wrong. I do want to have a chat. But not a little one. A big one.”
He heads over to the bar area, picks up a bottle of whiskey, and pours himself a glass. He takes a swig, taking his time, reveling in this power he has over the son of Ian Wilde.
I wait for what I feel like is too damn long for him to give me a reason why he’s got me here before finally saying, “Okay, seriously?”
“I like you, Logan. You’ve always had a certain charm about you, even when we were younger.”
We spent our teens around each other. We’d see each other when our dads met for poker games or held meetings. Of course, we’ve had discussions over the years, but only in a professional capacity. The past few years, though, we’ve mostly engaged through messengers or gotten together to shake hands or sign some agreement.
“Now here we are all these years later,” he goes on. “You tied up in my study, about to have the most important conversation of our lives.”
“Well, that’s a buildup. Now, please, for the love of God, tell me what you’re getting at.”
He laughs. “Our wedding, you sexy motherfucker.”
“Um…what?”
No, seriously. What?
His grin suggests how much he’s enjoying this. He takes another swig before approaching. “Don’t try to back out now. I’ve been looking forward to this, dreaming about this day. And you are quite a catch, I see. And that dick, does it grow more than that?” Killian Lorde is an out and proud bi crime boss, and the way his gaze is set on my cock makes his interest in dudes crystalclear. I wonder if he’s comparing my size to other guys he’s been with. “Should I give it a tug to find out?”
“Sorry, abduction isn’t a turn-on for me.” I twist, shifting to keep him from being able to look at it, but he moves closer, his drink in one hand as he reaches toward it with the other.
“Do you mind?” he asks, as though he’s being a gentleman. When I don’t reply, he says, “I’ll take silence as a yes, so tell me no if you don’t want me touching you.”
I don’t imagine he’ll respect what I say either way, so I stay silent, and he cops a feel. He cups my balls and studies my cock. Something in the way his jaw sets makes me think he likes what he sees and is tempted to probe further, but he pulls his hand away, swallowing like it was a struggle to do that much, leaving behind a warm sensation I try to ignore because it didn’t feel half bad.
“What is this wedding crap you’re referring to?”
“You haven’t answered if it grows, but you want me to answer that?”
“I’m straight, so it won’t do that for you. Sorry.” My sorry couldn’t be more sarcastic.
“You didn’t deny it, so I’ll take that as a yes,” he says quietly, sounding deeply satisfied.
“But I’m straight,” I stress again.
“I don’t care.”
“I’m sorry, but I think I’m missing something here.”
He tilts his head. “Do you really think playing oblivious means I won’t collect? The Lordes always collect.”
