Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Andrei grinned. Melissa didn’t cook much. She worked just as many hours at her job as her husband and from what he’d witnessed, they argued over whose turn it was to cook most nights. Hell, Andrei had cooked once at their house. Steak, of course. And bagged salad. He constantly sent out thanks to whoever came up with that idea. Though, eating Rialto food was going to spoil him. He bet Ian never touched a bagged salad, could even imagine the horrified dismay on the pretty guy’s face when confronted with it. He grinned.
“What’s funny?” Rowe sliced into a wedge of steak.
“The thought of Ian eating bagged salad.”
Rowe snorted. “Never gonna happen. Never.”
Andrei relaxed. It seemed the subject of his stupidity last night was over. It was a good thing because he still wasn’t sure he was comfortable with why he’d let Lucas talk him into going inside that warehouse.
Rowe never bothered Lucas, and Andrei figured out he’d only come to check on him and the situation. Probably to steal some of the food, too. The rest of the afternoon passed with only the occasional glimpse of Lucas or Candace. The two worked long hours. When Lucas finally emerged in the early evening, it was only to announce that he had to check on another of his clubs that night.
###
“You been here before?” Lucas asked Andrei as they walked inside Gaile. Andrei scoped the crowd and never removed his hand from Lucas’s arm, the heat from his skin burning through Lucas’s jacket.
“No. It’s nice.” Andrei’s gaze roamed the crowd.
“Have you even noticed the décor?” He waved toward the massive mirrored wall behind the bar with the glass shelves of collectable vodka bottles, the buttery gold and red round couches that circled low, walnut tables. He’d created a mix of modern and old world comfort, sort of meshing two bars he had good memories in. One in Vegas and one a small pub in Ireland. He grinned. Such fond, fond memories of that pub.
“The décor isn’t where the danger lies.” Andrei did sort of glance around then. “Comfy. What does the name mean?”
“It’s Gaelic for steam. Snow and I had a pretty hot time on vacation in Ireland once.” Lucas winked. “I modeled some of this place after a sweet little pub we frequented.”
Andrei’s gaze locked onto Lucas’s. “Hot time? Together?” The hand on Lucas’s arm tightened, almost possessively, but Lucas wasn’t sure that Andrei was aware he’d done it. He wanted to just lean in and run his tongue along Andrei’s lips, teasing them from the tight line he’d pressed them into, urging them to part for him again.
Everyone who spent any time around them asked that question sooner or later, so Lucas wasn’t at all surprised. “Snow and I are friends. Just close friends.” He didn’t bother to explain their friendship further. It wouldn’t even be possible.
“Shiver, Steam—are all your clubs named like that?”
“Not all, but I do like my…sensations.” Smirking, Lucas tugged on Andrei’s shirt. “Come on. I called ahead and made sure the best table was clear.”
“You mean there isn’t a table that stays permanently clear for you?”
Lucas shook his head. “I usually stay behind that wall of glass.” He pointed to a dark wall. “I can see everything from in there.”
“Looks safer. Let’s go there.”
Andrei gave him a look Lucas wasn’t sure he knew how to interpret. Did the man want to get him alone behind that wall? The thought of fucking up against that one-way mirror sent heat spiraling through Lucas’s body. Andrei, that black silk shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, his pants shoved down to his knees. Lucas would press him to the glass, make him watch the people barely a foot away from them as he tangled his hands in all that black hair and pushed slowly into his body.
Seeing Snow sprawled on one of the red couches surrounding the table he’d reserved sent that fantasy to the back of his mind. He could do nothing about the hard-on barely contained in his slacks. The blond twink currently trying to crawl into Snow’s lap would hopefully keep his friend from noticing Lucas’s predicament. He shook his head, smirking as Snow grinned at the kid, picked him up and set him on the couch next to him.
Lucas narrowed his eyes. Kid was right. Was he even legal? He picked up the pace, wove through a tight crowd and stopped at the table as the obviously drunk young man tried to crawl into Snow’s lap again. “Problem?” It took effort to hold back a laugh as Snow winced and grabbed the kid’s hips.
“I think you need to card this one,” the doctor said through gritted teeth. “Hey.” He clutched the blond’s arms, pulled the wandering mouth off his neck and pushed him away. “Do you have someone you can call to come get you?”