Alexei glanced pointedly downstairs. “You have not seen Cam?”
“I’ve seen him. He told me there was a Russian dude there who spooked you.”
“Spooked?” Alexei frowned. “You are obsessed with ghosts, wingman.”
I’m obsessed with you. Obsessed enough to recognise that he wasn’t going to talk. At all. With words or otherwise.
I sighed. Alexei turned his gaze to the window and I took my cue to leave him the fuck alone.I need to sleep. Cam’s house had two bedrooms: one I’d slept in before with him and Alexei, another I assumed to be River’s if he ever came home. Neither felt like a place I’d enjoy on my own, but I opened Cam’s bedroom door anyway.
Sometimes you had to lead the horses to water.
I stripped, took a quick shower, and stole sweatpants from Cam’s seemingly never-ending supply.
Then I lay down on his bed, faced the window, and shut my eyes, drifting, like I knew I would until at least one of them took his head from his arse.
The wait seemed unending, but eventually, the bed dipped behind me. Cool arms wound around my waist and Alexei pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades. He was hard, his cock digging into my back, but he made no move to roll me over and do whatever the fuck was on his mind.
Maybe he knew that the last few days was the most sexually active I’d ever been in my whole fucking life.
Or maybe he knew that I’d give it all up just to feel his skin grow warm against mine.
* * *
Cam
I drew Decoy in the secret Santa. I found the envelope on my bed when I went looking for Saint and Alexei.
They were both gone. Neither of them had come downstairs, so I could only assume they’d climbed out the fucking window.
“What does this mean?”
I jumped a mile. Whirled around.
Alexei was behind me, a shadow in the doorway, an envelope of his own dangling from his elegant fingers.
“Secret Santa?”
“Yes.”
“You give a Christmas present to whoever’s name is inside that envelope. It’s supposed to be secret, but who gets who always leaks.”
“It is a tradition?”
“Yup. Christmas Eve.”
“Oh.”
I wanted to ask him who he’d got. And I wanted to kiss and kill my sister for including him. As if he wasn’t skittish enough. “Where did Saint go?”
“I don’t know. He was gone when I woke up.”
“You slept?”
“Yes. He is a tranquilliser to me, apparently.”
“You don’t seem too happy about it.”
“That I have no control over myself whenever he is close? No, Cam. I did not need two of you in my life for that. It is dangerous.”