The prick was a perfect picture of unbothered self-indulgence. He was lounging on a red velvet chaise with onehand resting lazily behind his head, the other nursing a glass of some clear liquor. And how veryoddfor him to be in civilian clothes right now, all things considered—his black shirt in a state of partial undress, the buttons undone nearly all the way to his godsdamned navel.
The man who had apparently been so busy with work that he’d been ignoring me for days on end seemed perfectly content and care-free in his current situation: legs splayed wide as a lithe feminine form slowly writhed in between. Another feminine looking hand was already slipping against his neck, joining from behind. Of course.
Of fucking course.
I probably should have just listened to Laurel. Maybe I could have left with my dignity intact, if it weren’t for the fact that in that exact moment, Kieran glanced over in our direction, catching my eye and holding my furious gaze with his own languid, self-satisfied smirk.
He didn’t break that eye contact once as he dipped his head down to press his lips against the stranger’s fingers, now resting on his collarbone. And I was just drunk enough to be brave.
As I started to stride forward, Laurel tried to catch my arm.
“Ark,honey, don’t bother—”
Sienna cut in, her voice nearly as stone-cold and deadly as I was feeling at the moment.
“Laur. Let her go.”
I was going to fucking strangle him.
I made it across the room in just a few strides, and I couldn’t tell if it was because the room was small, or because I was just that angry.
“Busy with work, eh,Captain?” I asked, my voice low and sickly saccharine.
I disregarded the irritated glances I was getting from his choice in companionship this evening. My eyes narrowed in onhim, and him alone. He just gave me a lazy smile, taking a long sip from what smelled like gin in his tumbler.
“I got off early.”
My temper flared to cataclysmic levels, nails biting hard into the tender flesh of my palms.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now, Kieran.”
“Am I?” he mused.
Oh, for fucks sake.
“Why are you doing this?” I demanded.
“Doing what, exactly?”
I stayed silent for a moment. Was this supposed to be a challenge? A trap? Some way to get me to humiliate myself in public by admitting my feelings for him? Was I supposed to act like this was anything other than a complete and utter betrayal?
“Aww,” he said slowly, cocking his head. “Did you really think you could change me so easily, Little Conduit? That’s almost… sweet.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me right now, Kieran.”
“Later, then?”
Between the whiskey and the heat of my anger, masking a much deeper undercurrent of pain, my aether was absolutely roiling beneath my skin. I needed to be careful. I knew what could happen in the heat of a moment.
“I mean, I’d offer to let you join us, but there’s only so much room left on the chair, you see. Hans and Jer are here, though. Perhaps you could show one of them a good time instead,” Kieran suggested, nodding towards the other corner of the room.
I glanced over, tears prickling in my eyes. Hans blanched, meanwhile Jeremiah looked quietly furious.
You and me both, I thought bitterly—though I had no idea what Kieran’s lieutenant was so angry about.
Something about the glimmer in Kieran’s eye, his quiet challenge towards me, and the half-lidded, lusty glance ofappreciation towards the woman in his lap had me on the verge of breaking something. I could practically taste the smoke in my mouth, the way I wanted to burn this entire place down.
“Go fuck yourself,” I spat.