“Stay the fuck away from me,” he growls, but the tremor in his voice betrays him.
I watch him storm off toward the bathroom, his gait slightly awkward as he adjusts himself. How delightfully transparent. The way his body responded to my words tells me everything his mouth denies. That unmistakable bulge doesn’t lie.
I can’t help but smile. Victor Kaine, all testosterone and machismo, getting hard at the thought of me in lingerie. Given enough time and pressure, I’d bet good money I could get the fight club owner to crack. Everyone has their price—or their breaking point.
“What on earth did you say to Victor?” Julian’s cool voice interrupts my thoughts as he slides into the space Victor vacated. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move that quickly outside the fight ring.”
I turn to find Julian watching me with that calculating look in his eyes, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.
“Just offering him a taste of something he clearly wants but won’t admit to,” I reply with a shrug. “You know how I love a challenge.”
Julian crosses one leg over the other with that effortless elegance I’ve always admired. His eyes follow Victor’s retreating form before returning to me, amusement dancing in those ice-blue depths.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree with that one, Theo.” He shakes his head, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Victor may be many things, but flexible in his sexuality isn’t one of them. The man’s straight as an arrow, and that fight club world he lives in? Too macho for him to ever consider fucking a guy, even one as persuasive as you.”
I lean back, letting my fingers trail absently along the arm of the chair. “Never say never, Julian. You’d be surprised how many supposedly straight men have found their way into my bed over the years.” I give him a knowing look. “Some of them had just as macho careers as Victor.”
Julian’s eyebrow arches higher. “Is that your prey for this year’s Hunt then? The big bad fight club owner?”
“Please.” I wave my hand dismissively. “I don’t limit my options that way. Whoever’s willing to properly service my ass will have my eyes.” I flash him a wicked smile. “Though I do enjoy a challenge.”
A genuine laugh escapes Julian’s lips, the kind I rarely hear from him in public. “You’re absolutely insatiable, do you know that?” His voice drops slightly, carrying memories of our past encounters. “Some things never change.”
2
VICTOR
Islam the bathroom door and brace myself against the sink, knuckles white.
Fuck.
What the hell is wrong with me? My reflection glares back, face flushed, pupils blown wide. And my dick—still straining against my zipper like I’m some teenager who’s never been touched.
“Get it together,” I mutter, splashing cold water on my face. The droplets cling to my stubble, rolling down my neck.
This isn’t me. I don’t get hard for men. Never have. I’ve been with enough women to know what I like. What I want.
So why can’t I shake Theo’s words from my head? The way he looked at me. Like he knew something about me that I didn’t even know myself.
I adjust myself, willing my body to calm the fuck down. But every time I close my eyes, I see him—leaning in close, that smirk playing on his lips, voice low and certain when he talked about what he’d do to me. What he’d let me do to him.
“Fucking mind games,” I growl, gripping the edge of the sink harder.
Maybe it’s just been too long. That’s it. I haven’t been with anyone since that redhead last month. My body’s just desperate. Would react to anything remotely sexual. That has to be it.
But even as I think it, I know it’s bullshit.
I’ve never questioned myself before. Not once. Not even in those drunken college nights when boundaries got blurry. I always knew who I was. What I wanted.
So why now? Why him?
I stare at my reflection again. Same face. Same eyes. Same man I’ve always been. Yet something feels shifted, like the ground beneath my feet isn’t as solid as I thought.
There’s no getting rid of this. Not with cold water. Not with deep breaths. Not with all the fucking willpower in the world.
I check over my shoulder—empty bathroom, thank God—and lock myself in the furthest stall. The metal door clicks shut, and I lean against it, already fumbling with my belt. The zipper slides down, and I release a hiss of relief as my cock springs free, bobbing heavily between my legs.
Christ, I’m harder than usual. Veins pulsing visibly along my thick shaft. Like my body’s trying to prove something.