Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood #8)(94)

showered, in his bathrobe, with gel in his hair.

Gel: Dead frickin' giveaway.

Going to the door, he cracked the sucker only an inch or two. Out in

the hall, Qhuinn was ready for fighting, his chest holster of daggers hanging from his hand, his leathers on, his New Rocks buckled up.

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Funny, though, the warrior routine didn't make much of an

impression. Blay was too busy remembering what the guy had looked like stretched out on the bed the night before, his eyes on Layla's mouth.

Bad call to have had that feeding done in his own room, Blay thought.

Because now he was stuck wondering how far things had gone on his

mattress between those two.

Knowing Qhuinn, though, that would be all the way. You're welcome.

"John texted me," the guy said. "He and Xhex are going on a Caldie crawl and for once the motherf*cker is--"

Qhuinn's mismatched eyes went up and down and then he leaned to

the side and looked over Blay's shoulder. "What's doing?"

Blay brought the lapels of his robe a little closer. "Nothing."

"Your cologne is different--what did you do to your hair?"

"Nothing. What were you saying about John?"

There was a pause. "Yeah . . . okay. Well, he's heading out and we're going with him. We gotta lay low, though. They're going to want their privacy. But we can--"

"I'm off tonight."

That pierced brow dropped low. "So."

"So . . . I'm off."

"That's never mattered before."

"It does now."

Qhuinn shifted to the side again and glanced around Blay's head.

"You putting on that suit just to impress the home team?"

"No."

There was a long silence and then one word: "Who."

Blay let the door go wide and stepped back into his room. If they were going to get into a thing, no sense doing it out in the corridor for people to see or hear.

"Does that really matter," he said, on a surge of anger.

The door shut. Hard. "Yeah. It does."

As a f*ck-you to Qhuinn, Blay undid the sash of the robe and let it fall from his naked body. And he put the slacks on . . . commando.

"Just a friend."

"Male or female."

"Like I said, does it matter."

Another long pause, during which Blay slipped his shirt on and

buttoned it up.

"My cousin," Qhuinn growled. "You're going out with Saxton."

"Maybe." He went over to the bureau and opened his jewelry box.

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Inside, cuff links of all kinds gleamed. He chose a set that had rubies in it.

"Is this payback for Layla last night?"

Blay froze with his hand on his cuff. "Jesus Christ."

"It is, right. That's what--"

Blay turned around. "Did it ever occur to you that it has nothing to do with you? That a guy asked me out and I want to go? That this is normal? Or are you so self-involved that you filter everything and everybody through your narcissism."

Qhuinn recoiled ever so slightly. "Saxton is a slut."

"Well, I guess you would know what makes one."

"He's a slut, a very classy, very elegant slut."

"Maybe all I want is some sex." Blay cocked a brow. "It's been a while for me, and those females I did in bars just to keep up with you weren't all that good to begin with. I think it's about time I got some, and in the right way."

The bastard had the gall to pale. He honestly did. And goddamn it if

he didn't falter back and lean against the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked roughly.

"He's taking me to Sal's. And then we're going to that cigar bar." Blay did his other cuff up and went over to the dresser for his silk socks.

"Afterward . . . who knows."

A wave of dark spice wafted across the bedroom, and stunned him

into silence. Of all the ways he'd thought this conversation would go . . . his triggering Qhuinn's bonding scent was so not it.

Blay pivoted back around.

After a long, tense moment, he walked toward his best friend, drawn

by the fragrance. And as he came closer, Qhuinn's hot eyes tracked him with each step, the link between them, that had been buried on both sides, abruptly exploding into the room.

When they were nose-to-nose, he stopped, his rising chest meeting

Qhuinn's. "Say the word," he whispered harshly. "Say the word and I won't go."

Qhuinn's hard hands clapped onto both sides of Blay's throat, the

pressure forcing him to tilt his head back and open his mouth so he could breathe. Strong thumbs dug into the joints on either side of his jaw.

Electric moment.

Incendiary potential.

They were going to end up on the bed, Blay thought as he locked his

palms on Qhuinn's thick wrists.

"Say the word, Qhuinn. Do it and I'll spend the night with you. We'll 245

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go out with Xhex and John and when they're through, we'll come back here.

Say it."