Chapter Two
“You made it.”
Santiago positioned himself between Percy and Elijah, just a little behind, but close enough to block out prying eyes.
The only exception was the bartender, who appeared to be watching Elijah a little too closely.
“Your friends?”
the bartender asked, and even though he glanced away, it felt like his gaze pierced right through Elijah. The tension lingered, his heart racing wildly, but at least the sexy asshole hadn’t thrown Elijah into his trunk.
He’d consider that a win.
“Matias, this is Percy and Elijah,”
Santiago introduced them, but Elijah wished to god he hadn’t. Now Matias knew his name. The guy would know what to etch on Elijah’s pathetic headstone after Matias snapped his neck for defying him in front of everyone.
Elijah thought his day had already hit rock bottom, but apparently all he’d had to do was wait for a visit from Percy and the cover of night.
Percy leaned in as Santiago spoke with Matias. “Oh my god, I seriously thought he was going to drag you over the counter after you lobbed that sass grenade at him.”
He snickered. Elijah sweated bullets. Percy dabbed at his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, pumpkin.”
“You could’ve jumped in at any time and said it was you who slapped the counter,”
he hissed.
Matias returned with two drinks—placing a Cosmo in front of Percy and setting the bourbon in front of Elijah without a word.
The bastard had done that on purpose. A power move, a challenge wrapped in arrogance, daring Elijah to call him out. He forced himself to look away, but his traitorous gaze dragged right back toward Matias.
That grin sharpened, cocky and knowing, before he added a damn wink.
“You guys up for a game of pool?”
Santiago asked, cutting through his spiraling thoughts.
“Sure am.”
Elijah snatched his drink off the counter, knocked it back in one go, and locked eyes with Matias in defiance.
Then promptly choked like a complete idiot.
A violent cough tore through him, burning all the way down as his lungs rebelled. Matias vaulted over the bar in one impossibly smooth motion, slamming a hand against Elijah’s back with enough force to rattle his ribs.
He wasn’t sure what hurt worse, his scorched throat or the fact that Matias was damn near beating the breath out of him.
“Stop,”
he wheezed, genuinely fearing for his poor ribs. No clue where Matias got the water, but suddenly, the rim of a glass was at Elijah’s lips. “Slow sips, conejito ,”
he murmured, his voice so annoyingly soothing it took everything in Elijah not to lean into it.
Much as he hated to admit it, Matias had a presence. The kind of authority that made obedience feel instinctual.
“Are you okay?”
Percy blurted out, panicked, like Elijah was going into labor instead of just setting fire to his own throat.
Santiago just stood there, his lips twitching like he was fighting a damn smile.
Elijah’s eyes burned, tears slipping free before he could blink them back. He swiped them away, nodding stiffly, only to realize Matias still had a firm grip on his arm.
He slid an arm around Elijah, steering him toward a chair like he was some fragile thing in need of handling. Heat radiated off the guy, but Elijah yanked away, refusing to be led anywhere. Whatever concern he was pretending to show now didn’t erase the power move he’d pulled minutes ago.
Throat still on fire, Elijah sat—just not in the chair Matias tried to put him in.
Matias crouched in front of him, arms draped over one knee, hands loosely clasped. He smelled unfairly good—dark, earthy, something that made Elijah’s pulse stutter.
“You started this, conejito ,”
he murmured, voice like smoke and silk. “How about we end this mezquindad ?”
Elijah blinked back more tears, silently cursing his own stupidity for trying to incinerate his own damn throat. “I have no clue what you’re saying.”
For all he knew, Matias could be suggesting they take out everyone in the bar. Wouldn’t be too surprising since he did have killer looks.
A small, private smile played at Matias’s lips, disarming and entirely too affectionate.
“I suggested, more or less, that we call a truce.”
He cocked his head slightly. “?Qué hace un conejo asustadizo en una guarida de lobos?”
What is a scared bunny doing in a den of wolves?
Deep inhale, long exhale. Do not turn into a missing poster. “What. Did. You. Say?”
A hint of teeth flashed before his smirk melted into something softer, something far too inviting. “Do we have a deal?”
Elijah’s gaze dropped to the hand Matias held out. A thought came to mind. If Elijah touched those long, capable fingers, he would never be the same again. He had no idea why he felt that way but decided to err on the side of caution.
“We can be civil.”
Leaning a little farther back, Elijah searched his face—his strong jaw, sensual lips, aquiline nose, and those sultry brown eyes.
Matias had the thickest, prettiest lashes he’d ever seen. They framed his eyes in a way that made them even more captivating, drawing attention to every slow blink and lingering glance.
After a beat, he curled his fingers in then pulled his hand away. This close, Elijah saw the imperceptible glint of disappointment in the man’s eyes.
Too freaking bad.
Trent had taught him a valuable lesson about trusting too easily, a lesson that just might have saved Elijah in that moment. There was something about Matias that made you want to trust him, to lean into his dominance and hand over control.
And it shocked Elijah just how hard it was to resist.
“Here.”
Percy shoved his Cosmo toward Elijah, breaking whatever spell he’d been falling under. “That should clear your windpipe.”
Without thinking, Elijah took a large swallow. Bourbon was not his drink of choice. His throat still felt raw, like he’d swallowed gasoline then tossed a match down the hatch.
Another valuable lesson learned. Do not try to act macho with a drink meant to be sipped.
Percy reached for his martini glass, but Elijah downed the rest of the drink. One of Matias’s thick brows arched as he smirked. Elijah needed to get away from this walking danger sign.
“I’m good.”
He stood too fast. His head swam. He dropped back down, nearly missing the chair directly behind him. Jesus. That bourbon had a delayed punch.
Matias grabbed his hips, holding Elijah steady before he hit the floor.
“ Ligero. ”
Lightweight. Matias softly chuckled, Santiago smirking behind him.
“What did you call me?”
Elijah narrowed his eyes, tired of this sexy prick talking shit to him in another language. “If you’re going to insult me, make sure I can at least understand what you’re saying to me.”
“Sit at the bar.”
Matias winked. “I’ll make your Cosmopolitan, conejito. ”
Elijah’s gaze swung toward Santiago. “What does that word mean?”
he demanded.
The bastard’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile, making his green eyes sparkle. “Are you still up for a game of pool, or do you need to sit for an hour or two?”
If he wasn’t so massive, Elijah might have smacked his arm. But his biceps could’ve been considered lethal weapons. Besides, he’d saved Percy and Macey on more than one occasion, so Elijah let the teasing slide.
Instead, Elijah pulled out his phone, determined to look the word up and find out exactly what Matias kept calling him. But his fingers froze when he saw the text from Trent.
Fine. Don’t answer your door. Let the games begin, Elijah. Next to Elijah’s name was a purple-faced demon with a sinister smile.
Shit. That spiraled. Hopefully Trent was just being petty and didn’t actually mean he was going to do something stupid.
He glanced up. Santiago was talking with some guy. Percy was perched on a stool, frowning into his empty martini glass like he couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t instantly refilling on its own.
Elijah’s gaze flicked to Matias, who stood there watching him. The man’s brows knitted slightly, as if he could read the panic in Elijah’s eyes. He glanced down at his phone, at the clear threat staring back at him, his breathing growing shallow.
Trent was a petty bitch on his best days. It would’ve taken Elijah the rest of the night to list everything he’d done to prove it. But Trent had never outright threatened him before.
What games? What did he plan on doing? Now, Elijah stood there wondering if he should send him a quick text to appease him. It was what Elijah had done countless times in the past when Trent had become upset with him.
But the thought of groveling to a pretentious jerk made him grind his teeth. Call it pride. Call it stubbornness, but Elijah would rather slam back a dozen bourbons than kowtow to the bastard.
Tucking his phone away, Elijah headed to the bar, taking a seat next to Percy. “I’ll buy you another drink, honey.”
Elijah bumped shoulders with him, determined not to let Trent ruin his evening. “We’re here to have fun, right?”
Percy slid the glass across the scarred countertop. “Damn right.”
His dimples appeared. His voice lowered. “ Boy , I felt the heat coming off that hunk when he was crouching in front of you.”
He leaned in, his lips close to Elijah’s ear. “Give in to a night of danger, Elijah. You only live once. Best way to get over Treacherous Trent, right?”
“When has sleeping with one guy to get over another ever worked in the history of man?”
Elijah chuckled but felt uneasy at how quickly Percy’s suggestion had taken root, already trying to blossom even as Elijah actively tried to stop it from spreading through his entire lust-soaked brain.
* * * *
Elijah had never played pool in his life, and it showed. Every time he tried to make a shot, the tip of his pool cue either scraped the green felt or shot in a wayward direction. One time, he hit the ball so hard half the people in the room flinched while the others actually ducked down.
The three Cosmo hadn’t helped Elijah’s coordination. Percy was just as tipsy, hugging his pool cue like it would grow legs and escape the moment he let it go.
The two other tables were occupied, but a few onlookers had drifted over to theirs. Apparently watching two guys play the worst pool game in history was entertaining to them. Elijah had even seen a couple of them exchanging money. They were betting, but he wasn’t sure what they were betting against. Bodily injury by a flying pool ball or who missed the most shots?
To make matters exponentially worse, Matias had drifted into the back room about twenty minutes ago and hadn’t stopped staring Elijah’s way. With the guy’s laser focus, Elijah’s lack of skills had gotten worse, causing him to embarrass himself.
Forcing himself to ignore Matias, Elijah made his shot. His ball barely moved in inch, but his pool cue shot across the table and hit the floor with a clatter.
Crap.
Santiago picked it up and handed it back to Elijah but was kind enough not to laugh right in his face.
“By the way, Percy has solids.”
Santiago’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
Glaring at him, Elijah held a hand up. “How do you know I wasn’t using his balls strategically, hmm ?”
Percy erupted into a fit of laughter, his arm sinking onto the edge of the table for support. “Honey, leave my balls out of this.”
Even Matias was grinning from where he leaned against the wall behind Santiago.
Elijah’s scowled at all of them. “This is our game.”
His finger swung unsteadily between Percy and himself. “If I want to use his balls to score, you can’t stop me.”
He smirked at Percy, who swayed where he stood. “Whoever knocks the most balls inside the table wins.”
“Pockets,”
Santiago groaned. “Whoever pockets the most balls wins. Ay dios mío .”
He threw his hands up while rolling his eyes.
Elijah swiped his drink from the table close to him, ready to finish it, but Matias gently took it from his hand and set it aside. Elijah watched, feeling helpless to stop it.
“Care to learn the proper way to hold your pool cue?”
Elijah’s head was buzzing too loudly to handle Mr. Seductive right now. Matias’s presence commanded a room, and Elijah’s personal space too. His energy wrapped around Elijah, sliding into kinky places.
What ? His brain made no sense at the moment.
“Sure,”
Elijah said with sarcasm with a smug smile. “Impress me, Obi-Wan.”
Matias stepped to him, curling his large hand around the top of the stick, and stared Elijah right in the eye. “ Puedo darle un mejor uso a esa boca inteligente, conejito. ”
I can put that smart mouth to better use, bunny.
What…what did… Elijah’s brain could not keep up after the bourbon and three Cosmopolitans. His eyelids lowered a few times, and he wasn’t sure if he was blinking or falling asleep on his feet. The corners of his mouth lifted in a lazy curl. “You’re right .”
You do have to teach a newbie.
Did he say the last part out loud or just think it?
Heat flared in Matias’s eyes. His lips brushed Elijah’s ear, causing him to shiver. “Be very careful. You play with fire, humano .”
Didn’t he mean hermano ? Elijah knew very little Spanish, but he recognized the word for brother. With the way he felt right now, he prayed Matias wasn’t looking at him in a brotherly way.
Elijah uncurled his fingers from the stick, wondering if he should step outside for some fresh, humid-soaked air. He was willing to bet it was a lot cooler out there than it was inside the pool room. Definitely cooler than the air stirring between him and Matias.
“No.”
Matias crooked his finger. Elijah’s eyelids slid down then struggled to lift back up. “ What ?”
Oh god. Now Elijah was talking in slow motion. He just wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Matias was gazing at him. Before he knew what his body was doing, Elijah stepped into his space.
His dominant, heated, all-consuming space. Tilting his head back, Elijah stared into those mesmerizing light brown eyes. “Yes?”
The word came out in a slow hiss.
A slow, sultry smile curved Matias’s kissable lips, his expression unreadable now. Or maybe it was, and Elijah just wasn’t sober enough to pretend otherwise.
“Let me teach you.”
His voice was a low rumble, making Elijah wonder if they were still talking about a pool lesson or something else entirely.
Before he could react, Matias moved even closer, if that were possible. Elijah caught the faint scent of smoke and spice. Like sin made flesh. He inhaled deeply, drawing as much of the smell as he could into his lungs.
Warm hands skimmed down his arms, guiding them as Matias moved in behind Elijah, fitting their bodies together with an ease that left him lightheaded. Elijah stiffened, trying to make sense of what he was doing.
“Relax,”
Matias murmured, his voice wrapping Elijah in a heat that was as dangerous as it was thrilling.
Matias’s hands swallowed Elijah’s, adjusting his grip on the pool cue before trailing lower. Elijah’s lips parted, his breath shallow as Matias urged his hips forward. He gasped then groaned when Matias’s knee slid between his legs, nudging them apart. We’re they about to play pool or fuck?
“You’re tense, conejito .”
The words ghosted against Elijah’s ear, sending something electric toward his groin. “Bend over a little for me.”
Jesus. What was Matias doing to him? Of course he was tense. Matias was all up on him like Elijah was a meal. He didn’t know whether to run, moan, or yank his damn pants down, uncaring of the room full of people. All he cared about was the way Matias made him feel, like he was the sole focus of the man’s attention. Consumed by his presence. Overwhelmed by his touches.
Elijah was losing control of this situation, if he’d had any to begin with. His little show of defiance was now a distant memory, laughable in light of what Matias was doing to him.
The heat at Elijah’s back had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the way the guy moved, and Elijah willingly followed his lead.
His breath came out in short pants, fingers tightening on the cue stick as Matias leaned in, his lips so close Elijah could turn his head and their lips would meet.
Turn your head and let him rock your fucking world, idiot. Do it.
There was something almost sinful in the smoky rasp of his voice, each word dragging Elijah’s deeper into a storm of want and need. “Position is everything, Elijah .”
Holy. Shit. The way that deep timbre said his name…
Elijah was going to legit pass out, tempted to beg the guy to say it a few more dozen times. Matias made his name sound like the most seductive word on the planet.
Even tipsy, he knew for damn sure Matias was no longer talking about pool. Elijah looked over his shoulder, their faces inches apart. “You think so?”
The side of Elijah’s mouth twisted into a teasing, flirty grin.
What the hell am I doing? Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sober Elijah was screaming for him to abort mission and run for his life. Matias was too much, too overwhelming, and way too dangerous.
Unfortunately, Drunk Elijah was at the helm, barreling full steam ahead toward disaster while laughing maniacally.
Drunk Elijah was urging him to flirt, to take Percy’s advice and live a little. To completely throw sanity out the window and let this sensual beast have him.
A low growl rumbled in Matias’s throat. He nipped playfully, teasing Elijah’s earlobe between his teeth. “ Si estuvieras sobrio, te devoraría, dulce conejito. ”
If you were sober, I’d eat you up, sweet bunny.
“I have no idea what you just said, but it sounded insanely sexy.”
Elijah grinned. Matias chuckled softly. The deep rumble caused Elijah’s wires to short-circuit. Mr. Seductive knew exactly what he was doing. Elijah was sure of it.
Matias didn’t just flirt. He made an entire, heart-pounding experience out of it. Elijah had never felt so… devoured.
The man was a sexual menace. A danger who was effortlessly snaring Elijah. And good god, he was not only letting Matias, but he was also enjoying every goddamn second of it. Loving the way the guy’s tall, strong frame curled around his smaller one. The way Matias’s heat soaked into Elijah’s very being while his intoxicating scent invaded every inhaled breath.
“Pay attention to the lesson, temptress.”
With Matias guiding his moves, Elijah shot three striped balls into the same pocket.
“I did it!”
He pushed back, causing Matias to move out of the way. Then Elijah clapped and jumped in place, his grin so wide his cheeks hurt.
“That’s called cheating,”
Percy whined, his bottom lip jutting out. Then those devilish dimples made an appearance, and something told Elijah he wasn’t going to like what Percy was about to say. “And the hottest lesson I have ever seen. Teach me next!”
Santiago snarled at the same time a feral growl ripped from Elijah’s throat. Oh my god! Where in the hell had that come from? Percy was his best friend. Elijah had never acted aggressively toward him. Ever.
Matias’s hands landed on Elijah’s hips, leaning in, whispering, “That was the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard. Are you staking your claim, conejito ?”
Elijah most certainly was. Wasn’t! Shit, he wasn’t! Your drinks are officially cut off, buddy.
Matias was a temptation he needed to steer clear of. One, he’d just had his heart stomped on by Trent. Two… Elijah struggled to think of another reason, certain there was one but hell if it came to mind.
The way Matias gazed at him felt like a stamp of ownership, like he was already figuring out how fast they could make it to the nearest bed.
“I need air!”
As drunk as he was, Elijah moved surprisingly fast through the tavern, heading straight for the exit while navigating through the crowd. “Excuse me. Excuse me. Move!”
he shouted.
Suddenly, everyone parted like the Red Sea, leaving him a clear path to the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the reason they’d moved. Matias stood just outside the entrance to the back room, his intense gaze locked onto Elijah.
Terrified Elijah was now in charge, panicking big-time. Screw Percy’s advice. He wasn’t having a one-night stand with someone who could make an entire room obey him without uttering a single word. That spoke of a power far beyond Elijah’s comprehension.
Matias was a dangerous man, and Elijah wanted no part of him—even if every inch of his body begged him to turn around and surrender.