Xavier
“Brother-in—you mean Jericho? How is that worse?”
“How much you have to learn, duckling.” If Hunter weren’t so attached to me breathing, I have no doubt that Jericho would have come for me a long time ago. He may have even succeeded. I don’t underestimate wolves like him.
“That’s not an emasculating nickname at all,” Matthew mutters, letting go of me. The sense of loss is unexpected.
With a chuckle I tug on a strand of his hair. I’m not one to resist my baser urges, so I thread my fingers through it. “Soft.” Like duckling feathers. Unsurprising.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you condition it.”
“Is it?” He stays intensely still as I continue gliding my hands through his hair. The way it goes in all directions and clearly has no rhyme or reason reminds me further of fluffy baby ducks.
“I think so,” he breathes out, eyes flitting down to my lips.
As much as I’d like to continue this train of thought, Jericho will be almost to the back door now, and there’s no avoiding this confrontation.
Jericho waltzes through the door using his own key a moment later and doesn’t take his shoes off. He’s not here to stay, then. A retrieval of some sort?
He stops abruptly at the sight of us, giving Matthew a cursory glance before settling on me. He sneers at me. “Where the fuck is Hunter?”
“He’s rescuing a lizard,” I reply flippantly, amused by the way confusion flits across his face.
“What?”
“Suffice to say he’s unavailable. Do you want to leave a message? I’ll make sure he gets it at my earliest convenience.”
“How about you get the fuck out of his house.”
“No.”
“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that he invited you here,” Jericho scoffs. “I know my brother, and he doesn’t make mistakes like that.”
“Perhaps not, but here I am. Without force, I’d like to add.”
“Get out.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
Jericho stalks forward, furious. “You’re not welcome here. Not you, or your lapdog, or anyone even closely associated with you. I’m not going to ask you to leave again.”
“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” I’m not leaving, and it’s best he accepts that. He can do whatever he came here for and then leave.
I don’t see the hit coming, which is my first mistake. Idealistic of me to think Jericho wouldn’t get physical. He’s always looking for an excuse.
He gets me square in the mouth, splitting my bottom lip good enough I can taste the metallic tang of blood. The second shot I’m prepared for.
“Stop!” Matthew’s alarmed cry barely registers, my focus entirely on the man intent on doing me more bodily harm.
He’d be easier to incapacitate if I was willing to hurt him.
Kill him. Jericho may hate me, but the feeling isn’t mutual.
I’ve always admired his loyalty to Hunter, his willingness to put himself into any situation for his brother.
I don’t worry so much when I know Hunter is with Jericho.
Though if he keeps trying to hit me, we’re going to have a new problem.
Grasping his forearm, I stop the next swing and twist him around. He headbutts me from behind, pain in my upper nose making my eyes water. Keeping my hold on him, I kick in his knee and then pull out my gun before he can recover. When he twists to find it aimed between his eyes he stops, sneering.
“Dirty tactic.”
“Rich coming from the person who swung first and without warning.” I’ve never claimed to be a man of honour when it comes to my life or my personal safety.
“You deserved it.”
I concede that point. “There’s no need for unpleasantries, Jericho. I can be a gentleman if you can.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word.” He shoves my gun out of the way and gets to his feet. Once I’m sure he’s not going to come at me again, I put it back into its holster and then raise my hands in mock deference.
“Truce?”
“Fuck off.”
Matthew surprises us both by pushing between us, taking my head between his hands. “You’re bleeding.”
“That’s what happens when someone punches me in the face.” Invincibility isn’t one of my many talents. And Jericho is just as trained as I am in where to hit to make it hurt the most. Not an opponent I would ever underestimate.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be fighting,” Matthew remarks. He grips my chin and turns my head, frowning at the cut. “Doesn’t look like it needs stitches, just some cleaning.”
“I didn’t start the fight.” I can control myself, unlike other people in the room. When tensions run high, Jericho is always the first to escalate the situation. That’s his flaw, not mine. I have my own.
“What are you, five?”
Jericho snorts and then morphs his face into a blank expression when Matthew turns the scathing look on him. I can see the teacher coming through. I imagine that look has cowed many a young child into behaving in the classroom.
“Sit down,” Matthew orders, giving me a nudge in the direction of a nearby stool at the breakfast bar. I move without thinking. Now that I’m sitting, we’re roughly the same height. “Let me find some supplies,” he says, almost to himself as he moves away towards the kitchen cupboards.
Jericho blinks at him. I at least can understand the confusion. He’s a mini tornado. A strangely cute one. “He can sort himself out, he’s an adult. I’m here to collect you.”
Matthew turns from the medicine cabinet he’s already found. “M-me?”
“And my daughter? Where did you take her?” There’s no way that Hunter didn’t make arrangements for her before organising Matthew. She’s certainly not here.
“You have no right to call her that.”
“Where is she, Jericho?” I’m not in the mood to play semantics.
I may not be in her life; that doesn’t mean I don’t want her safe.
For Hunter’s sake if nothing else. She’s of my flesh and blood and the one chance that my line has to be something more.
Outside of the sphere of my influence, she has much greater odds of being a better person than I ever could have been.
She’ll have a life away from me, in the way I never had from my own father.
“Spencer and Kendrick have her.” The knowledge soothes my inner beast. Both of them are formidable and will leave a trail of bodies behind them before letting any harm come to her. “Like I said, I’m here for Matthew,” Jericho adds, gesturing at the man still rummaging in the medicine cabinet.
Matthew ignores both of us as he comes back over to me, hands full of bandaging. He dumps it on the counter beside my elbow and then rummages until he comes out with disinfectant and gauze.
“This might sting a little,” he says in a low soothing tone as he pours the liquid onto the gauze. He gently takes my chin and tilts my head down. “I’ll be quick.”
My lips quirk. Is that how he speaks to his students? I don’t need hand-holding or handling. This “little sting” is nothing compared to some of the things I’ve been through.
“Once you’re done there, we can go,” Jericho says in a slightly irritated tone.
Matthew stares straight ahead, almost looking right through me. “No, I’m staying here.”
“… excuse me?”
He places the gauze carefully on the counter and picks up a small, thin bandage. I grasp his wrist and shake my head. “I don’t need that.”
Our eyes meet, and there’s a steel to his that surprises me. And yet doesn’t at the same time. Hunter isn’t generally drawn to weak men. The attraction is starting to make more sense.
“I’m staying here,” he repeats, not looking away.
“With him?” asks Jericho.
“Y-yes.” He wrings his hands in front of himself, grazing my knee. “Hunter and Miles will be back soon, and I’m—I’m safe here.”
“No one is safe with Xavier, least of all you.”
Well, that hurts. Why is he less safe than others? I’m a danger to everyone equally. I worked hard to earn that reputation. The parts I got for free are beyond my control, but I use them to my advantage.
Matthew picks the gauze back up and dabs it against my lip again. I barely feel the sting now, intrigued and amused by his disobedience. I doubt Jericho hears the word “no” all that often. “He won’t hurt me.”
My eyebrow arches at the confidence in those four simple words. Does he truly believe that? He doesn’t know me, and I’ve done a lot of bad things.
“Why don’t you ask him what he does to people he claims to love? And then ask yourself, if he’s capable of that, what will he do to you? He doesn’t even know you.”
Matthew’s movements falter, and then he drops his hand, a wariness in his gaze that should have been there long before now. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he says, not even attempting to move out of my personal space.
“One hair on his head, Xavier. Just one, and I’m coming for you.”
“I believe you tried that already.”
“That wasn’t trying.” With that, Jericho stalks from the room, slamming the back door shut behind him.
Matthew winces. When he tries to step back, I drop a hand on his waist, keeping him there.
“You aren’t safe with me,” I warn him. Far from it.
“I know.” He awkwardly shuffles around the bandaging supplies. “But I don’t know where he was going to take me, and Hunter will be back soon, so…”
“The devil you know?” I say lightly.
“Something like that.” If he stares any harder at the disinfectant, it will spontaneously combust.
Grasping his chin, I turn his head so that he has no choice but to look at me. “Sometimes the devil is who you need. Guardian angels aren’t worth the cloth they wear, not when it comes to the real danger in the world.”
“Until last night, the only dangerous thing I had to worry about was slipping in the shower.”
My thumb presses against his pulse point. His heart is racing. “Does that happen often?”
“Not like a lot, but enough that I guess you could maybe consider it a lot. It’s like that whole ‘if I had a nickel for X, I would have Y nickels,’ which isn’t a lot of nickels, but it’s weird that it happened Y times. You know?”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Oh, and locking myself out of the house—I have a spare key, but I use it, and then I don’t put it back, so then all the keys are lost, and it’s a never-ending dilemma. And kids biting at school. It’s a paperwork nightmare, honestly.”
“A dangerous life you lead.”
He licks his lips in a nervous gesture. “I would have said yes, b-before.”
He glances down at my lips, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I know because I’m thinking about it too.
Will he taste as sweet as he is? A man who is in the arms of a predator and stays even though he’s clearly afraid.
Who stood up against someone who could kill him in the blink of an eye.
For me, someone he doesn’t know, someone who frightens him.
An interesting juxtaposition. One I find myself wanting to explore.
“Before what?” I whisper. It doesn’t take much to coax him to come closer, positioning himself far more snugly between my legs. His breath hitches, hand clutching my side.
“Before…” The anticipation rises every inch I get closer. “I can’t remember,” he breathes out. He freezes at the first touch of my lips against his, eyes wide open and staring. Amazed. Shocked. Wanting.
Beautiful. “Close your eyes, duckling.”
As soon as he does, I capture his lips properly, applying pressure and dragging my tongue across the seam.
He opens, and I sweep inside. His movements are tentative, an exquisite tease I doubt he’s doing deliberately.
A hand clasps my shoulder, the other curling around my lapel.
He sways, leaning in. I swallow every sound he makes, keeping him secure against me.
I don’t think I’ve ever kissed someone as innocent as this man. Or one so unaware of his own appeal.
There’s something sinful in it, of sullying someone this pure. If I were a better man, I would never have allowed this. I’m not, and I won’t be stopping at just one taste. Where’s the indulgence in that?
He shifts in my arms, his outer thigh rubbing my inner. Squirming. Eager. Unsure in a way that’s like a lighthouse beacon on a stormy night at sea. Miles is a virgin, and he still had more confidence than this when he was turning Hunter inside out.
By the time I lift my head, he’s plastered against me, grip so tight he’s pulling at my jacket, clinging. His eyes are glazed over, and it takes him a little time to come down from his high, to focus.
“I—” His lips tremble, red and swollen. “We probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“No?” Doing things I shouldn’t is a personal mantra of mine. Nothing is hidden from me, and if I want it, I take it. Anyone standing in my way will learn to regret it.
My gaze slides down to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Are you sure?”
“I think so. Yes. I don’t know. Why did you do that?”
“For the same reason I do anything. I wanted to.” Outside of Hunter and Miles, it feels like it’s been a lifetime since I’ve wanted to touch another person. Matthew intrigues me. A baby duck with hidden teeth. What else is hidden under that fluff?
Matthew takes a shaky step back when I stand, towering over him. Cupping his cheek, I smooth my thick ring over his skin, back and forth. His lips part with a light sigh, and his blue eyes darken, eyelids fluttering under my touch.
What a delightful creature. I drag my thumb over his bottom lip and dip inside his warm mouth. “Would you like to do it again?”
He tenses, searching my eyes. Looking for a trick, perhaps? There’s no trick here. One taste isn’t anywhere near enough. Knowing that I’ve experienced it before Hunter brings with it an extra layer of deliciousness. What will he think, knowing I’ve plucked the very fruit he’s been admiring?
There’s no resistance as I drag him closer and take his mouth for my own once more.