Chapter 14
Bastian left Eleanor standing at the bar as he made his way to the VIP area.
She followed his directions to a T, innocently sipping her cocktail without actually swallowing any of it.
They’d only lingered for two minutes, pretending to make small talk, before he’d dismissed himself.
It was harder than he realized, turning his back on her, but his magic held.
He could feel it channeling through the gold ring like a conduit, a steady siphon of power.
No one would bother her.
His fist clenched and unclenched, restless. The irrational part of him was spun tight, ready to pounce on anyone who got too close. He needed to leash himself, remind himself that she wasn’t his. Aside from protecting her, everything else shouldn’t matter.
He approached the four bouncers guarding Aramis’s area.
“Boss’s expecting you,” Derek said, unclipping the red rope that acted as a barrier. He nodded, walking by. Through the conduit, he sent a flare of heat—Eleanor’s signal.
“Bastian,” Aramis growled, getting to his feet, greeting him like an old friend.
He was several inches taller and built like a powerhouse.
Most fae scorned half breeds, especially goblins, but Aramis had never been like that.
Males like Aramis couldn’t afford to be like that, given who he was.
“Almost expected you to ride in on your bike, like last time.” The fae strode forward and clapped him on the back.
“Don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of you riding that thing down the stairs and scaring the shit out of my patrons. ”
“I brought something better this time,” he said, returning the greeting.
“Oh? That pretty fae kitten you walked in with? Where is she? Afraid I might bite?”
“Something like that.”
Aramis motioned him forward and they took their seats.
“Come now, I certainly hope you won’t keep her hidden all night.”
“I have no intention of that. Surely you know me better, Aramis.” His gaze turned toward the dance floor. From where they sat, they had a direct line of sight. There she was, right on cue. The head of pink hair bobbed through the crowd, right toward the middle of the floor.
“What will you have to drink?” Aramis asked, not yet having noticed. He’d already downed his whiskey at the bar, so he requested another. Aramis gave the order to the server on call, who momentarily stepped away to fulfill it.
He hadn’t taken his eyes from Eleanor. Aramis finally noticed and chuckled. “Ah. Not hidden at all. Excellent.”
Eleanor started to dance. It happened gradually at first. The initial moments went unnoticed, but as she began to move, stretching and swaying, moving like a cat waking from a nap, a trance settled over those nearest to her.
If he weren’t absolutely certain she was human, he’d wonder if she might have siren blood, or something of the sort, the way she captured attention.
Beside him, Aramis was silent, shrewd eyes missing nothing.
Good.
The crowd pushed further away, giving her room. Some continued dancing, while others stopped simply to watch. Her movements came faster, timed to the rhythm of the beat, growing more erotic.
His cock twitched. He inhaled, using the breath to steady him. The server appeared with his drink. He took it without looking up.
“My, my,” Aramis purred. “Where have you been hiding her? Had I known, I’d have invited you back sooner.”
His lungs expanded, eyes pinned to Eleanor’s body. As he watched, everything else disappeared. She was magnificent.
His body reacted, blood pounding, dropping straight to his cock.
His mind raced through scenarios, each more outrageous than the last. Licking up the column of her neck, tasting the pulse that raced there.
Wrapping his hands around her hips, grinding her against him.
Listening to her make those sweet sounds he’d heard earlier.
If she sounded like that eating his food, what would she sound like riding his cock?
His muscles twitched. He felt a strange urge to stand, to go to her, to wrap his body around hers and dance.
He blinked and the moment fractured. How was it possible that this little human could entrance him? However she did it, it wasn’t good. His jaw clenched, irritation rising.
She was human. She didn’t belong to him. Even if she wasn’t part of an ongoing investigation, she could never be—would never be—more than a casual fuck. She deserved more than that—especially from him. So why did he want, so badly, to give her exactly what she deserved?
Eleanor held Aramis’s attention. The spicy smell of arousal struck Bastian’s nose. He ripped his gaze away, turning to look at Aramis, eyes widening as he made the realization.
Unusual. Very unusual…
A cruel smile pulled at his lips. Careful to keep her glamor intact for everyone around her, he removed it so that Aramis could see exactly what she was.
A hiss split the silence. Aramis jerked, then narrowed his eyes. “Human?” he spat. “You brought a fucking human into my club?”
Bastian’s smile widened. “And yet she charmed you. Aroused you.”
If he were anyone else to Aramis, the consequences might have been deadly. Instead—
“Well now,” Aramis huffed, shaking his head. He knew he’d been beaten. “Well played Bas. Well played, indeed.”
“Did you not tell me once, and I quote, ‘No human will ever set foot in my club’?”
“I did. And yet, you found a way to smuggle one in. Caris is going to have a field day with this. He really didn’t see it?”
“No. I glamoured her.”
“Damn. All right—I’ll give you this one.
We’re even.” Aramis chuckled, then shook his head, ripping his gaze from the pink-haired beauty to add, “Your abilities never cease to amaze me. Derek, Nils!” Two of the four bouncers walked over.
“See that the woman with the pink hair is escorted over—safely, please.”
They nodded and moved away.
Bastian started, frowning, but kept his mouth closed.
He watched as the bouncers parted the crowd.
He hadn’t expected Aramis to be so interested, interested enough to summon her.
He sent a warning signal of heat to the ring.
If Eleanor noticed, she didn’t let on, just kept dancing.
When the bouncers appeared before her, she stopped.
One of them spoke, not getting too close.
Her eyes darted over, and he nodded, letting her know it was okay, sending another flare of heat into the ring.
She allowed them to escort her over, climbing the short set of stairs. Aramis stood to greet her, Bastian did not. “You are a true gem,” Aramis cooed, taking her hand, kissing her knuckles.
Heat flashed through Bastian. And anger, too, at the sight of another male touching her. He leaned forward. A quiet growl rose in his throat. Aramis hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. The jerk grinned, dropping her hand and spinning away. “What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t rile you?”
“Sugar, come here.” His voice came out rough, gravelly.
He held out a hand for her, coaxing her over.
Her eyes fixed on his. She walked over, mini skirt swishing.
Everything around them disappeared at the sight of her before him.
The warmth of her skin spread across his hand.
He moved before thinking, pulling her into his lap, positioning her so they both faced Aramis, who had his back turned, speaking in a hushed voice to the server.
Eleanor went rigid against him, her muscles tight.
He snaked his hands around her, splaying one over her bare thigh, the other over her stomach.
“Relax, sweetheart. Remember what we discussed,” he said, pitching his voice low.
A shiver went through her. He let his lips linger, then brushed them over the shell of her ear, along the glamoured point, before nipping.
She went rigid again and a small whimper fell from her mouth.
His cock twitched.
All of this was an excuse, a pathetic one, but an excuse nonetheless.
It hadn’t been part of his initial plan, which was simply that she would dance while they talked.
The game had changed. Who was he to let a good opportunity go to waste?
Besides, he wanted to make it very clear in front of Aramis, she belonged to him.
“Now, where were we?” Aramis asked, sitting.
“You were going tell me why I’m here,” Bastian said.
His thumb traced circles on Eleanor’s thigh.
She exhaled, relaxing into him with each brush of his thumb over her skin.
The weight of her body against his tested his focus.
Before he realized it, his thumb on her stomach was also moving back and forth, caressing that bare slip of skin. She was so…soft.
“Ah, yes. Well, I’ll speak plainly, then.”
The server rushed over with a tray—a glass of water. He offered it to Eleanor. “Oh,” she said, breathless, reaching for it.
His hackles rose. He grabbed the glass before she could. She leaned around to glare. He lifted it, sniffed, then handed it to her.
Aramis scoffed. “Come now, Bastian. You insult me. You think I’d give her anything but water? You are my guests. I’ve called you here for a favor. Fuck. I’m not a heartless asshole.”
“Can’t be too certain. Haven’t survived this long by being careless.”
Understanding dawned on Eleanor’s face. Her glare slipped away. “It’s okay?” she whispered, tentative, regarding him with wide, trusting, doe-eyes.
“It’s safe, sugar.” His voice came out more tender than he’d intended. Unable to stop himself, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind the point of her ear. He still preferred them rounded.
She shivered against him—an effect of his touch that made his mouth go dry. When she shifted, righting herself again, the friction against his dick had him gritting his teeth.
“Carry on, Aramis,” he said, forcing his focus away from Eleanor.