Enzo’s brows furrowed together. “Why do you say that like I just said I planned to kill and eat him?”
Lucky gave a derisive snort. “Compared to dating you, cannibalism might be kinder.”
He wasn’t wrong. Hurtful, but not wrong.
Enzo grinned.
“Whatever. Your date’s biggest danger is deflating, so keep your dating advice to yourself.”
Lucky gave him a hard stare. “You’re serious. You’re gonna keep him around?You? Have you ever had a relationship that didn’t have an expiration date? At least since?—”
“Have you ever had one that didn’t require an air pump?” Enzo fired back, cutting him off.
Lucky’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “For the last fucking time, I told you it was an initiation prank. I don’t fuck blow-up dolls.”
“No judgment,” Enzo said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers threading together across his flat stomach. No amount of deflecting could make Lucky less right. Enzo hadn’t had a serious relationship in over a decade and he didn’t plan on starting now. That was why he played at his brother’s club. He was married to his job. Relationships took too much of his time, and no matter how much he warned his partners in advance, they all grew too clingy, too needy.
Aftercare was one thing, but Enzo didn’t have time to deal with all the drama that came with relationships. It was always the same thing. Hurt feelings over canceled plans, crying when he wouldn’t bring them to meet his family, fury because he was secretive and tended to leave home at all hours of the night. He got why they were upset, but that was why he just stayed single.
Now, he just played with people who understood there were terms and conditions to being with him for longer than a one-night stand. Seven had been the exception to his rule, but the more Enzo thought of him—which was often—the more he realized Seven was kind of perfect.
The beauty of Seven was that he already knew Enzo wasn’t who he said he was. He understood the need for secrecy. He could be around without fear of him overhearing something that might shock him or cause him to turn on Enzo and destroy their family.
They could both get something out of this.Ifhe was willing to meet Enzo’s stipulations. Would he be willing? Would he see how this could be a beneficial thing…for both of them? Seven had lefthimthat morning. He had to see the benefit. Right?
At least, that was what Enzo had decided when, out of the blue, Seven had texted him again last night. It wasn’t much, just three letters delivered ten minutes before midnight:
WYD.
What you doing?Enzo had stared at it for an hour, a smirk on his face. Did the kid think he would invite him over again? Exchange dick pics? Was he looking for another hook-up? Enzo disavowed him of that idea with just two words.
Try again.
He’d jerked off later with memories of Seven crying beneath him, then went to sleep without checking to see if he’d responded. In the morning, there was nothing. Enzo had only shrugged and gotten ready for work. It had been a little past ten-thirty when he’d received a new message.
Brat Baby
How’s your day going? Did you sleep well?
God, that was so cute. Enzo had rewarded Seven’s good behavior by responding promptly.
Busy. I slept about as well as I usually do. How’s your day, brat baby?
Seven responded back immediately.
Brat Baby
Classes were canceled. Bomb scare. I’m bored.
Enzo should have made him wait. He should have given him a polite response and then held back a few days before giving him any attention for both their sakes. Instead, he’d invited him to lunch that same day.
Better to rip off the Band-Aid now and see if he was even willing to play the way Enzo wanted. It was better to be upfront about what he was willing to give.
Lucky rolled his eyes. “You and Vince are a whole other level of twisted. I don’t know how you two turned out to be such freaks while the rest of us are normal.”
Their younger brother, Vince, owned an underground BDSM club.Lost Eden. Enzo preferred to find his playmates there since the rules were well established before anyone—them—might catch feelings. Seven was out of Enzo’s comfort zone, but there was just something about the kid he couldn’t resist, in or out of bed.
