Finn tugs on his expensive dress pants and sits on the black leather chair, holding out a hand.
“Please, don’t let me interrupt.” He looks smug, and I hate feeling on the outside of whatever this issue between them is.
“Do you need another drink?” Ian asks, and I shake my head.
He sits down and tugs me onto his lap, his warm hands rubbing down my back as his nose rubs along the side of my face before he whispers in my ear.
“Sorry about my brother,mo stór.Ignore him, that’s what I do.”
Easier said than done, when a six foot-five man with piercing green eyes won’t stop staring at you, not to mention the way you’re sitting on his twin brother’s lap.
“Is he mad about the money you spent?” I ask, looking up at Ian.
He shakes his head and smiles. How can his demeanor be the complete opposite of Finn’s? There must be some major nature vs. nurture shit going on with these two.
“Money is not an issue.”
“Then what’s his problem?”
“I’m sitting right here,” Finn says in a bored tone.
“Well aware,” I grumble under my breath, and Ian’s smile widens even further. It makes me wonder if people don’t often stand up to his brother. I’d imagine they don’t, with the tattoos, the scar, and the serious glare he has on his face right now.
Finn’s finger is tapping impatiently against the side of his glass, and I realize he’s focusing more on his brother than he is on me.
I decide to blatantly ignore the Alpha and turn my body on Ian’s lap so that he has my full attention. I tug on the lapels of his suit jacket before straightening them out.
“I didn’t know when you’d be back.”
“Have you been good?” he asks.
“Very,” I reply, wiggling in his lap.
His lips graze the shell of my ear again, no doubt so his brother can’t overhear our conversation.
“Tell me, did anyone try to touch what belongs to me?”
That has me shivering. My disgraceful Omega nature wants to embrace his sense of ownership, while my newfound feminism wants to tell him to fuck off.
Omega nature always wins.
“Yes,” I whisper. I was approached multiple times, but politely declined. I kinda like this whole jealous-irritated thing he’s doing right now.
“Do you know their names?”
“No, and I didn’t do anything.”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” he gloats confidently.
He may as well have told me I’m perfect with those words, and I shift on his lap once more. I’m trying to enjoy myself despite his brother’s piercing gaze against my back.
“Is he going to go somewhere else?” I ask, and Ian laughs, shaking his head.
“I’m stuck with him, I’m afraid.”
“Since birth? That had to have been rough,” I tease, and Ian laughs again.
His eyes track behind me as Finn gets up from his seat before leaning down to get into our faces, his hands gripping the side of the chair we’re sitting in as he takes another inhale of my scent. I swallow thickly as I look at the agitated expression written on his face.
