They were shown to their table, a private booth near the back with a view out over the river exactly as Viggo had requested.
Bjorn and Sebastian took a seat on opposite sides of the table. Bjorn slid in all the way toward the window, expecting Viggo to join him, while Sebastian positioned himself in the middle of the padded seat.
Viggo wasn’t going to have that. He’d let Bjorn have Sebastian practically to himself on the car ride over, and now it was his turn.
“Scoot over,” he instructed, sliding in next to Sebastian before he’d had time to comply, shouldering him toward the window and sliding him across the seat.
Bjorn rolled his eyes.
“These booths are a little cramped for me and Bjorn to sit together,” he said, patting Sebastian on his thigh, letting his hand linger. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Sebastian shook his head, swallowing noisily, his face red. “No, this is fine.”
“Good.” Viggo curled his fingers down and slid his hand up, cupping Sebastian’s inner thigh dangerously close to his crotch. “You’re so accommodating. I like it.”
He lifted his hand from Sebastian’s thigh and let it rest on the seat between them, the back of his fingers brushing against the fabric of Sebastian’s chinos.
Before Sebastian could respond – not that he looked like he had anything to say to Viggo’s comment – their waiter appeared to take their drink order and to hand them their menus. Sebastian grabbed his menu like a lifeline, burying his nose in it and using it to hide his face.
Bjorn shot Viggo a glare, to which Viggo flashed his teeth in a grin.
“Do you know what you’d like?” Bjorn asked Sebastian after giving him a few minutes to study the menu.
“Maybe the grilled chicken?” Sebastian said, sounding unsure. He put the menu down on the table and took a sip of his water. “That looks pretty good.”
Viggo opened the menu, not having bothered to do so before since he already knew what he was going to order, and located the chicken. As he’d suspected, it was the cheapest entre they had, and compared to all the delicious cuts of steak on order, it did not look pretty good.
“You don’t like steak?” he asked, his wolf giving a rumble of discontent at the very idea of someone not liking meat.
“No, I do,” Sebastian said, looking down at the menu again. “It’s just… really expensive.”
Bjorn looked bewildered by the statement, while Viggo cursed himself for his blunder. Olivia’s wasn’t a particularly pretentious restaurant, but it had a Michelin star and its prices reflected that. It hadn’t occurred to him that Sebastian might feel uncomfortable.
“It’s on me,” Viggo told him, moving his hand up to Sebastian’s neck and giving it a squeeze. “Order whatever you want.”
Sebastian licked his lips and nodded, picking his menu back up and scanning it again.
“What are you guys having?”
“Rib-eye,” Viggo and Bjorn said at the same time. Viggo adding, “Extra rare, with the summer vegetables and mushrooms on the side.”
“That sounds good, except for the extra rare part.” Sebastian looked at his menu with an adorable furrow in his brow. “I think I’ll have the tenderloin, if that’s all right? With the roast potatoes?”
Viggo grinned down at him. “Sounds excellent.”
18
SEBASTIAN
Sipping his wine, Sebastian watched Viggo and Bjorn tear into their bloody steaks with horrified fascination. The meat was practically raw, a fact which both massive werewolves seemed to relish, and Sebastian could have sworn that their canine teeth were both sharper and longer than they had been before the steaks had been put in front of them.
“Good?” Bjorn asked, mouth full and nodding down at Sebastian’s medium-rare tenderloin. A dribble of clear juice ran down his chin.
“Very,” Sebastian answered, watching Bjorn’s powerful jaw work as he tore into another piece of beef. He put down his glass and cut into his steak, trying to savor every bite.
It was probably the best steak Sebastian had ever put in his mouth, the meat so tender and flavorful that it made him want to moan in sheer pleasure.
“I’m glad you like it,” Viggo said, drawing Sebastian’s attention. He’d demolished his steak and was getting started on his vegetables, his leg pressing up against Sebastian’s under the table.
