Luce drops his hands back to his sides, groaning. “It’s always something with you three.”
I tsk, setting a hand on his thigh and teasing to keep him from leaving. “Now, now, you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Stay, blow a load off.” He narrows his eyes at me while I correct myself. “Takea load off, sorry. Humans and their phrases trip me up sometimes.”
Dorian fake coughs as he flops down on my other side. “Bullshit.”
I hush them both, getting a huge kick out of the entire thing. It’s clear Atlas has never done something like this before, but hell, he’s sure giving it a solid go instead of half-assing it like I expected.
He slowly peels off his shirt and tosses it to the side between dancing before moving on to unbutton his jeans. I don’t care who you are; it’s damn near impossible to sexily pull off jeans while dancing. We all end up breaking character when he stumbles, laughing and kicking them aside. He stays in his boxers for the rest of the song, but damn, color me impressed. The other two loosen up and start playing into it, whistling and tossing singles at him.
He prowls over to grind against me, ignoring the others and nipping at my ear. “I’m getting you back for this one, little fae. Just you wait.”
Shivering with anticipation, a thrill runs through me with his promise. He steps back and gathers his clothes, bowing dramatically as the song comes to an end. I get to my feet clapping and he chucks his shirt at my face, but I carry on anyway.
“Not sure why you’re so upset, that was shockingly good.”
He tugs his jeans back on, rolling his eyes. “Trust me; it would have been better if it was you.”
I hand him his shirt back and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Nah, I’d break my neck on that thing.”
He rolls his eyes, calling me out on my lie, and captures my mouth. His kiss is harsh, full of the promise of revenge, yet at the same time swearing protection. It’s as complicated as the man giving it and I greedily take all he has to offer.
“I’ve got to get up early for work, so why don’t you go spend some time with Luce?” he offers in a whisper. “I got you all day, but you’ve barely seen him since we got back, and I can tell you miss him.”
As I open my mouth to protest, he silences me with another kiss, this one softer. “Don’t make it into a thing. I’m not being jealous, angel. I think you both need some time, okay?”
He heads off to bed since he needs to get up at four a.m., but Dorian stays in the living room with us as I move towards the couch. Dorian promptly drags me onto his lap and I lean into him, savoring the way Luce’s jaw ticks. Like he tends to at any opportunity, he threads his fingers through my hair. I’m not sure if he’s just obsessed with feeling the silky strands or it’s an unconscious habit, but I adore it.
“You should have seen the way she showed up that kid today, Luce,” Dorian taunts, making me sound like an asshole.
I shudder in horror at the memory. “To be fair, I’m pretty sure anyone could have.”
All fae are attuned to nature to a degree, but we’re also influenced by our abilities. Like those that have an affinity for fire magic naturally have an aversion to water, since most of my powers are influenced by music, it physically hurt to hear that song being mangled. I’m fortunate enough to have multiple abilities, but it’s the most defining root of my magic. If Atlas really wanted to get revenge, he could just butcher some Tchaikovsky and leave me puking for the afternoon.
“I shouldn’t be surprised you play more than piano,” Lucien finally says with a smile after Dorian finishes regaling him with the tale. Honestly, I don’t find it nearly as interesting as he seems to, but I’m not about to turn away the appreciation in his gaze.
I squirm on Dorian’s lap, getting more comfortable and reveling in the power it gives me to be able to make him hard without doing more than sit here. He hisses in a breath as I shift again and grin, blinking at him unrepentantly.
“Sorry, D. Want me to sit somewhere else while we catch up?”
His arms band tighter around my waist. “Not even a little.”
Lucien’s mask fractures enough to let a sliver of jealousy shine through. I pretend not to notice, drawing him back into the conversation.
“Maybe tomorrow you can come with us ring hunting?”
The jealousy is still there, but now it’s blended with his frustration. “I can’t. I need to finish a few things.” He runs and agitated hand through his dark hair.
I don’t crawl over to him, not yet. “I could come to work with you, help you finish things up faster, and we could go in the afternoon?”
He swipes an agitated hand down his face, getting up and heading into the kitchen. “No, it’s more important to find the new crossover point. Me being there won’t help us find one any quicker since we need to follow your lead, so you shouldn’t waste time at the office. Divide and conquer.”
There’s a brief stab of rejection no matter how much I know he doesn’t mean it the way I’m taking it. He’s running based solely off of logic, on practicality, but still. It hurts.
“Luce,” Dorian whispers, but he may as well have shouted into the silence overtaking the room.
Lucien returns with a raised eyebrow, waiting to see what he wants, because it’s clear he’s looking at things from a completely different perspective than we are. And honestly? I have trouble voicing that it stings.
Years of being called an attention whore, despite needing it to survive. It doesn’t need to be positive, as my parents made abundantly clear, though. Even negative attention is enough to sustain me, just barely, but keeps me from dying. It just messes with my head as much as making me sick, hence why I spent a few days licking my wounds.
