“Baxter’s my best friend in the world. I practically live here some months. I know everything about her and this house.” I smiled at him. “D’you want a drink?”
He tugged me closer and instead of answering me, kissed me again, slow and deep. When I felt the renewed stirrings of my greedy dick, I reluctantly pulled away. His eyes were bright, open, and so pretty, I had to blink and look away. Fuck, I could fall for this man. I wasn’t sure I should even be considering the idea, not when I had a whole bunch of feelings for James I barely had a handle on. I wrapped a hand around Trace’s long hair and gave it a considered tug.
“Maybe we should check on James.”
He took my hand. “We should. And yes, I would like a drink, but upstairs.”
In the doorway to the ballroom I squeezed his fingers. “I’d like you to call me Eddie.”
19
JAMES
Like iron filings to a magnet,I turned as he came through the door. Hector, who’d been telling me scandalous stories about London in the 1920s and his adventures as a stableman in a big East End coal yard, followed my gaze as I stared across the room.
“You’ve got it bad, kid,” he said when I turned back to apologise I’d not heard the last thing he said. “Go get your man before he comes over to growl at me.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Hector laughed and spun me around once more, saying into my ear, “He’s a good guy. Let yourself believe in him. I’ve never seen him like this. You can trust he wants you.” Then he evidently saw Edwin and Trace’s linked fingers at the same time I did. His tone turned protective, unexpected for someone I’d only known for about an hour. “Did you know about this, James?”
I nodded, my heart in my throat. “Yeah, I did. Trace is good people.”I think.More clearly, because this part was definitely true, I said, “I want Edwin to be happy. I can’t give him everything he needs.”
“Hmm.” Hector slid an arm around me, which should have been terrifying from a partial stranger who was also a vampire and built like a tank, but was in fact oddly reassuring. “Like Isaid, Eddie’s a good guy, but don’t let him sideline you. You’re sweet, James. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m not sweet!” I protested, but Hector had already let me go and given me a gentle push towards the other two. I didn’t like the way the floor flexed as I walked, but no matter, I’d deal with that weird detail later.
We met in the middle of the ballroom, Edwin and Trace’s hands still linked, which made a ball ofsomethingtwist in my gut. I wasn’t sure if it was envy or longing or just plain lust, but it lodged there, heavy, aware, pulsing like a cartoon heart.
“Hey, you.” Edwin reached out to me with his free hand, his cool fingers encircling my nape. I tipped forwards and melted into him instantly, all jealousies forgotten with one touch.
I could smell Trace on him. It was unfamiliar, but also not. I stayed with my nose buried in his shirt while I tried to work through my thoughts about this new development. I’d pushed them together, insisted Edwin get laid, which I knew he was gagging for — my hearing was for shit, but even I knew the sounds of a man fucking himself to orgasm in the shower, thank you, my new porn browsing history — so really I should be happy for him.
I glanced up out of screwed-up eyes at Trace, who was standing very still, as if unsure how to act. I heaved a sigh and pulled myself upright. I looked at both of them in turn.
“Did it feel right, the two of you?” The words burned as I said them, but I needed to know.
“It did, love. It felt good.” Edwin glanced at Trace as if for confirmation. Trace gave me a small nod, saying nothing out loud, but his eyes were smiling. Edwin caressed my neck with his thumb. “Are you still okay about this, or do we need to go somewhere and talk some more?”
“I’m okay,” I assured him quickly. I realised Iwas.Edwin looked relaxed in a way I’d not seen for ages, as if some part ofhim had been out of alignment and was now reset. It suddenly clicked that this was not just about sex. It never had been, not really. It was aboutus, all three of us.
“I need a drink,” I exclaimed. Loudly, if the heads that turned my way were any indication. I removed Edwin’s hand from my neck and took it in my own. “I really am fine about this, but I can’t do this here.” I ambled unsteadily to the drinks table and grabbed a lager from an ice bucket, smacking the top off and not caring that it pinged off the table and onto the floor as I kept walking. I turned in the opposite direction from the stairs, all too soon finding myself at a dead end, with what looked like huge picture windows hidden behind locked shutters and ornate, heavy curtains. I sighed and leaned against the wall, watching Edwin and Trace slowly approach as I dribbled ice cold beer into my dry mouth.
“Have we royally fucked up?” Edwin’s blue eyes were clouded with apprehension. I took another swig, then wiped the back of my hand across my mouth.
“I don’t think so. No, it’s not that. I’m…” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was thinking, let alone able to put it into words. “I want to get drunk and forget I’m such a fucking liability.” Now I thought about it, I’d sunk a few large vodkas in quick succession while chatting to Hector. For all my earlier assertion I wasn’t going to drink, my nerves had been crawling with tension thinking about what Edwin had been doing, how he’d looked and sounded when Trace had… I flung my arm across my face, shielding my eyes.When the pair of them had fucked like I suggested they should.
“Liability? You’re not a liability. Has someone said something?” Edwin’s tone suggested bewilderment and a degree of anger. I liked him defensive and protective of me. God, I really was a mess.
“James?” Trace, sounding concerned, invaded my space. “What can we do?”
I hadn’t answered Edwin’s question. What was it? “Take me to bed?”
Edwin swooped, the sudden rush of cool air surrounding me forcing me to lower my arm and stare at his worried expression as he grasped me by my shoulders. “We can do that, but are you sure?”
“I don’t think he means to get his freak on,” Trace explained, his eyebrows furrowed.
Edwin relaxed his hold on me fromvampire strength ouchto a more bearable firm grasp that still stung. I flexed, and he grimaced apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“Bed,” I repeated, now fixated on the idea of a firm mattress and a cool pillow on which to lay my head. “I’m a bit tipsy. Not hurting. Everything is kinda fuzzy.”
