For example, it didn’t think that ignoring Arkady—one of the Abascal—would end well, and Cash was going to do it anyhow.
He got out of the car and pointedly ignored his guest as he stalked toward the house. Before he could get there, the passenger door swung open.
“Get in the car,” Arkady said from the shadows inside the cab.
“I already told you,” Cash said. He’d stopped, some old hook in his spine unable to resist the habit of doing what Arkady told him, but he refused to look at the car. “No. I don’t owe your family anything.”
“Casper,” Arkady said, voice thick as honey with seduction. The name had been his dad’s joke, before he fucked off forever. Casper the Friendly Wisp. Cash had always hated it, and Arkady always made it sound… important. “I need you.”
“I don’t care,” Cash said. “Find someone else to do your scut work.”
He bullied his legs forward and ignored the itch of guilt in the back of his skull as he fumbled his key into the lock. The thing was, he did owe the Abascals something. He was the only one who knew that, though, and he had no intention of sharing. It stillpickedat him.
The lock finally gave in and opened. Cash put his hand to the wood, and something hit him from behind and flung him into the house. He staggered forward, tripped over his stack of bags, and pitched face-first toward the floor. Before he could land, Arkady grabbed him by the back of his T-shirt and hauled him up.
Cash dangled there for a second, toes just about on the ground and the seams of the T-shirt digging in under his armpits, and then Arkady let him drop.
“Get the fuck off me,” Cash bristled, even though Arkady already had. His monster prickled against his skin, offended at being manhandled in its own lair. Likeprey.Cash yanked his shirt straight and turned to glare up at Arkady. “What’s wrong with you? I told you no. Go bully someone else into doing your bidding. Make a deal. Ask Donna to loan you a minion. Get yourwifeto do it.”
That was a mistake. Cash knew that even before the sliver of gold flickered in Arkady’s eyes. It burned away a line of honey to leave sulfur, and he grabbed Cash’s jaw in one hand.
“Is this why you’re being pissy with me?” Arkady asked. He tilted Cash’s head back and leaned down to brush his lips over Cash’s mouth. It was barely a kiss, but Cash still felt it all the way down to his cock—a hot spill of awareness that prickled his skin and reminded him what it felt like, whatArkadyfelt like. “Because you’re jealous?”
“I told you,” Cash said. “I don’t care.”
He was a good liar. When you could see through other people’s lies, you picked up what worked and what didn’t. He’d always been able to lie to Arkady, even when he hadn’t really wanted to. The Abascals had never learned to care about what people really thought or why they lied. Why should they?
Only one problem.
Cash wrapped his hand around the back of Arkady’s neck, fingers buried in the short nap of cropped hair, and pulled him down into a real kiss. He chewed Arkady’s lips open and chased the salt-and-cinnamon prickle of Abascal magic past his teeth and into his mouth. Tongues tangled, wet and slick, and Cash tightened his fingers around the scruff of Arkady’s neck. He could feel the tendons and the long straps of muscle taut under the warm golden skin.
It was rough, impatient, and hungry—all teeth, irritation, and twelvefuckingyears of not doing it. It was exactly the same and completely different. The fine gold stubble that scruffed Arkady’s jaw was rough against Cash’s mouth, and his shoulders were broader, heavy with lean muscle under his finely tailored suit.
And Cash? How was he different, he wondered distractedly. From the familiar ache in the back of his neck, he knew he wasn’t any taller.Stillfamiliar, for fuck’s sake.
Arkady twisted his fingers in Cash’s hair and pulled his head back to bare the tight line of his throat. Cash whined in protest as the kiss was broken, then strangled the sound in frustration. He was always the one who wanted… more.
“I like this,” Arkady said mildly as he tightened his grip in dark curls. His knuckles pressed against Cash’s skull—not hard enough to hurt, but the thought was there. It made Cash squirm. “You always wore it short before.”
“Because assholes pull on it,” Cash said tartly.
Arkady chuckled, pulled Cash’s head back farther, and kissed his way down until he could nuzzle the thin skin under Cash’s jaw. Anxiety peaked in a metallic adrenaline rush as Cash felt sharp teeth pinch his jugular. All it would take would be a little bit of pressure and his throat would be torn out. It made Cash’s knees weak, and he swallowed raggedly as the hot flush of hunger washed through him.
The first time they kissed, Cash was sixteen and cocky, sure he was about to wrap the reserved Abascal scion around his finger. It turned out that knowing what he was doing had done him absolutely no good in the long run. Or short run. Arkady had always been a quick learner.
Arkady curled his free hand around Cash’s hip and pulled him in closer. His erection nudged against Cash’s stomach.
“You’re going to do what I tell you,” Arkady said roughly.
For a lust-dazed second, Cash almost said yes. He caught the word on the tip of his tongue and tried to squirm away. Arkady let him.
“You’re an asshole,” Cash said. “I’m not going to get involved in Abascal business again just because you kissed me.”
Arkady looked amused as he put his hands in his pockets. “You kissed me,” he pointed out. “Casper—”
“Cash.”
Arkady rolled his eyes. “If you insist. Cash. You know I still want you now. Are you going to hear me out?”
