Page 24 of Blades and Bone

He swallowed, suddenly feeling out of his depth. He played through everything Brodie had said to him. Every calm and reassuring word…no doubt he would use the same tone as he carefully wrapped that purple rope around his wrists.

If it came to a fight with Brodie, he was no longer sure that he would win. It was too easy to imagine himself struggling and pushing, while Brodie would be measured and smooth, keeping control until he tired himself out and gave in. None of which sounded terrible.

It should be terrible.

He should hate the idea of letting an Ashby tie him up and do whatever he wanted with him.

At what point had Brodie planned to share this information?

Hamish rolled to his feet, fangs down, cock hard, torn between hungry curiosity and the understanding that he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into by snooping too hard.

He needed to get out of the fucking house.

But he couldn’t go out looking like he was ready to hunt. He grabbed the lube off the bed and walked into the bathroom, stepping into the shower. He’d rub one out, which would sort out his dick and fangs, then he’d leave and find something to do. It was a resort, and Brodie had told him to have fun as if it was a holiday.

He unzipped his jeans and shoved down his briefs, giving himself just enough lube to smooth each quick stroke. It didn’t help that he wasn’t sure if he’d been in trouble for finding the toys, because then it was too easy to imagine what the punishment might involve. He tried to block it out, tried not to think of Brodie at all, but he heard his voice whispering in his ear, cool and calm like everything, including him, was under control.

He came on the tiles with a groan, knowing that even though he wasn’t getting fucked, he was absolutely fucked.

Chapter Thirteen

Brodie was unsurprised when the security guard he’d ordered to tail Hamish reported that he’d left the house. He was, however, surprised that it had taken so long for him to leave; there was a part of him that expected Hamish to go directly to where the Reids were staying and where the meeting on the Orlan situation was being held, but he appeared to be smarter than that.

Though not much smarter since he left resort property and entered the ocean. Sure, it was a technicality, as that stretch of ocean was right in front of the resort, but it was still a breach of the rules he had set in place.

It was midafternoon before the meetings were done, and Brodie made his way to where the staff and surfboards were. He saw the security guard sitting beneath an umbrella to the side, dressed like a guest with a book that he wasn’t reading in his hand. Brodie didn’t stop to talk to him. Just followed his eye line to where a dark-haired man was making the most of small but consistent waves. They were, what he’d been told, excellent beginner waves.

Hamish was not a beginner; that much was in his file, and he’d already been out there for hours as if he didn’t care about the blood he’d consumed yesterday and the effects it might be having. Or perhaps he didn’t care about being a little sunburned.

Brodie crossed his arms, his eyebrows drawing together. Did he wait?

Or did he go home and see what chaos leaving Hamish on his own had wrought?

He glanced at the guard. “When he’s done, tell him I’m waiting at home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brodie didn’t care if Hamish returned blistered from his day in the sun. That wasn’t his problem to deal with. It was better Hamish vent his frustrations on the ocean than on him—he had more than enough to deal with.

At first glance, when he walked into the house, everything appeared to be in place. Only a few small details indicated it had been searched. The first was the CD on the coffee table. The next, a crooked shoe in the wardrobe and the way his jackets were slightly askew.

The rest of the evidence was on the bed.

He put his hands on his hips and stared at the mess. Hamish had been more thorough than expected. In the bathroom, he found the tube of lube with the cap still open. A smile curved his lips. Someone had gotten careless.

He deliberated whether he should pick it up and toss it back on the bed or leave it there for Hamish to deal with. He decided on the latter—in fact, he would make Hamish clean up this entire mess.

He showered, changed into a pair of lightweight track pants and a T-shirt, opened a bottle of wine, picked up his book, and sat down to wait. He could be very patient.

* * *

As it turned out, he didn’t need to be. Hamish walked in the door an hour later, skin pink and a smile on his lips that persisted even after he spotted Brodie on the sofa. Brodie hadn’t even finished his glass of wine.

He placed the bookmark between the pages and set the book on the coffee table. “Did you have a good day?”

“Productive. You?” Hamish left his flip-flops haphazardly by the front door.

Brodie let the shoes slide for the moment. “Getting there, though I don’t think we’re close to a solution regarding our mutual problem.”