Just a Bit Wicked (Straight Guys Book 7)

by Alessandra Hazard

Annoyed with himself, Vlad averted his gaze, fixing it on the TV.

  Thirty seconds later, he found himself staring at Sebastian again.

  There was a tiny mole on Sebastian’s pale neck, next to the faint reddish mark. The mark his teeth and lips had left.

  Vlad looked away.

  Maybe the reason for his frustration was the lack of open confrontation. Since Sebastian had decided to pretend their little trip hadn’t happened, Vlad hadn’t been given an opportunity to tell Sebastian that the sex meant nothing. He wished Sebastian would just confront him and call him gay so he could deny it.

  But Sebastian wouldn’t even look at him, and boy, did it piss him off. He wanted to stand up, walk over to Sebastian and shake him, push him around, pin him to the couch under him and—

  Vlad stood up and left the living room quickly. He rapped his knuckles against the study’s door and pushed it open. “Are you going out today?” he said.

  Luke lifted his eyes from his laptop, a phone pressed to his ear. “One moment, Andrew,” he said, setting the phone down. “I’m working from home today,” he told Vlad, frowning. “Roman asked me to. Why? Is there a problem?”

  Vlad wished he could say yes. He wished he could tell Luke he needed to leave the flat immediately so Vlad could leave with him, get away from Sebastian and his skin, his mouth, and his eyes. Hell, he almost wished for Charves’s people to be spotted in the neighborhood.

  “No,” Vlad said. “Just getting stir-crazy.”

  He shut the door firmly and sighed.

  This madness had better pass.

  * * *

  It didn’t pass.

  By the evening, he was beyond frustrated.

  He could barely taste the food as he wolfed it down, feeling distracted and annoyed. He glared at Sebastian, hating himself for his inability to ignore him. He watched Sebastian and Luke talk about their common acquaintances and tried to convince himself he was looking at them both.

  He wasn’t looking at them both.

  Sebastian did this slow blink, sometimes, letting his eyelashes sweep against his cheeks before looking up at whoever he was speaking to, slow, and sleepy and doe-like.

  To make things worse, Vlad was pretty sure Luke had noticed his staring. He kept shooting Vlad inquisitive looks throughout the supper while Sebastian continued ignoring him. Sebastian hadn’t looked at him once all day and it was bothering Vlad more than he would have liked.

  Look at me, he wanted to growl. Look at me, look at me, look at me.

  He felt like a goddamn schoolboy with a crush on a pretty girl.

  Except he wasn’t a schoolboy, and Sebastian wasn’t a pretty girl by any stretch of imagination. He was just pretty. So fucking pretty. And he had such a pretty smile—

  Vlad nearly groaned aloud. Had he really just thought that?

  “Take a picture, Vlad,” Luke said suddenly. “It’ll last longer.”

  Sebastian’s smile kind of froze. He still wouldn’t look at Vlad.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Vlad said, scowling at Luke.

  Luke raised his eyebrows. “You were glaring at Seb for half an hour.”

  “I was just wondering what he was going to do when his pretty face stops making him easy money,” Vlad said.

  Slowly, Sebastian turned his head to him, a flush appearing on his cheekbones. “Really? What a coincidence! I was just wondering what were you going to do when you can’t make easy money by standing stupidly by the wall and flexing your muscles.”

  “Okay, kids,” Luke said, getting to his feet. “I have better things to do than watch you two pull each other’s pigtails.”

  “We weren’t—”

  “We aren’t—”

  “Sure,” Luke said, sounding far too amused for Vlad’s liking as he walked out of the kitchen.

  Vlad looked at Sebastian.

  Tension stretched between them, almost palpable in its thickness.

  Sebastian wet his lips with his tongue, sprang to his feet, and left the kitchen.

  Vlad’s gaze fell to Sebastian’s cup of tea.

  It was almost full.

  * * *

  The rest of the week passed in much the same manner: Sebastian alternated between avoiding him and ignoring him. Vlad wished he could do the same, but the less attention Sebastian gave him, the more it fucking bothered him. He barely managed to stop himself from doing something impulsive, telling himself it was for the best.

  Nights were harder. During the night, there was no escaping the memories and thoughts he managed to suppress during the day. He didn’t sleep well—hadn’t slept well all week.

  Vlad heaved a sigh and turned onto his back, looking at the dark sky through the window by the bed. The penthouse was eerily quiet, the other two men having gone to bed hours ago. He was the only one wide-awake, his mind too busy with thoughts he’d rather not have.

  There was no denying it anymore: he wasn’t quite as straight as he’d believed all his life. But that was the extent of what he was willing to admit, even to himself. Anything beyond that was…

  Vlad halted that train of thought. He’d never been good at self-reflection. In fact, he preferred not to be alone with his own thoughts. If he was, he tended to become restless and vaguely dissatisfied. When he let himself dwell on it, he’d always felt like there was something inherently wrong with his life—with him—but he could never quite put his finger on it.

  This past week might have finally given him an answer, but he didn’t like the answer at all.

  The sound of footsteps brought his thoughts to a screeching halt. Someone was moving in the flat.

  Tensing, Vlad took his gun from the nightstand and quietly rolled off the bed.

  The corridor was dark and empty.

  There was a noise in the living room.

  When he got there, he found Sebastian standing in the middle of the room.

  Vlad set the gun down and switched on the light. This time he wasn’t surprised to see Sebastian’s glassy, unseeing eyes. He was sleepwalking again.

  Vlad stared at him, unsure what to do. Sebastian was wearing only loose pajama bottoms that were riding very low on his hips.

  Licking his suddenly dry lips, he tore his gaze from Sebastian’s hipbones and walked closer. He recalled what Sebastian had told him: he usually sleepwalked only when he was stressed by something. Wondering what had him stressed out this time, Vlad put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder and shook him gently. “Wake up.”

  Sebastian flinched, closed his eyes, and sagged against Vlad, his breathing evening out again. He was truly asleep now, snoring softly into Vlad’s neck.

  Vlad breathed shakily, his boxers suddenly a little tight. Cursing every deity he could think of, he repeated, “Wake up.”

  Sebastian mumbled something sleepily and nuzzled into him. His parted lips dragged across Vlad’s skin, sending goosebumps all over his neck.

  Vlad closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was pure torture.

  “Wake up,” he said, trying not to think about how much he wanted to pull Sebastian closer and feel him up. “Sebastian,” he croaked, clinging to the remnants of his control by the skin of his teeth.

  Finally, Sebastian’s eyelids fluttered open. He stared at Vlad, eyes still sleepy and a little confused.

  “I hate my brain.” Sebastian sighed, looking resigned. He lifted his hand and put it on the back of Vlad’s head. “C’mere, then, kiss me.”

  Vlad froze. Then he realized Sebastian thought he was dreaming.

  “C’mere,” Sebastian mumbled sleepily, pulling his head down.

  Vlad had never felt so weak in the face of attraction. After days of just looking at Sebastian—looking and wanting his attention—his control was pitiful. He was drawn to this man like a bee to honey.

  Just a kiss, he told himself dazedly, staring at Sebastian’s mouth. Just one.

  He pressed his lips against Sebastian’s, swallowing the moan threatening to leave his lips. He licked into Sebastian
’s mouth, cradling his face in his hands. Sebastian was wonderfully responsive, his lips and tongue just as hungry, his arms locking around Vlad’s neck, pulling him closer. Small moans filled the air as they kissed—his or Sebastian’s, Vlad had no idea. Fuck, this felt almost painfully good.

  Suddenly, Sebastian went rigid against him. He pushed at Vlad, tearing his lips away. “Wait,” he said, panting. “I’m not dreaming.”

  With a sigh, Vlad stepped away, his hands balled into fists. He couldn’t look at Sebastian. Unlike Sebastian, he couldn’t claim being confused and thinking he was asleep.

  “How did I—Did I sleepwalk here?”

  “Yes,” Vlad said curtly. He could feel Sebastian’s gaze on him and suppressed the urge to cover his crotch. There was no hiding his half-hard cock.

  “I…” Sebastian trailed off.

  Vlad looked at him. Sebastian’s shoulders were stiff with tension, his fingers touching his lips. When their gazes met, Sebastian licked his shiny lips and cleared his throat. “Good night,” he said hoarsely and strode out of the room.

  Vlad let out the breath he’d been holding, tension draining away.

  Chapter 17

  Sebastian felt like death warmed over when he left his room the next morning. He’d barely slept last night after returning to his room, mortified of getting caught sleepwalking again and asking Vlad to kiss him. Vlad probably thought he was a freak for more reasons than one now. Sebastian half-hoped that Luke—and Vlad—had left for Luke’s office so he didn’t have to face them.

  But they both were in the living room.

  Luke beamed at him when he saw Sebastian. “We have good news!” he said brightly, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “The remaining members of the cult were finally caught last night!”

  Sebastian blinked at him. He could see Vlad’s black-clad figure in his peripheral vision but carefully didn’t look that way. “That means I can go home, right?”

  Luke nodded. “But you can stay—”

  Sebastian turned around swiftly. “I’ll go pack my things,” he threw over his shoulder and retreated into his room.

  Once there, he stared unseeingly into space.

  He could finally go home. Away from Vlad.

  Hermione’s meow pushed him into action. He packed quickly, grabbed his cat, and went to thank Luke for his hospitality.

  “You don’t have to move out immediately,” Luke said, frowning.

  “I want to,” Sebastian said. He felt Vlad’s heavy stare on him. It was more than a little disconcerting. He didn’t understand what was going on in Vlad’s head. “Thanks so much, mate, but I miss my own bed.”

  “I get it, but I wish you could have stayed for a bit longer,” Luke said as they walked to the lift. He made a face. “I liked not being alone with Vlad.”

  Sebastian did his best not to look over his shoulder at Vlad, who could likely hear every word. “Why does he have to stay here if the cult was caught?”

  “I thought I told you that the cult wasn’t the only reason Vlad was here? There’s—”

  “You shouldn’t be talking about it,” Vlad cut in from behind them, and Sebastian flinched. Vlad’s voice sounded a lot closer than Sebastian had expected.

  Luke sighed. “I feel like a prisoner in my own home,” he muttered before raising his voice. “When Roman is back, you’ll stop being my bodyguard. I would convince Roman to fire you completely, but I know you and Roman go way back and he has a soft spot for you, for some reason. He thinks you’re loyal.”

  “I am,” Vlad said before sighing. “Luke.”

  Luke turned around, and Sebastian did, too, curious despite himself.

  Vlad glanced at him, his face unreadable, before focusing his gaze on Luke with a resolute expression. “Look, I know we didn’t get off to a good start,” he said. “I didn’t make your situation easier. I didn’t stop my men when they roughed you up—”

  “You joined them, once,” Luke hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Vlad got a pinched look on his face. “I wasn’t exactly sober that time. We were celebrating my birthday and one thing led to another. You were an easy target.”

  Luke chuckled. “Is that your idea of an apology? Because if it is, you’re doing it wrong.”

  Vlad shrugged, his shoulders hunching a little. “I’m not trying to apologize or pretend to be a better man than I am. I’ve done far worse things than roughing someone up, and if I apologized for all of them, we’ll be here all night.” His gaze flicked to Sebastian for a fraction of a second before settling back on Luke. “Recently someone told me I was a bully. Maybe they were right. But what happened back in Russia was a singular lapse of judgment, not something that happened regularly—Roman would have fired me a long time ago if it was. So you can stop looking at me like I’m going to jump you and beat you up. I won’t, no matter how much I disliked you.”

  Luke bit his lip. “Disliked me? Past tense?”

  Vlad rolled his eyes, smiling at Luke. “Can’t stand the thought of someone not being wrapped around your little finger whenever you bat your pretty eyelashes?”

  Luke scowled, but his lips were twitching up.

  Sebastian watched the exchange, his stomach twisted into unpleasant knots. When he realized what exactly the ugly emotion was, Sebastian looked away, freaked out. He couldn’t really be stupid enough to get jealous over Vlad. He wasn’t.

  But he couldn’t deny that he didn’t like watching Vlad smile at Luke the way he never smiled at him, Sebastian, and he didn’t like Vlad noticing that Luke’s eyelashes were pretty.

  Fuck, he was being ridiculous. Of course Luke’s eyelashes were pretty; Luke was probably the prettiest bloke Sebastian knew, with the exception of Tristan DuVal. Of course Vlad noticed how pretty Luke was: he wasn’t blind, and he was gay, no matter what Vlad told himself.

  Maybe Vlad even secretly fancied Luke and that was the reason for his antagonism toward him.

  His cat yowled protestingly when Sebastian crushed her too tightly to his chest. He forced himself to relax his grip.

  “All right, I’ll go,” Sebastian said awkwardly, feeling like it was secondary school all over again and he was the invisible, geeky loser. “Bye, Luke. Thanks for everything!”

  He got into the lift before either of them could say anything.

  Once inside, he banged his head against the wall and sighed.

  “This was pathetic,” he told Hermione, pressing his cheek to hers. “I’m such a loser.”

  It didn’t seem to matter how good he looked now; he would always feel like an ugly duckling at heart. Yes, it was obvious Vlad had been attracted to him, but it was just that, a superficial attraction to a good-looking guy. He was nothing special for Vlad. It could have been anyone.

  He was nothing special.

  Chapter 18

  “Have you spoken to your friend?”

  Luke lifted his gaze from his laptop and settled it on Vlad.

  The Russian was lounging on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Luke studied him with interest. Ever since they had talked and cleared the air between them a week ago, Luke felt much more comfortable in Vlad’s presence, but they weren’t exactly friends and he still couldn’t get a good read on him.

  “What friend?” Luke said. “I have lots of friends.”

  “Sebastian,” Vlad said, his tone casual, perhaps too casual.

  Luke eyed him curiously. He wasn’t blind: he had noticed that there was something going on between his grumpy bodyguard and Sebastian. Luke couldn’t say he approved—he thought it would end in tears for Sebastian—but then again, everyone told him the same thing about Roman, and Luke had never been happier. Sure, Roman wasn’t an easy man to be with, but Luke felt good with him. Good, safe, and so very in love.

  Forcing himself to stop thinking about Roman, Luke focused his attention back on Vlad.

  “Yes,” he said innocently, biting back a smile when Vlad’s jaw clenched. The guy clearly wasn’t happy about the b
revity of his answer.

  Seven seconds passed before Vlad finally spoke again.

  “He hasn’t come over,” Vlad said, his eyes still on his phone.

  “No,” Luke confirmed, looking away for a moment to hide another smile. “Did you expect him to come over often? We aren’t really that kind of friends. He’s busy with Tristan’s fashion line, I think.”

  Vlad said nothing.

  Luke studied his hard profile. Although Vlad didn’t unnerve him anymore, he couldn’t help noticing that there was a coiled promise of violence in the line of his body. Luke wondered what kind of life Vlad had led for that tension to be so deeply ingrained in his mannerisms even while Vlad was supposedly relaxed and safe. Vlad was different from Roman in that regard: Roman was all controlled power and dominance, while Vlad gave off tense, aggressive vibes, as if he might explode any moment. Having seen what Vlad was capable of, it made Luke a little wary, although he knew Vlad wouldn’t put a finger on him.

  “Do you like Sebastian?” Luke said, against his better judgment.

  Vlad’s shoulders stiffened, even the illusion of him being relaxed gone. Luke kind of expected Vlad to deny having any homosexual inclinations, so he was very surprised when Vlad simply said,

  “No.”

  His curiosity spiking, Luke said, “Did you forget I saw you and him? Kissing?”

  Once again, he waited for “I’m not a faggot” or another homophobic slur.

  Vlad surprised him again. “You’re such a kid,” he said, without scorn. “You don’t have to ‘like’ someone to kiss them.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. If he had a penny for every time someone underestimated his experience or his age, he would be the richest man on Earth.

  “You know, I wasn’t exactly enamored with Roman the first time we had sex,” Luke said. When Vlad turned his head to him, Luke smiled, amused. “Did you really think I was so gullible? Roman hated my father and I knew he was using me.” He cocked his head. “Actually, compared to that, I don’t understand why you and Sebastian didn’t get along from the beginning—”