Just a Bit Wicked (Straight Guys Book 7)

by Alessandra Hazard

  “He fucked my girlfriend while I was babysitting you in Switzerland,” Vlad said flatly.

  Luke blinked. That was news to him. He hadn’t even known Vlad had a girlfriend.

  “That doesn’t sound like Sebastian,” he said, his brows furrowing. “I mean, he does sleep around, but he’s not an asshole. He doesn’t fuck with other people’s relationships.” He paused. “So you had met him before you came to London?”

  “Yes. I went to his hotel in Moscow, wanted to teach him a lesson.”

  Luke winced, glancing at Vlad’s massive fists. Sebastian wasn’t a small man by any means, but he was no match for that kind of brutal strength. After seeing Vlad’s fists in action against those homophobic lunatics, Luke knew Vlad hadn’t used even half of his strength against him—Luke wouldn’t have been alive if he had.

  “Did you?” Luke asked.

  “No,” Vlad said gruffly. “He pissed me off so much I...” Licking his lips, he averted his gaze. “He distracted me.”

  “How?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Clearly that was all Vlad was going to say on the subject.

  “Seb is very handsome,” Luke said, a little wistfully. He’d always been a bit envious of Sebastian’s looks. Sebastian managed to look beautiful and strong. No one would call Sebastian a cute kid. He was only a couple of years older than Luke, but people thought he was years older and far more mature than him. Although Luke no longer had any hang-ups about not looking very manly, sometimes he wished to be taken more seriously. It would have certainly made his job much easier.

  Luke looked at Vlad. “Don’t you think so? That he’s handsome?”

  “He’s...” Vlad’s jaw clenched. “He’s very—” He cut off whatever he was going to say and pursed his lips.

  “He’s very handsome,” Luke said.

  “He’s not that handsome,” Vlad grumbled. “He looks like Snow White.”

  Luke chuckled. “You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.”

  “He’s very pale. His eyes are too dark in contrast. His lips are so red they look painted.”

  Luke hummed noncommittally, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.

  “His ass is huge,” Vlad said. “He has chicken legs.”

  “Yeah, he looks positively tragic.”

  Vlad peered at him suspiciously and scowled when Luke finally broke into helpless giggles.

  “Come on, you like him, admit it!”

  “I don’t,” Vlad said tightly. “I don’t like him the way you’re implying. He pisses me off most of the time.”

  “Which way do you like him, then?” Luke said, unwilling to drop the subject while Vlad seemed uncharacteristically talkative.

  Vlad glared at him. “I said I didn’t like him.”

  “You said you didn’t like him the way I was implying,” Luke said, smiling. “Which means you like him in some way.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Vlad gritted out, his accent suddenly much thicker. “I’m not a native speaker, you misunderstood me.”

  Luke raised his eyebrows. “That’s awfully convenient. You’re forgetting I’m in a relationship with a Russian. Roman plays the foreigner card when it suits him, too. Come on, spill.”

  Vlad heaved an irritated sigh, turning his face away. “Drop it. And don’t compare us to you and Roman.”

  Luke grinned. “Us?”

  Vlad shot him a withering look and closed his eyes demonstratively.

  For a while, he was silent.

  “The police thinks a few minor members of the cult might still be out there,” he said at last. “That’s why I asked about him. That’s all.”

  Luke frowned. “You think Sebastian might still be in danger?”

  “Maybe,” Vlad said, without opening his eyes. “Crazy fanatics are the hardest to predict.”

  Luke studied him, but it was impossible to tell whether Vlad considered the danger serious or not.

  “Maybe you should go check on Sebastian,” Luke said slowly. When Vlad didn’t react, he decided to make it an order. “I want you to go check on Sebastian. Make sure his place is secure.”

  Vlad opened his eyes. He looked toward the private lift before dropping his gaze and shaking his head. “I’ll go after you go to bed. It’s safer that way.”

  “Go now,” Luke said. He knew Vlad had installed some complicated security system in the flat in case Vlad had to leave him alone at night. Vlad had never used it before, because with the exception of the trip to Sebastian’s hometown, he was adamant about staying close 24/7 even though it wasn’t required by his contract. Roman had been right that Vlad was nothing if not dedicated to the job, going above and beyond requirements. “I’ll stay put,” Luke said. “You can go now.”

  “I’ll go after you go to bed,” Vlad said with finality.

  Luke eyed him for a moment before nodding and standing up. “I’m going to bed, then.”

  Vlad looked at him suspiciously. “After I turn on the security system, you won’t be able to leave your room without tripping it.”

  Luke shrugged and faked a yawn. “I’m really beat,” he said, and headed to his bedroom.

  By the time Luke emerged out of the en-suite, Vlad knocked on the door and said, “You can’t leave your bedroom until my return.”

  “Okay,” Luke said, climbing into his very soft, very empty bed. He sighed. “Vlad?”

  “What?” Vlad said, his impatience barely concealed.

  “When was the last time you spoke with Roman?” Luke said, without looking at Vlad. “He hasn’t called me in two days.” He had been wanting to ask Vlad all day, but his pride hadn’t let him. He didn’t want to seem like a clingy baby. He had hoped Roman would call by the evening—he had promised to call every day—and there wouldn’t be a need to ask Vlad. Except Roman hadn’t called. He had never missed a call before.

  There was a pause before Vlad replied, “Three days ago.”

  Luke closed his eyes, biting his lip hard.

  “It’s not the first time Roman has gone missing for a few days,” Vlad said gruffly. “Stop being a worry-wart.”

  Was he actually trying to comfort Luke?

  “Thanks,” Luke said with a small smile. Roman was right: Vlad wasn’t that bad.

  Vlad just grunted and shut the door.

  Hugging his pillow, Luke squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to stop being stupid. Vlad was right. Roman was fine. He was probably worrying over nothing. Please let me be worried over nothing.

  At times like this, Luke almost wondered whether it was worth it. But then he thought of Roman’s arms around him, his masculine, comforting scent, his firm lips, his beard tickling Luke’s face—and missed him so badly that something hurt deep inside him.

  “Come back,” he whispered, barely audibly.

  Trying to distract himself, Luke thought about Sebastian and Vlad. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that sure he’d done the right thing by urging Vlad to go check on Sebastian. He could see that Vlad had some sort of feelings for Sebastian—it had been impossible to be in the same room as those two and remain oblivious to the thick, almost suffocating sexual tension between them—but Luke wasn’t sure Vlad and Sebastian could ever work. There was something disturbing about the way Vlad looked at Sebastian: like he hated him and craved him at the same time. Taking Vlad’s deeply ingrained homophobia into consideration, it was a recipe for disaster. Luke could only hope he hadn’t made a huge mistake and things wouldn’t turn ugly at Sebastian’s flat.

  Chapter 19

  Roman was going to kill him if something happened to his precious boy while Vlad was out. It didn’t matter that the danger was minimal after the cult had been caught (he might have exaggerated a little when he’d told Luke about the police’s concerns) and the security in Luke’s building was top-notch. No security system was impenetrable. Not to mention that it was a little worrying that Roman hadn’t contacted either of them in a few days.

  He shouldn’t have been here. He sh
ould have stayed close to Luke and waited for news from Roman instead of stalking Sebastian Sumner. Stalking was probably too soft a word. He was being a total creep.

  Because breaking into someone’s flat and watching them sleep was pretty damn creepy, even by his pretty low standards.

  Vlad stared at the sleeping man, trying to fight the resentment growing inside him. Rationally, he knew that this…obsession wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. He was a grown man, and he was the one responsible for his failings and for his lack of control. It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault that all this week he had felt like crawling out of his skin, wanting to see him.

  It hadn’t been an easy thing to accept. Vlad had been forced to stop living in denial when he’d caught himself expecting—wanting—to see Sebastian curled on Luke’s couch, his face buried in a thick book, chewing on his thumb whenever something interesting was happening in the book. Vlad hadn’t realized that he had mentally cataloged Sebastian’s every little quirk—that he had spent an unhealthy amount of time watching Sebastian— until he found himself with too much time and nothing to do while Luke worked in his study. He could no longer deny he had liked watching Sebastian, liked looking at him, as if Sebastian was a beautiful piece of art. Vlad didn’t like to think what it meant, because neither of the conclusions he had come to was particularly comfortable.

  Sebastian mumbled something sleepily and shifted in his sleep, rolling from his stomach onto his back. The sheets fell to his thighs.

  Light gleamed off the muscles of Sebastian’s arms, the sculpted lines of his torso. Vlad swallowed. Damn him. Damn him for falling asleep with the lights on. Had it been dark, Vlad wouldn’t be able to see his long eyelashes casting thick shadows across his cheekbones, or that lovely mouth, parted slightly. He looked so fucking edible. Vlad had always thought it was a hyperbole when people said someone looked delicious. It wasn’t a hyperbole. Vlad felt almost physically hungry, all but drooling, his cock hard just from looking at the sleeping young man.

  Dirty, perverted, sick, his inner voice whispered, sounding suspiciously like his uncle.

  Shame curled low in his gut, but it couldn’t overpower the heady, mindless want his body ached with.

  It’s sick.

  Vlad wanted him.

  It’s a perversion.

  He wanted him.

  It’s depraved and wicked.

  He wanted him.

  Vlad wrapped a hand around Sebastian’s shapely, muscular ankle. “Wake up.”

  Sebastian stirred, muttered something, and continued sleeping.

  Vlad stroked the ankle and said, louder, “Sebastian.”

  “What?” Sebastian mumbled, his eyes closed. “Sleeping. Go away.”

  “I want you,” Vlad said.

  For a few moments, there was no reaction from the other man.

  Then, Sebastian opened his eyes blearily and stared at him with confusion. “Vlad? What are you—How did you...?” His eyes narrowed, his expression becoming more alert. “Wait. Did you break into my flat?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Sebastian spluttered. “And you see nothing wrong with it? What is wrong with you?”

  Vlad found himself smiling. “It’s one of the mildest crimes I’ve ever committed, actually.”

  “You realize that’s not very reassuring, right?” Sebastian said, sitting up. Dark strands of hair fell over his eyes.

  “Not trying to be reassuring,” Vlad said, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  Sebastian watched him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” he whispered, licking his lips.

  “Undressing.”

  “Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Vlad said, unbuckling his belt.

  Sebastian’s dark eyes fixated on his fingers as they unzipped his fly. “I don’t understand,” he said helplessly, sounding like a confused child. Gone was the confident, experienced, unashamedly promiscuous man. Sebastian looked wide-eyed and vulnerable.

  Vlad wanted to kiss him.

  Dirty, perverted, sick.

  Vlad ignored the insistent voice. He could—would—feel shame later. Right now he wanted to get between those thighs and kiss that mouth.

  Down to his boxers, Vlad got in the bed, tugged Sebastian to him until he was half in Vlad’s lap, and put his hands on Sebastian’s bare shoulders. “Look,” Vlad said, holding Sebastian’s wide-eyed gaze. “I know you don’t like me. I know you said you didn’t want to deal with my bullshit. After meeting Fletcher, I get it. I’m not much better than him. I’m no good for you. I probably remind you of every shitty, painful thing he’s done. I get it.”

  Sebastian’s dark brows furrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m being honest with you,” Vlad said, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian seemed to be one of those rare dark-haired men who didn’t need to shave all that much. Vlad’s gaze moved up Sebastian’s neck. He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Sebastian’s mouth. “I’m saying you were right: I am the asshole and bully you accused me of being.” He met Sebastian’s gaze again. “I’m saying I want you, even though I’m not entirely okay with it. I don’t want to want you. That’s the truth. You should probably kick me out, because I look at you and want you and want to fuck you up for making me like this.”

  “I didn’t make you into anything,” Sebastian said. “You were just repressed as hell. It could have been anyone.”

  “Maybe,” Vlad conceded. “But there’s this thing in me that blames you, because it’s not just anyone who makes me feel like a horny, obsessed schoolboy with one track mind. It’s you.”

  Sebastian looked at him unblinkingly, a faint blush appearing on his pale cheeks. “I still don’t get where you’re going with this. Did you come here to beat me up? Again?”

  “I came here because I couldn’t fucking stay away,” Vlad said, fingers stroking Sebastian’s throat. He wanted to suck a collar of bite marks around that neck, see how much suction it took to make Sebastian’s pale skin bloom in bruises. “I want you. I want to put my cock in you and keep putting it in you until I get sick of it, until I’m cured of this—this obsession with you. But I don’t want to be an asshole. I want to make sure you understand that I’m not—that this isn’t more than that.” He looked Sebastian in the eye. “Kick me out now if you aren’t okay with it.”

  He watched Sebastian’s Adam’s apple move.

  He couldn’t read Sebastian’s face as he said, “You’re saying you want no-strings-attached sex. You basically want to fuck me out of your system.”

  It sounded like a statement, but Vlad responded, “Yes.”

  “Because you have too much baggage and you can’t offer more.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if—if I agree to this, I won’t have to deal with your gay freak-outs. You will go freak out about it somewhere else.”

  “Essentially.”

  “And you won’t take out your anger on me.”

  Vlad winced inwardly. That wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined not to do it. “No.”

  “You won’t make feel like shit. No more homophobic slurs.”

  Vlad looked Sebastian in the eye. “I’ll try.”

  “I...” Sebastian chewed on his lip. “I don’t know.” He smiled a little crookedly. “This is kind of unexpected. I expected you to be too deep in denial to even admit you were attracted to me. I definitely didn’t expect to have a serious, adult talk with you that didn’t end in insults.”

  Vlad smiled back. “The night is still young.”

  Sebastian laughed. Immediately, he flushed, covering his mouth with his hand, clearly self-conscious about his awkward squawk of a laugh.

  Vlad found himself smiling wider. It was a relief to see that Sebastian didn’t have a perfect, beautiful laugh to match his looks.

  “So,” Vlad said, keeping his hands still with conscious effort on his part. They wanted to wander and touch all that exposed smooth skin.

  “So,�
� Sebastian repeated, putting his hands on Vlad’s bare chest. Vlad’s heart thundered under his palm. Sebastian lifted his gaze and wet his lips with his tongue. “No strings attached?”

  “No strings attached,” Vlad said, his eyes dropping to Sebastian’s lips.

  Sebastian was the one to lean in and fit their mouths together—and the tension that had Vlad’s insides twisted up all week finally bled out. This was what he’d been craving, that mouth. Cradling Sebastian’s face, Vlad kissed him back thoroughly, curling his tongue around Sebastian’s.

  “Fuck,” Sebastian said when they finally parted for air. He was breathing hard, eyes glassy, lips red and shiny with spit.

  “Yeah,” Vlad croaked, staring.

  They moved as one, smashing their lips together again, hungry, impatient, and clumsy. Moaning, Sebastian moved fully into Vlad’s lap, their bare chests pressing together and causing delicious tremors all over Vlad’s body. Fuck, Vlad had never wanted to consume a person like this, lay them out and have them in every way a person could be had. He wanted to understand Sebastian’s mind, wanted to mark him up from head to toe, get inside him and thrust, thrust, thrust.

  “Want you,” Vlad said, nibbling along Sebastian’s jawline. “Wanna fuck you. Please.”

  “Okay,” Sebastian said, falling back on the mattress and pulling Vlad on top of him.

  The foreplay was short, clumsy and impatient. Vlad would have been embarrassed if Sebastian wasn’t equally awkward and impatient. They kissed and groped each other like horny adolescents, moaning and panting into each other’s mouths.

  “Suck my cock?” Sebastian murmured against his lips, sending a shock of arousal through Vlad’s body.

  He looked down at the red, hard cock standing proud against Sebastian’s abs. It looked so…depraved. His mouth watered.

  Vlad leaned down and swallowed as much of the cock as he could. Sebastian whined above him, fingers digging into Vlad’s shoulders, spurring him on. Vlad closed his eyes and sucked.

  Faggot, the familiar voice in his head said. Cocksucker.

  Ignoring it, Vlad sucked harder, oddly turned on by the obscenity of the act. He liked the way the cock stretched his lips, the taste of it, the scent of male arousal. Sucking cock felt wrong but right at the same time—satisfying—and he found himself moaning around the length. His fingers massaged Sebastian’s thighs as he bobbed his head up and down, enjoying the sounds coming from his mouth as he sucked, licked, and hummed around the cock, ignoring his own, which was painfully hard, too.