Just a Bit Wicked (Straight Guys Book 7)

by Alessandra Hazard

  His uncle had definitely been wrong, at least in that regard.

  But Stepan might have been right about one thing: attraction to another man—at least to one man in particular—felt unnatural. Unnaturally strong.

  It had been over a month since they’d had sex for the first time. He had hoped to fuck it out of his system by now, but fucking hell, it didn’t seem to be helping. The mere memory of the hours he’d spent enjoying Sebastian’s body, kissing his mouth afterward, unable to get enough, made him burn. He’d barely torn himself away from Sebastian, had barely forced himself to leave. He would say he felt like he was a teenager again, except he’d never been this drunk on a person when he’d been a teenager—or an adult, for that matter. Vlad couldn’t help thinking that he must be sick, because he’d never felt this way: like a hormonal mess with a one-track mind. Sebastian’s smile shouldn’t have left him feeling breathless and winded with desire to touch, desire to kiss, as if someone had socked him in the stomach and spelled blue balls on him.

  Maybe it was just a midlife crisis.

  Maybe his uncle had been right and this was a disease.

  Or maybe he had always been a faggot and had just repressed the hell out of it. Maybe it wasn’t Sebastian. Maybe he would behave so ridiculously with any attractive man, although his lack of attraction to Antonio seemed to point to the contrary.

  Maybe it wasn’t Sebastian who was the exception but Antonio.

  To test that theory, Vlad closed his eyes and tried to imagine fucking Luke. The kid was as pretty as it could get and Vlad definitely didn’t feel revulsion at the idea, but the faint interest had nothing on the insatiable want he felt with Sebastian. Besides, Roman might actually kill him if he laid a finger on his boy.

  Roman.

  Vlad imagined fucking Roman and snorted. Even if the idea wasn’t vaguely gross—Roman had always been a bit of a brother figure to him—he knew they would be disastrous in bed. It wasn’t exactly a secret to him that Roman was a kinky, domineering asshole. Vlad had no submissive inclinations. He could rarely keep his opinions to himself if he disagreed with Roman’s orders—that was the reason they had clashed so often over the years. They would be terrible in bed.

  So it was safe to say he didn’t want Luke or Roman the way he wanted Sebastian.

  Vlad wasn’t sure whether he should be happy about it or not. On one hand, it was good to know he hadn’t suddenly become a cock slut. On the other hand, it was hugely worrying that he was so transfixed on Sebastian, sick with desire to kiss him, to touch him, to fuck him—to see him. Even now his gaze kept drifting to the right, toward the district where Sebastian’s flat was located. He couldn’t see the building from here, but it didn’t stop him from looking, like some obsessed, lovesick creep.

  Sighing, Vlad took another sip from his bottle, staring moodily into the dark sky and letting his thoughts drift.

  He didn’t know for how long he stood there, perhaps an hour, perhaps more, when the balcony door opened behind him.

  Roman stepped out, lighting a cigarette. He had his coat thrown over his shoulders, his bare chest on display. He reeked of sex.

  “Can’t sleep?” Roman said, taking a deep drag.

  Vlad shrugged.

  “Luke says you’ve been an exemplary bodyguard.”

  Vlad just snorted, a little surprised. While he and Luke had worked out their differences, they weren’t exactly friends. He had expected the kid to still hold a grudge against him.

  “I’m glad you and Luke have worked out your issues.”

  Vlad said nothing, waiting. Roman wasn’t one for idle talk; he was going somewhere with this.

  “I expect you to return to your old job,” Roman said.

  Vlad laughed. Of course Roman wasn’t asking him if he wanted to return to his old job. He was informing Vlad of his stance, fully expecting the positive answer. Arrogant asshole.

  “Who says I want to go back?” Vlad said. “I took this job as a favor to you, because I owed you one. Maybe I’m not interested in staying around. This city is fucking depressing.”

  “Really,” Roman said evenly, taking another long drag. “I’ve been told something different. Luke says you’ve been fucking his model friend.”

  Vlad stiffened. It was an effort to keep his face blank. How did Luke know? A lucky guess? Or had Sebastian told him?

  Unease settled low in his gut. He wasn’t comfortable with so many people knowing about...him.

  “If Luke spent the past hour talking about me, you were doing something wrong,” Vlad said gruffly.

  Roman chuckled, not taking the bait. “So it’s true. Have to say I’m surprised.”

  “Why?” Vlad bit off. “You used to fuck a different woman every night, but now you’re fucking Whitford’s boy.”

  “I’m not ‘fucking’ Luke,” Roman said, ice creeping into his voice. “Don’t speak of him in that way. Understood?”

  Vlad looked at him. Roman didn’t seem amused in the least, his posture tense, anger rolling off him in waves.

  Eyeing his normally cool-headed boss, Vlad realized Roman didn’t just have fond feelings for the boy. He loved him, as in was in it for the long haul.

  The realization made him feel...strange. He didn’t feel disgusted, and that was the strange part.

  “Okay,” Vlad said, turning away. After a moment, he added stiffly, “If I knew how important he was to you, I wouldn’t have helped Anastasia. I thought he was a bad influence.” The road to hell was paved with good intentions.

  “I know,” Roman said. “That’s the only reason I decided to forgive you. And if I can let your betrayal go, you can swallow your damn pride. You will take the job, Vlad. Anya is sick of doing your job on top of hers.” He paused. “And I got used to the way you handled things, even though Anya never questions my orders, which is a refreshing change from you.”

  Vlad’s lips twitched. Coming from Roman, that was the equivalent of him admitting that he missed him.

  “Fine,” he said. “But I want a raise.”

  “A raise?” Roman said with a chuckle. “I pay you a fortune, you greedy asshole.”

  “This city is fucking expensive and my tastes aren’t cheap.”

  “And to think you used to be a country bumpkin who owned two shirts,” Roman murmured, lighting another cigarette.

  Vlad’s smile faded. That country bumpkin would have been disgusted and horrified if he could see him now—it he knew Vlad was so crazy about another man.

  “That was a long time ago,” he said. “I’m a different man now.”

  Was he?

  Chapter 24

  Sebastian let himself into his flat, locked the door, and took off his Chelsea boots with a relieved sigh. He adored them, but they were still new and weren’t ideal for wearing all day long. Moving his toes to get rid of the stiffness in them, Sebastian padded out toward his bedroom.

  He yelped when he saw a figure sitting on his bed in the dark.

  “It’s me,” Vlad said.

  Sebastian breathed out, pressing his hand to his rapidly beating heart. “Jesus, you scared me! Warn the guy that you’re waiting for him in his dark bedroom. Creep. Normal people wait outside when there’s no one at home.”

  “You left the balcony door open.”

  Sebastian turned the lights on. “I live on the second floor.”

  Vlad shrugged and gave him a look, as if saying, “So?”

  Sebastian’s amused smile froze. What was wrong with him? Vlad’s criminal habits weren’t adorable. They weren’t. They were terrible. Vlad was a terrible, terrible person.

  “Right.” He peered at Vlad curiously, pulling his coat off and dropping it on the chair. “Why are you here so early? Shouldn’t you be bodyguarding Luke?”

  “Roman’s back. My contract is over.”

  Sebastian’s stomach clenched.

  After a moment, he said in a carefully casual tone, “Does that mean you’re leaving England?”

  Vlad’s blue eyes we
re studying him intently.

  Putting on his best neutral expression, Sebastian started unbuttoning his shirt.

  “No,” Vlad said at last. “Roman rehired me as his head of security.”

  Sebastian let out the breath he’d been holding. Fear knotted his insides when he realized he felt relieved. He had no business to feel relieved.

  “That’s...good,” he said, slipping out of his shirt. He felt a little off, unsure. He didn’t know where they stood after the other night’s weirdness—after Vlad had gone all caveman on him. He had liked it. He had liked it too much, against his better judgment. “I mean, that’s good for you, right?”

  Vlad shrugged, his eyes still on Sebastian’s face despite Sebastian’s semi-undressed state.

  “Have you told Luke about this?” Vlad said. “Have you told anyone else?”

  Sebastian frowned. “About what?”

  “About—you and me,” Vlad said in a clipped voice.

  “Of course not,” Sebastian said, his frown deepening. “Luke knows only what he saw with his own eyes.” He pursed his lips. “I haven’t told anyone—well, there’s Antonio, but you did agree to have a threesome with him, so it was kind of unavoidable. But I would never out anyone without their explicit permission. That’s not cool.”

  Vlad kept staring at him with that weirdly intense look.

  “What?” Sebastian said.

  The muscles in Vlad’s cheek pulsed. “It makes me uncomfortable—that people know. First that Italian, now Luke and Roman.”

  Sebastian’s hands paused in the middle of tugging his jeans down his thighs. He wet his lips with his tongue, nausea rolling in his stomach.

  So this was it.

  “If it makes you uncomfortable, let’s end it. It’s no big deal.” He managed to chuckle lightly. “This was supposed to be sex for fun, no strings attached. If it’s not fun anymore, it defeats the purpose, right?”

  Maybe it was for the best. This no longer felt like a no-strings-attached thing. It felt anything but.

  “Yes,” Vlad agreed, his gaze still on Sebastian’s face.

  “Okay, then,” Sebastian said, forcing out a small smile and trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t disappointed or hurt. He wasn’t. He was totally cool. He’d always known Vlad would eventually freak out and go back to being “straight” and “normal.” Vlad was just like Mike. Sebastian had been prepared for it. It had been the whole point of having no-strings-attached sex. Vlad had warned him this would happen. He had no reason to feel angry or upset.

  “You know the way out,” he said.

  When Vlad didn’t move from the bed, he felt a little silly.

  “Bye,” Sebastian said pointedly, starting to get pissed off. Why couldn’t Vlad just go? He looked around the room. “I need to feed the cat.”

  Where was Hermione when he needed her?

  At last, Vlad stood up and moved toward the door, his footsteps slow and heavy.

  Suddenly, Vlad stopped, his shoulders and back radiating tension. He swore through his teeth and strode toward Sebastian, grabbed his face and kissed him, his tongue pushing into Sebastian’s mouth, demanding and rough. There was something needy and urgent about that kiss, something painfully angry and desperate. It broke Sebastian’s heart, just a little. This was it. This was it.

  Vlad sucked on his bottom lip, his hands holding Sebastian’s hips in a bruising grip. “Throw me out,” he croaked, kissing the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “Please, throw me out.” He kissed the other corner before pushing his tongue back inside, his hands slipping under Sebastian’s boxers to pull their bodies flush together.

  “Stop,” Sebastian said weakly.

  Vlad kissed him deeper, his arms tightening around him.

  “Stop,” he managed firmer, pushing at Vlad’s chest.

  Vlad went rigid, his body fraught with tension.

  At last, he stepped away, looking at Sebastian like a thirsty man at a well, his hands balled tightly into fists.

  Sebastian closed his eyes, breathed in, breathed out, and opened them.

  “You can’t do this,” he said, pulling his jeans up and avoiding Vlad’s eyes. “I can’t do this, not again. I know you must be confused, but it’s not fair to me, Vlad. You can’t keep dicking me around. I can’t—I won’t let you. If this makes you uncomfortable, if you’re freaking out, that’s it, we’re done.”

  Vlad locked his jaw and nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just—” He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s my problem, not yours.”

  Sebastian nodded uncertainly, hugging himself. “I don’t dislike you,” he said. His throat felt raw. “Not anymore. I’m glad we could talk it out and act like responsible adults. I guess...I guess we can be friends if you’re staying in London?”

  Vlad stared at him oddly. “Sure,” he said after a moment. “Why not.”

  Licking his lips, Sebastian looked around the room, searching for something to say.

  “So are you moving out of Luke’s place?” he said.

  “Yes,” Vlad replied. “I need to find a place, actually.”

  “The flat next door is empty,” Sebastian said without thinking and promptly wanted to kick himself.

  “Thanks. I’ll look into it,” Vlad said, putting his jacket on.

  Sebastian knew he wouldn’t. They would never be neighbors or friends. They never could be.

  This was really it.

  “Yeah,” Sebastian said, nodding unnecessarily and swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. “See you around.”

  Their gazes met and held for a moment that felt like eternity.

  I could have loved you.

  In another life, they could have been something together. Something good and strong and bright. Something that didn’t hurt. Maybe in another life, Vlad wouldn’t have been raised to hate what he was. Maybe in that life Sebastian wouldn’t be afraid of love and would allow himself to trust and love again.

  In another life.

  But not this one.

  Vlad turned away and left.

  As he heard the door close after Vlad, Sebastian sat heavily on the bed and stared into nothing, his throat thick and achy.

  Chapter 25

  One month later

  The door to the security center opened and closed.

  “The new intern is crying,” Anna said.

  Vlad made a noncommittal noise, without opening his eyes.

  “Why is he crying?” Anna said. “Vladislav!”

  Vlad opened his eyes and shrugged, knowing it would drive her crazy. Anna was a stickler for rules, the type to do everything by the book and never question Roman’s orders. Needless to say, they had never really gotten along.

  “He has no spine,” he said at last, glancing at the security feed showing the kid crying outside the room. “I’m not in the mood to babysit stupid kids today.”

  Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re never in the mood since you returned to work. You would think getting a second chance would put you in a nice mood instead of turning you into a tyrant. It’s the fourth employee you’ve made cry this week alone. Someone’s going to complain. We aren’t in Russia anymore, Vlad.”

  He gave her a flat look. “If you have issues with my behavior, you can bring it up to Roman.”

  Anna sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re back—I was sick of doing your job on top of mine—but you need to deal with whatever has you snapping at everyone. Whatever is wrong with you, fix it.”

  “Nothing is wrong with me.”

  She smiled. “You’re an asshole, but you’re not that much of an asshole. Fix it, Vlad.”

  She left and Vlad sagged back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Fix it?

  He wished he knew how.

  It had been over a month. His bad mood got worse by the day, and he constantly felt like punching someone. There hadn’t been an opportunity to punch someo
ne, but he had been snapping at his subordinates and reducing them to tears. To put it plainly, he felt like shit and was taking it out on everyone around him. With Christmas approaching, pretty much everyone was in festive spirits, and it only highlighted what a miserable bastard he had been. If Sebastian saw him now, he would call him a bully and would be absolutely right.

  Vlad heaved a sigh, beyond annoyed with himself. He had managed not to think of Sebastian for a whole two hours. That must be a new record. If his thing for Sebastian had been a disease, the lack of exposure to the cause definitely wasn’t helping.

  To make things worse, it felt like Sebastian was suddenly everywhere: Vlad kept seeing billboard ads with Sebastian all the goddamn time. He hated them, hated looking at them, hated the sultry looks Sebastian gave to the camera—to other people. Acid jealousy burned his insides when he wondered if Sebastian was with someone else at the moment, if he was smiling at them, if he was letting other people touch him, kiss him, look at him sleep—

  Vlad sprang to his feet and started pacing the room.

  Whatever is wrong with you, fix it.

  The funny thing was, he hadn’t actually intended to end things with Sebastian. He had simply wanted to talk to him—Sebastian was the only person he felt remotely comfortable with to discuss his sexuality—but Sebastian had taken it the wrong way, interpreting Vlad’s discomfort as the desire to end things. After Sebastian suggested ending their arrangement, looking so fucking unbothered, Vlad could hardly say that he didn’t want to end it.

  Maybe he should have.

  And then what? Sebastian clearly didn’t want anything permanent with him. Hell, if he were in Sebastian’s shoes, he wouldn’t want anything permanent with him, either.

  Vlad came to an abrupt halt.

  Did he want something permanent with Sebastian?

  His heart started beating faster. He thought of being able to call Sebastian his, of being able to spend as much time with Sebastian as he wanted, of being the only man to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. He liked the idea. He liked it very much.