Page 78 of Speak

“I get it, cousin.”

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Jonas hands me a drink, turning to stare out the window. He certainly fucking grew the fuck up. Gone are the freckles and that boyish charm. He looks all man. Even with the suit on, I can see the definition of the muscles in his arms. Square jawline, green-brown eyes, chestnut hair that long in the front gives way to curls. Fuck, I’m a sucker for men with curly hair.

I meant to ask him about Raven on the drive back, but the conversation stays on me. I tell him about London, Boston, and he tells me he admires me. He’s the only member of the Syndicate that has ever seen past the scandal. “It’s hard for men like us…” he says, catching me off-guard with that sexy dimpled smirk. “Legacies, I mean…”

Fuck. Something is definitely getting hard. But the way he says ‘legacies…’ it makes me feel…seen. Like he understands what it’s like. I’m out as a gay man, but my proclivities are still shushed, swept under the rug, almost non-existent. As if I never came out in the first place. I’m a fly on the wall at most Syndicate meetings or simply excluded from them entirely. Like he was, which was odd. I heard he had a mental breakdown after his initiation, but I don’t really know. Like I said, I’m considered furniture these days.

When he drops me off at De Novo, telling me I can find him at Inferno, and then shows me his mask. It barely takes me an hour anda half to go up to my room, shower, shave certain areas, change, and order a car to take me there.

He’s not on the first or second floor which means he’s probably on the fourth floor. The VIP floor. Where everyone from the bouncers to the wait staff look the other way.

When I step onto the third floor, the most cliché thing happens to me. I’m looking around, trying to find that mask and when I do, dark hazel eyes find me over the throngs of sweaty, dancing bodies. Time slows, my heart beats wildly in my chest as he takes a puff from his cigar and tilts his head back, the smoke rising with the steam coming from the dancefloor, adding to the smokey atmosphere that smells of drugs, sex, and sweet, delicious sin.

Fuck.

He lifts a brow, that sexy fucking smirk on his face. I inhale, trying to get a sense of what I’m feeling as he stands to greet me.

“There you are.” His voice is lower than it was in the car.

God, those fucking lips.

“Here I am.”

He hands me a drink, a little watered down but that’s fine.

“Your friend?” I ask when I realize he’s alone. Has he been waiting for me?

“Never showed,” he replies with a shrug, taking a sip from his drink.

It takes everything in me not to grin as wide as I want to. “Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” he repeats and he steps back into a darker, more secluded area, ordering himself another drink. I step a little closer to him. He smells absolutely divine with undertones of… a female perfume. Except, when I get a little too close, he tenses.

“I never thought you swung for the other team.” Which is the truth. Then again, he’s probably just better at keeping secrets than others. Like myself.

He smirks and leans away from me, taking that delicious scent with him. “I bat for one and occasionally bat for the other when the need strikes.”

Occasionally? I ponder that over the last of my drink. I set the drink down, running my finger over that plump bottom lip of his, I bet it tastes like watermelon. If I bite into it, would it burst all over mytongue? Fuck I wanna watch him bite into it while I have him on his back, rutting into him. “Prove it.” I challenge. I want this man to kiss me. I want to forget about being ignored. I want to forget about burying my cousin only hours ago. I want this man to devour me, my cock. I want to watch mine disappear into his muscular ass…

Except when I ask him to prove it, an older man, wearing a mask that matches his comes up behind him. “There you are baby. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you decided not to show up.”

Jonas looks stunned. He turns his head, and the older, greying Frenchman grabs his throat from behind in the most possessive hold I’ve ever seen. Jonas opens his mouth in surprise and the older man attacks his mouth, a peek at his strong tongue dives into his mouth, raw. Primal. Claiming. Jonas relaxes into his hold while silver eyes that remind me of melting glaciers hold my gaze.

When he finally releases Jonas, they both seem in a daze. “What are you doing here, amour?”Love. That’s his love. Jonas has aboyfriend. A hot, older boyfriend. Not a Raven. Is she a front?

“I see you’re making friends without me. Did you tell him about ourpetitdéesse?”

Our?

Jonas blushes the most adorable shade of pink. “I hadn’t gotten there yet.”

“Your girlfriend?Bothof yours?” Shit that’s fucking hot. Jonas is just full of surprises. Wait, do they share Raven? Could I fuck Jonas and kidnap her while they slept? Take her back to Father, where she belongs. Sure, I’d probably have to knock her out and she’d wake up disoriented…

“Oui. I fuck her and she watches while he’s getting fucked.” He says so fucking casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I don’t care to fuck Raven but… Jonas? Does he ever fuck Jonas while Jonas fucks Raven? “It’s very… comment dit-on… amusant?”

“Fun.” I rasp, my cock thickening in my slacks. The Frenchman’s hand goes from around Jonas’ waist down to his waistband and untucks his shirt in a movement so smooth, it looks so natural, so normal between them.

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