Page 67 of My Brother's Best Men
Over Elijah’s shoulder, at the edge of the bar. Watching us.
Benny.
I’m torn between staying in Elijah’s familiar embrace and chasing down this oversized pain in the ass who doesn’t know when to let up. He’s been weird since this morning. Well, technically, last night.
Actually, the more I think about it, he’s been weird since I got home.
Elijah turns around, noticing Benny as well. “Shit,” he says. “You need to go?”
I debate telling him no, but I also know that with the way Benny’s looking at me…I need to talk to him. Just because we had a…moment of weakness…does not give him the right to act like this. All possessive and stalker-ish.
Besides, I don’t need him throwing the vibe off this weekend. In just two days, I’m going to have to walk down the aisle with this man and I don’t needthatto be awkward.
And it’s certainly heading into awkward territory right now.
Which is why I need to tell Benny how it’s going to be. He thinks he can boss me around and tell me what to do, and act like a damn grumpy bear, he’s got another thing coming.
“Yeah,” I say, letting my fingers twine in Elijah’s hair. “But I wish I didn’t.”
Elijah gives me a soft smile. “Just tell me one thing before you go.”
I look back at him. “What?”
“Do you believe me, now?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
I close my eyes letting my forehead fall against his.
“Can you feel how much I fucking love you?” His words are so soft I barely hear them.
I nod, trying to remember to breathe. “Yes.” My voice shakes as I regretfully push him away.
He nods. “Go. We can talk later.”
I move toward Benny and immediately he slips through the crowd, aggravating me once more. I pick up the pace, trying to run after him, but once again I lose him. I growl in frustration, hurrying to the elevator, just missing it as it closes with him in it.
When I get up to our level, I practically sprint down the hall, swiping my card and opening the door in haste.
“Benjamin Anderson, I?—”
My words fade into the ether as I see Benny, naked on the bed, his thick, pierced cock in his hand. He lets out a heady moan as he turns to look at me.
“Oh, there you are, kitten. Thought you’d never make it.”
The nerve of this man. I want to scream. I want to tear into him, tell him he’s such a fucking ass, and then I want to grab my stuff and slam the door in his face.
But I also can’t take my eyes off of him, sprawled out across the bed. I can’t stop staring at how slowly he strokes his cock, his piercing gleaming in the light.
Instead of telling him to fuck off, I ask, “Have you been following me all night?”
He smirks at me. “Yes.”
He doesn’t deny it, and while that pisses me off, it also makes my insides flutter.
“What the fuck?” I bite out, crossing my arms. “What is your problem?”
I force my gaze to meet his as he continues his soft, slow strokes. His cock begs to be stared at, but I refuse to look because I know if I do…I won’t be able to look away.
“You said this wouldn’t happen again.”
