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Round, old, brown leather seats that stink of smoke and made sticky with your sweat and a little something else you think the workers forgot to clear before you, the new patron, took over this spot. The sound of a small live band playing light jazz over the bustle of conversations. A table full of empty shot glasses, a half-drunken Old Fashioned, and a well-used ash try. And, of course, Fearless’ Jericho, placed right where he can reach it in case something went wrong.
There was a part of you that always knew that you weren’t getting yourself in the best situation.
Everyone told you to stay away from the Underbelly of Mars. But that didn’t happen. Everyone told you to stay away from the Red Dragon Syndicate. But that didn’t happen either. But most of all, everyone told you not to get involved with brothers. Especially not those brothers. But to that, you say it’s not your fault for not really heeding that warning. Because they’re not really brothers, even though they say they are. So it doesn’t count, right? Right?
Who knows. And honestly, it’s far too late for you to care about specifics and technicalities. Because you’re already wrapped up in their little web. With no chance of running.
“Fearless-! Fearless not here!”
And no chance of hiding either.
“ Mmm …” You feel the man in question hum against your skin, but he doesn’t bother taking his head away from your neck long enough to give you a proper reply. He just keeps on kissing your skin- kissing over the marks he just made with a tenderness you didn’t think the guy was capable of when you first met him. But he has a soft spot for you. They both do. “Just a little more, sweetheart. You know Vicious gets to have you to himself when he comes over here.”
At the mention of his partner, you let out a small whine. A whine that Fearless drinks up with a small chuckle of his own as he softly promises you that he’ll make sure the other man won’t go overboard tonight. You nod weakly at him , your mind is still buzzing with all the drinks they poured down your throat. But you’re still in enough control to feel embarrassed about what’s happening and the thought of people seeing. And, of course, the thought of things escalating once you become outnumbered.
In all fairness, this is far from the worst position one of the boys has put you in public. Because at the moment, there are no hands up your dress (yet) or tongues down your throat (yet). And nobody is currently whispering in your about the twenty-four-hour hotel they want to take you to just down the street once they’re done with the job they’re supposed to get done here (again, yet ).
In fact, right now, you can even consider yourself lucky that Fearless hasn’t begged you to start sitting on his lap before Vicious comes back . He knows you can hardly say no to those eyes of his. And he knows that Vicious is more than fine with such an arrangement. Because it allows Vicious to do exactly what he wants to do to you while taking advantage of the fact that he has his partner around to keep you from squirming a little too much for his liking.
Oh well. That’s what you get for choosing to entertain the affection of men who consider themselves brothers. That’s what you get for choosing not to decide between the two of them and asking if they could share. That’s exactly what you get.
If your old friends and family were to see you now, you don’t know what they would think. But you know they would have never pictured you in a booth tucked away in a seedy bar in a dress that can only be described as too short. Moaning helplessly as one of your lovers locks his arms around your waist and presses you close to his side so he can paint your neck with more hickies than you can count. All while you wait for your second lover to finish doing who knows what the one of the club’s backrooms.
And speaking of your second lover…
“ Fearless,” Comes the sound of a gruff voice suddenly calling out the alias of the man currently attached to your side from just a few feet away. You recognize the voice instantly and find yourself sliding your eyes over to where the sound came from just in time to see and feel Vicious sliding into the booth on the opposite side of you, looking no worse for wear. Immediately, there’s a new arm snaking itself around your waist. One that’s a little more possessive than the ones belonging to their partner. One that physically tugs you away from the other man and into the newcomer’s side as his fingers come up to brush against the fabric of your dress that covers the underside of your chest. Teasing for both him and yourself that there’s more to come.
And despite the desperation he was showing earlier, Fearless ultimately relents and lets you go easily . No sly comment. No knowing look. Not even annoyed huff. Instead, he just backs off and reaches for the drink he started to neglect when the moment he realizes Vicious was the two of you alone for a long enough period for him to do some damage and takes a long sip, the leather seats of the booth creaking beneath him. Looking as calm and cool and collected as ever, except for the wrinkles in his dark suit and the even more messy look his hair has taken on.
“Careful with her tonight, Vicious ” You hear him murmur, a small smirk tugging at his lips once he finishes his drink. He puts it back down on the table with a small clink of the glass and meets your eye with a quick wink. “If you keep being too rough with her, she’ll be forced to pick a favorite. And we all know who she’d choose if it came down to it.”
His words come with a teasing lilt to them and a light laugh that you can just almost hear, even when it’s nowhere to be found. Fearless’ challenges always sound like that. They always feel like talking. Like all bark and no bite. But as you hold his gaze for a little longer, you can’t help but wonder if there’s a little something more behind that complicated gaze of his. You know he would never tell it to you straight. He and Vicious like to keep you and your “pretty little head” away from all their dirty business when they can help it. But this doesn’t feel like business. This feels like something you’re intrinsically involved with. And you’re not exactly sure how much you like the sound of that. Perhaps this is why people told you not to get involved with your brother. Especially these two.
Luckily, there’s a demanding little someone pressed into your side at the moment, reading to take your mind off of everyone and everything else but him.
“I’ll do what I want,” Vicious spits back at Fearless’ so-called challenge, before taking the arm he has wrapped around your torso and using it to grab your chin and turn your head in his direction. Immediately, your eyes are ripped away from Fearless’ soft brown-eyed stare to come face to face with Vcious’ hardened stare- half hidden behind his unkept, pale hair. And you can’t help but feel just a teensy, little bit scared. Because the soft spot Vicious has for you isn’t always as obvious as the one Fearless has for you. And because a soft spot, doesn’t inherently mean he’s going to be gentle. “Remember…she’s mine too.”
It just means you’ll always be his in ways that hopefully won’t hurt too badly.
And you find yourself riding on that hope the second Vicious draws you in for a deep, forceful kiss. It’s hard and controlling just a hint of need- like whatever he disappeared to do less than ten minutes ago wently badly enough for him to start feeling like he was missing you. Like he needed to claim you for himself again, even in front of his own partner. Even in front of the man he agreed to share you with all those months ago.
Now, the grip he now has on your jaw is almost enough to be bruising. And the harshness of the kiss was enough to get you to squeak out in surprise before you were even able to squeeze your eyes close and follow his lead. Because there’s not much for you to say or do or even go when he’s pressing you against the back of the booth and tugging at your bottom lip with teeth that always bit a little too hard for you to keep yourself from being a little noisy. There’s not much for you to do except to be kissed and kissed and kissed so hard you start to feel dizzy as Vicious steals every last gulp of air you have left in your lungs.
But even though all of that, you still hear it.
You still hear the soft, easygoing sound of Fearless’ casual “Of course,” in response to his partner’s words and actions. But as always, there’s a hint of something more there. Something that feels sharp and piercing, like a bullet from the gun still on the table. Something that reminds you that the men you’re dealing with now never go down without a fight. No matter what.
So the more you think about it, the more you realize that you should have heeded that advice. You should have been more careful. You shouldn’t have made such risky decisions. You should have stayed away from Mars’ Underbelly. You should have stayed away from the Red Dragon Syndicate. And most of all? You should have never gotten involved with them. You should have never gotten involved with men who called each other brother. Because you knew things were going to be complicated. Because you know no one could share forever. And because you don’t think that either of them will ever let you go.
Not now. Not ever. And certainly , not without a fight.