halfway there.
And that wasn’t conceit. It was just fact. A lot of them were just intrigued by his height – bordering on 6’7 – or his muscled physique. Of the three brothers, he was the bulkiest, his shoulders, arms, chest and legs thick with muscle. He didn’t look like one of those body builders only because his body was longer than most. It made him looker slimmer.
The girls took one look at his bulging biceps, his angular face and his buzz cut and assumed he was military of some kind. He was usually turning away advances, some downright blatant. At the very least, he got stares and blushes. But the bartender looked at him like... hell, he didn’t know. No one had ever looked at him that way before. Like she could see through him. It was fucking disconcerting.
Drei stepped around a gaggle of young woman who were all gyrating on the dance floor. Several of them threw flirty, come-hither looks his way, but Drei ignored them. They were all too young, for one thing. He liked his women to be... well, women. Not girls. If any of these scantily clad dancers were over 21, he’d snuggle the next bloodsucker they encountered.
“Out of the way,” he growled at a couple who were practically fucking on the dance floor. He wasn’t a prude. They were just blocking the stairs to the VIP area. The chick, who had dyed black spiky hair and about three dozen facial piercings, lurched in surprise at the sound of his voice, and slammed into his right arm.
She was a slip of a thing but she jostled him just enough to splash the vodka tonic he’d gotten for Cat all over his chest. “Oh my gosh!” she breathed, wafting a cloud of rum fumes in his direction. “I’m so sorry. Here, let me...” She began wiping at his shirt with her hands, as if she could swipe away the moisture soaking his t-shirt.
Her bright eyes glazed over and her movements slowed until she was essentially fondling his chest. Drei couldn’t help the grin that quirked his lips. He raised an eyebrow at the scrawny, blue-haired boyfriend. The guy scowled and tugged at her arm. “Sorry, dude. Come on , Raven. Let’s go!”
Raven let herself be tugged rather reluctantly away. “Shade, wait. We should help!” Her eyes were fastened on Drei. He winked at her. Shade, though he was willing to bet that wasn’t the boy’s real name, yanked her back into the crowd.
Drei continued on the table where his brothers and Cat sat waiting for him. As he’d thought, Cat was practically straddling Em, grinding on his lap while she shoved her tongue down his throat. He couldn’t see where his brother’s hands were on the curvy brunette. Drei was pretty sure he didn’t want to.
Grig was scanning the crowd, doing his best to not watch the couple as they essentially dry humped in the booth. He looked a little relieved when he saw Drei approaching.
“Alcohol!” He reached for one of the beers. “Excellent.”
Drei set the other one in easy reach of where Em’s hand would be if it ever returned to the table. “How’s the science project going? Bet they didn’t even realize I was gone.”
“You’d lose. As usual. Where’s my vodka tonic?” Cat spun on Em’s lap, face flushed and her lips kiss swollen. Drei would never admit it out loud, but he liked the feisty Mundane reporter. And she’d proven herself loyal so far, not breathing a word about the existence of their kind, despite her media connections.
Plus, she’d been willingly submitting to all the tests the docs were putting her through to figure out how she and Em could be Mated. Some of them were pretty painful, but she hadn’t complained at all. At least, not to him.
Em grunted amusement over his mate’s shoulder. “He’s wearing it.”
Grig snorted, sipping his beer. Cat raised one thin brow.
“This isn’t some weird ploy to get me to lick you, is it, dog boy?”
Drei scowled. “Not even if you begged me, pussy Cat.” Em gave a little growl, baring his teeth. But Cat just rolled her