Page 108 of Lured By Shadows

I shifted subtly in his arms, just enough to remind him I wasn’t a doll. The movement dragged heat between us, and his body reacted instantly. His hand stayed firm and possessive while his other slid to my hip, holding me in place.

When I finally looked up, his eyes were darker. Hunger held back by sheer force of will.

He looked built to ruin me.

28

“C’mon,” I whispered, tapping his hand gently. “Let’s sit down, Culv.”

His grip loosened, though the choice felt reluctant, hesitation clinging to the space between us like static. He let go anyway, allowing me to take the lead, and even as we walked, I could feel a phantom echo of his touch lingering across my skin.

“‘Culv’ is a cute nickname,” Rupert announced cheerfully. He had planted himself against the table like a cat choosing the most inconvenient place to lounge, one hip popped, and eyes bright with mischief. “You two are rather chummy together.”

Culver didn’t bother responding with words. Instead, he simply tugged me onto his lap with a smooth motion that surprised a tiny yelp out of my throat. His arm curled around my waist with thoughtless confidence, as if I belonged in that exact position and everyone else was merely witnessing the obvious.

I wrinkled my nose in a half-hearted protest, muttering something under my breath that came out entirely unintelligible. He got strangely territorial whenever Rupert was involved, like his brother had access to some internal lever that flipped him into guard-dog mode.

His thigh beneath me was cool and unyielding, a firmness that felt both grounding and annoyingly comfortable at the same time. The press of his chest against my back made my pulse kick up in places that were currently useless.

My hand drifted down the plane of his abdomen through his shirt, gliding over the hard ridges concealed beneath. He tensed under my touch, not resisting, only sharpening like a wire tightening under heat. With my other hand, I reached up into his hair, threading my fingers through the strands and discovering it was softer than it had any right to be, curling tight between my fingers.

Rupert, meanwhile, either refused to acknowledge the growing tension or delighted in pretending it didn’t exist. After I’d hummed in approval at my drink, he pointed at the bartender with a cheesy thumbs-up. He hopped up onto the table, placing one foot on the side, then stretched dramatically outward. Soroush lounged near him, focusing his attention on his phone rather than engaging in the conversation.

“What is it he calls you?” Rupert hummed theatrically, sliding his back onto the table before arching back up with quick fluidity. “Ah, yes. Little lamb. Quite an endearment for a pet.”

Culver’s eyes narrowed, and I puffed my cheeks out at the condescending nickname. I gave him a beat to say something, but the two of them were already locked in a staring contest.

“I dunno about you,” I said, “but I’d rather be called a little lamb over being someone’s pet any day. That just sounds like being beneath someone, don’tcha think?”

Soroush placed his phone on the table, clearly realizing Rupert was up to no good, but he stayed quiet.

“Oh,” Rupert’s eyes widened as if struck by revelation, “but you are the latest addition to the family. Our newest pet.”

He lunged forward before I could blink.

Culver’s hand shot out, intercepting Rupert’s own. It looked like he’d been planning to ruffle my hair. That was a massive no for me, but it seemed Culver wasn’t thinking about my dislikes so much as his own displeasure.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he ground out roughly.

I could hardly focus on the warning, though. His other hand wrapped around my waist protectively, and it felt almost surreal, the way he squeezed me against his body as if his life depended on it.

Rupert’s smile widened.

“It seems the kitty hasn’t been tamed yet,” he purred. “So I will have to wait to play with her until then.”

“Roo,” Soroush called, sliding his hand beneath Rupert’s arm to coax him backward.

Rupert listened without a second thought, gliding down onto the cushion beside his lover. Culver, on the other hand, remained rigid, glaring at Rupert as if he had sprouted a second head that needed defeating.

I gulped, feeling the quiet thrill build inside me.

There was something about the way his jaw clenched and his eyes sharpened that pulled me in, especially when he tugged me tighter against him like I actually mattered enough to shield me from whatever was happening. In that fleeting moment, it reminded me how badly I wanted to believe I wasn’t just some temporary distraction to him.

I wiggled in my comfortable seat on his lap, and that snapped his attention back to me. His eyes scanned down my body, then to where his hand wrapped securely around my waist.

“You are so petite,” he murmured, his eyes flicking back to mine.

“I guess it’s from dancing," I mimicked his tone. “I mean, I dunno if you know, but I dance.”