He shifts his gaze to it, nods, releases me.
“What did you do?” I ask him.
The doors open and Sebastian stalks off muttering something.
We follow him and watch as he searches his pockets for what I assume is his key.
“He started a fight. The other guy was removed only because they know us here.”
“A fight? Why?”
“Because this night fucks with him.”
Gregory shoves ahead of Sebastian and slides the key card into the slot on the door. The lock clicks, and a light flashes green. He opens the door and we enter.
Sebastian immediately takes off the jacket of his tuxedo and tosses it on the bed. He removes the bow tie and undoes the top buttons and those at his wrists, then pulls the shirt off over his head. He rubs the spot on his arm that Gregory was squeezing, rotates his shoulder once, twice. I have a closer look and see the dozen or so angry looking stitches.
“What happened?” I reach out to touch one.
He looks at me. “Nothing.”
He walks away, goes into the bathroom. I hear water go on.
“What happened?” I ask Gregory.
“The night you were taken, Lucinda shot him.”
“What?”
“He’s fine. We need to deal with this right now.”
Gregory picks up the phone, orders coffee sent up to the room.
I walk toward the bathroom, but Sebastian comes out before I go in after him. He’s wiping his face with a towel he discards a moment later.
He stops to look me over and looks a little more sober, although still not sober enough.
I look back at him, and he’s different tonight. Like he’s chasing away some demon and I’m not sure he’s winning.
Before I can speak, he turns to Gregory, stalks toward him. “Why did you bring her here?”
“I already answered that.”
“Did you tell her too?”
Gregory doesn’t look at me and for a moment, I wonder if he’ll tell Sebastian that I was in the mausoleum or if he’ll keep that secret. And I realize I’m a little afraid that he will tell because tonight isn’t the night I want to deal with an angry Sebastian.
A knock on the door saves us, though, and Gregory shoves past Sebastian to open it. He signs the check and takes the tray of silver service coffee.
Sebastian sits on one of the two armchairs and takes the coffee Gregory gives him. He looks at me as he drinks, and I sink to a seat on the edge of the bed. I decline the coffee Gregory offers me.
“You can go,” he tells Gregory, never taking his eyes from me, setting his empty cup down moments later.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Sebastian shifts his gaze to his brother, then, after a long, calculated minute, back to me.
“Come here, Helena.”
I get up, go to him. He spreads his knees and points for me to stand between them.
“Get undressed.”
My heartbeat picks up and I look back to Gregory, who’s leaning against the wall, watching. His arms are folded across his chest and his gaze is intense on his brother.
“No,” I say to Sebastian. “Not in front of your brother.”
“My brother wants his own Willow Girl. Did you know that?”
He leans back, tilting the chair a little.
“And he’s got his eye on mine.”
I glance back at Gregory who hasn’t moved.
“Now get undressed,” Sebastian says.
I turn back to him. “Sebastian—”
He slaps the flat of his hand on the table, making me and the coffee cup jump.
“Now, Helena!”
I look back once more as my hands tremble toward the hem of my sweater.
“Eyes on me. You don’t need to look at him.”
I swallow and do as he says. I pull my sweater over my head.
Sebastian nods and I toss it on the floor and slip off my shoes as I undo my jeans. I push them down and step out and set them aside too so I’m standing in black bra and matching panties.
“I don’t think—”
“You’re not here to think. Off. Everything off.”
It takes two tries when I reach back to undo my bra and I just glimpse Gregory’s reflection in the window. He still hasn’t moved. He’s watching. He wants to watch.
Sebastian is right. Gregory wants his own Willow Girl.
He wants me.
I hook two fingers into the waistband of my panties and slide them down and step out of them.
Sebastian nods in approval. He lets his gaze roam over me. It stops at my pussy and he reaches out a hand, touches the smooth skin.
“I like this.”
He grips my hips and draws me closer, lifts one leg, puts my foot on his thigh and dips his head in to lick the seam of my sex. A long, slow, calculated show of ownership that makes my breath hitch.
“You’re wet,” he says, leaning back. “I think having my brother watch makes you wet.”
I feel heat flush my face as Sebastian rises to his feet and grips my hips. He looks down at me and I see the want in his eyes.