Seducing His Brother's Best Friend

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Seducing His Brother's Best Friend Page 2

by E. A. Reynolds


  “You’re a bad bottom, Jase,” Ennis drawled. “You don’t know your place, little one.”

  “I can be obedient when you want me to,” he said breathlessly.

  Ennis suppressed a groan and fought the hunger that had his canines elongating to short fangs. He put his hands on Jase’s hips, needing to touch him. The demon wanted skin-to-skin contact, and the man hungered for it. “Would you?”

  “Every time,” he answered. “So, why don’t we—”

  “What the hell is going on?” Jarrett demanded. “Ennis get your hands off my little brother.”

  “Jarrett, I’m not a kid,” Jase snapped.

  “You’re not a fucking queer either,” he snarled as he yanked Jase back from Ennis. “Next time I see your fucking hands on him, I’m going to kick your ass!”

  “Don’t threaten your brother,” Ennis said calmly.

  “I mean it, both of you!” Jarrett snapped.

  “Get over it, Jar,” their friend, the dark-skinned Marty, muttered. “Your brother’s a damn queer. We’re all used to it by now. Hell, if you stop threatening every man who looks his way, he might actually get good and laid once in a while.” Marty gave Ennis a curious look. “Didn’t know you hit for both teams though.”

  “Telling you,” the bronze-skinned Bale added dryly, giving Ennis a questioning look.

  “I don’t,” Ennis said, holding Bale’s gaze a moment longer before meeting Marty’s. “I’ve always been gay. Now are we going to shoot some pool or what?”

  Chapter Two

  Despite a few initial glitches, everything was coming along well thanks to his actions of the last two months.

  He’d have the company running next week, and he would be impervious. To top it all off, his wife was pregnant, which meant he wouldn’t be the last of his bloodline.

  He glanced out into the gathering darkness of his sprawling backyard where solar lights were coming on, illuminating neatly landscaped gardens and a swimming pool-spa combo with its gorgeous island of low-cut trees.

  From poverty, he’d finally risen, but there was still some work to be done, he thought as he glanced up at the moon.

  “Honey?”

  He turned and saw his wife, Tonya, exiting his study. Consternation marred her brow, and he tensed. She was as ambitious as he was. She understood him and his needs for both power and status. That alone had made her worthy of being his wife. Her beauty and ruthlessness made her perfect for carrying his child.

  “What is it, Tonya?” he asked. Her ice-blue eyes snapped with annoyance.

  “I just got off the phone with Donna,” she began grimly. “The hit man was seen by a photographer who may have captured at least part of the event on film.”

  “Shit.” He drew in a breath after the sizzling curse and tried to keep his perspective from shifting. He had to stay focused or things could blow quickly out of control. “That’s a minor problem,” he said, running his fingertips down her bare arm as he centered himself in the softness of her skin. He took a pull of her energy, allowing it to filter up through his skin and throughout his body.

  “That’s not our only problem,” Tonya said urgently.

  He took another slow pull of her energy. It wasn’t as sweet as some humans. It was almost stringent, like raw onion, but the life she carried inside her took some of the sting out. “What else is there?”

  “Donna is certain now that Rebecca wasn’t the only one to come into contact with the files,” she told him.

  Those files contained long-forgotten information on the incubus species. He knew it told how they’d been exiled from their dimension in 1516 and were doomed to live out their existence here. The dictator, a chaos demon, had thought they would die here, but they had persevered and found a way to survive this place by feeding off humans for the substance they could only gain from their world’s atmosphere.

  “Her close friends Sondra and Amy are also a threat,” Tonya told him and he heard her contempt for both women in the hardness of her tone.

  Rebecca had uncovered part of the files kept by the historical society. Humans dismissed the incubus, the sexual demon, as a myth, but early humans of this city had taken note of the blue- and black-skinned beasts that would feed upon their young women and men. First there had been word-of-mouth stories and then they’d been written down, and Rebecca had stumbled upon a link as she helped Sondra put together an exhibit for the museum run by the historical society. The link led her to him and the early death stalker demon.

  “One of them will have the files. They must be taken care of right away,” Tonya said urgently.

  “I agree,” he said, his tone as hard as hers. The documents of their past weren’t all that Rebecca had taken and hidden. The files contained information on covert activities that would bring law enforcement into the picture.

  “We can’t take the risk of either of them making anything in those files known.” She shook her head, hands clenching into fists. “I swear if she wasn’t dead, I’d kill her myself,” she said through clenched teeth.

  He gave her a cold smile of agreement before going inside and picking up the cell phone he used for dark jobs. He punched in a number and waited half a heartbeat.

  “Yes?”

  The voice was dark and cold, which was so typical of the death stalker assassin. “You fucked up.” He fought to keep his anger in check because it would do no good to rake the man over the coals for something neither of them could have foreseen.

  “How?” the demon demanded coolly. “I did the job you asked for. She was the right target.”

  He drew in a calming breath. “You were seen by the photographer,” he snarled, keeping his tone low. “You need to fix this.”

  “You’re contracting another hit?” the hit man asked calmly.

  “That is exactly what I’m doing.” He knew there was little risk of the hit man ever being identified, but he needed that video. He paced out to the edge of his patio. “I want you to find the photographer, and retrieve the video and every other picture or video clip featuring Rebecca.”

  “Finding him shouldn’t be the biggest problem,” the assassin said.

  “What would be?” he demanded.

  “The gray spade is looking into the other murders,” the hit man answered.

  He squeezed his eyes closed in rage. “You fed off her?”

  “I needed to,” he retorted. “Now, is that all?”

  “I also want you to track down Amy and Sandy, Rebecca’s friends. I’ll send you their pictures. Find out what they know and then kill them. I’ll be putting you in touch with a contact that might be able to help.”

  “It’s your dime,” the hit man replied coolly.

  The nonchalance made him want to shake that bastard. “Wait for my call.” He disconnected.

  “What is it?” Tonya asked.

  “The gray spade is looking into the murders,” he said tightly. “I can’t have him connecting anything to me. He’ll come into my city looking for a war.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed coldly. “We can’t risk that coward Simmer finding out yet.”

  “I’ll just have to kill the bastard sooner.”

  Chapter Three

  “You just came on to him right there in Milligan’s?” Darik Johnson demanded, humor lighting his eyes. “You are lying. You don’t have the balls,” he accused in his soft voice.

  Jase grinned and picked up his coffee cup in the small space they’d designated as their lunch and lounge room. He leaned against the cabinet in the kitchenette next to the coffee pot while Darik stood there with the coffeepot held in midair. “I did!” he squealed. “I swear he was so hard.”

  “What’d he say when you palmed him?” Darik demanded, setting the coffeepot down.

  “His eyes got so dark—” Those beautiful sienna eyes had the most interesting swirls of copper in them, and his eyes had gone full-on copper when he’d palmed him. That had been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “He made me stop, but my b
rother came over and got all pissy.” He shook his head.

  “You’re going to have to stand up to your family,” Darik told him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I mean unless you plan on seducing Ennis into bed, having a wild affair with him, and then forcing yourself to settle down with some girl. Then, you’ll just have to wither away as you live vicariously through me. Poor you. I’ll purposely have as much sex as I can just to make you jealous.”

  “Bastard,” Jase muttered darkly.

  “Your fault. Unless you man up, and tell your family there is no way you’re ever hopping into bed with a pair of boobs.” He wiggled his brows teasingly. “Poor thing. Once you allow them to push you in that direction, it will be a downward spiral from which you’ll never recover.”

  “Thanks.” Jase made a face of distaste. “But that’s never going to happen.”

  “Yeah because once you start getting it on with Mr. Wonderful, he’s going to be so good it’s going to turn you into an assertive man.” He beat on his chest, lightly mimicking an ape.

  Jase rolled his eyes. “Go to hell.”

  “Your balls are getting bigger already,” Darik teased.

  “You’re such a dick, Darik,” Jase muttered, shaking his head. “I’m getting back to work. I have some pictures and video from the wedding to process.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Darik said, stopping him from leaving. “I have an idea.”

  Jase groaned and turned back to face him. “What is it?”

  “Let’s go shopping during lunch. We can pick you up something sexy for your next seductive excursion, and this time, make sure big brother isn’t around to stop you from at least getting a kiss.”

  Jase grinned. That was a good idea. Ennis had been hard as a rock when he’d touched him, which proved he was interested. So, he may as well strike again while the embers were still hot.

  * * * *

  As Ennis finished up some paperwork on his last case, his phone vibrated on his desk, and he picked it up. It was a message from Mercury. He signed the paper copies before turning his attention to the message.

  A new murder and guess what? Looks like our death stalker is doing more than feeding.

  Ennis checked out the pictures of the body. The woman in the pictures had been stabbed in the stomach and there was a burn on her wrist. It was indicative of a death stalker’s attack. His tongue would burn the mark into the prey’s skin, infusing the prey with a hormone that made it difficult for them to resist or fight him off.

  This woman had been powerless to stop him, so there had been no reason to stab her. No reason except she’d been a job.

  Son of a bitch.

  He didn’t have anything that gave him the right to accuse the incubus in Bossier of allowing his breed to feed over here. However, he could send him a friendly message. If he turned out to be connected to the murders, he’d hang the death stalker leader out to dry.

  He called his liaison, Mercury, and asked him to deliver the message. As he hung up, he scented Bale outside his door. “Come in, Bale,” he said before the knock came.

  The door slid open, revealing the six-foot man in his button-down and khakis. “Hey,” Bale greeted him, blue eyes guarded.

  “What’s up?” Ennis asked, giving him a curious look.

  “I wanted to talk to you about last night,” Bale said.

  “Jarrett put you up to this?” he demanded coldly as he leaned back in his chair. Bale’s father had worked for his as a houseman, but Ennis had trained Bale to work for him here at the agency, deciding he didn’t need a houseboy.

  “He mentioned it, but I would have done it on my own anyway,” he said, tilting his head up defiantly.

  Bale was of a breed of incubi that tended to be more beta and omega than alpha. They were good at taking care of things and people. As a result, they were more often than not attached to an alpha. The alpha afforded the black heart incubus and his family protection and a good life in servitude.

  “I know he’s afraid for Jase, but that’s no reason to try to force him to be straight,” Ennis said.

  “Jase can’t even protect himself,” Bale reminded him. “And look at him with his long hair and pretty face. Then, the way he dresses screams screw with me because I’m a queer.” He shook his head.

  He’d looked at him in his snug-fitting chinos in their various colors and his button-down shirts. That long hair was sexy and his look was perfect. “He’s a big boy, and he’s stronger than you two give him credit for,” Ennis answered.

  “He’s vulnerable to someone like you. You can seduce him with a simple smile.”

  “I know that,” Ennis replied. The incubus saw him as a succulent partner waiting to be claimed, but he also wanted to protect him. “So? What’s your stake in this, Bale? This isn’t just about warning me off a friend’s little brother.”

  Bale shrugged, his blue eyes flashing with warning. “I don’t want to see him get hurt. Your breed is notorious for being one-night tricks.”

  Ennis cocked a cool brow at him. He made no apologies for his breed’s refusal to take a companion for the sake of never being alone. He didn’t deny his loneliness either, but his breed more so than any other incubi was prone to become a danger to their lover.

  The gray spade loved deeply when they fell in love, and thus became dangerous when spurned. Most of them stalked and then killed the lover who’d stolen their hearts and left them. So, they couldn’t afford to be casual with their affections.

  Bale had no idea how truly dangerous a gray spade was because he’d never given his heart to one.

  Bale sighed roughly. “Maybe you should just fuck him and get it out of both your systems,” he muttered. “Jase obviously wants you.”

  “I thought about it, but—”

  “He deserves better than a demon that’ll just use him for a feeding pump,” he said, his expression twisting into lines of disgust.

  He’d never do that to Jase. He was special and had the sweetest energy he’d ever taken the minutest taste of.

  “You’re right,” Ennis agreed. But he knew if Jase came to him again, he wouldn’t be turning him down. “Now, it’s time to get to business. I think there’s a death stalker in our city.”

  Chapter Four

  Jase finished developing the pictures of the wedding two hours later and settled back with the video footage. The bride had asked him to edit out anything unpleasant such as the drunken speech by the best man. He edited that out and found nothing else offensive until he came to the end. Rebecca was on the phone, a hand on her hip and her eyes snapping with anger. Jase recalled having put the camera down to give her a minute to take a call. When he went back to get her well wishes, she quickly ended the call.

  He started to edit it out but found himself listening instead out of curiosity.

  “Sandy, I know what I’m doing. That bastard has no idea I know about him, and neither does this hit man. He just thinks I’m some needy loser he’s going to score with later...I am being careful, and you’ll—No, I have to finish this. I already have all the proof I need to get him convicted. If I wait much longer, I could be next. I have to go. The photographer is ready for me.”

  Hit man? He cut the footage and then made the usual back-up copies. One copy was saved to the computer, one sent to his cloud server, and another to a flash drive, which he labeled before storing. Then he made the copy for the police and labeled it before putting the CDs for the bride in cases. Once he’d finished, he put everything in an envelope and headed to the reception desk.

  “Leah.” He stopped in front of the round desk and leaned on the smooth counter. The wall behind it was painted gold and showcased some of Darik’s latest work.

  The receptionist looked up from her computer on which he knew she was playing some kind of game. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail showing off her neatly applied makeup. “Yeah, boss?”

  “Can you call Mrs. Claremont and let her know her pictures are ready?”<
br />
  “Sure, boss,” she agreed with a smile.

  The doorbell chimed, and he glanced over to find Marty’s older brother, Reynard, striding into the studio behind his petite, redheaded partner Megan Logan. They were the detectives handling Rebecca’s case. “Hey, guys.”

  They both returned his greeting as they approached. “Do you have the pictures and video of the wedding ready?” Reynard asked as the two men shook hands.

  He nodded. “Yeah, come on back.” He started for his office. “You guys need a drink? Water?”

  “No,” Logan said.

  “Yeah, I could use a drink,” Reynard said.

  “This isn’t a social call, Reynard,” Logan chastised as they stepped into the lounge.

  “It’s a little water, Logan, not a keg party.” He gave Jase a smile.

  “When we interviewed you yesterday, you said Rebecca was with a date, but the guests we talked to said she wasn’t with a date,” Logan said as Reynard guzzled water. “She was newly separated from her husband.”

  “Husband?” His eyes widened as he wondered if that’s who’d hired the hit man.

  “You also said you saw her in the gazebo. How could you see that far?” Logan asked. “I mean well enough to make a definitive ID There were some low bushes there that partially obscured it from view.” A frown marred her pretty fair skin.

  “I was looking through my camera,” he admitted.

  “Was her date wearing some kind of ring or anything that would have left a strange mark?” Reynard asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But while I was working on the videos—”

  “What did you find?” Logan demanded, leaning toward him.

  “Rebecca was talking to someone named Sandy on the phone about someone she thought hired a hit man.

  “I have the video clip,” he said, motioning to the door. “You want to see it?”

 

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