“You’re late,” Sebastian said.
“Is that your gratitude?” Vlad grunted, his Russian accent heavier than usual.
Sebastian arched a brow and barely suppressed a grimace when he felt a dull pain. “For what? Doing your job?” He knew he should probably thank Vlad, but after the bullshit Vlad had pulled in the corridor he wasn’t feeling particularly genial toward him. Because there had been a part of him that had been terribly, awfully tempted to forget his promise to himself and take whatever crumbs Vlad threw at him. And he despised himself for that. How could he be tempted? Hadn’t he learned anything with Mike?
“If it weren’t for me, you would’ve come here with that useless bodyguard.” Vlad walked over, lifted Sebastian’s shirt and started feeling up his ribs. “Wanna take bets on your odds of being just a little less pretty in that case?”
A little less pretty?
“At least he would have been professional,” Sebastian retorted, squirming away from Vlad’s touch. “Stop touching me. I’m fine. I’ve had it worse.”
Vlad lifted his blue eyes from Sebastian’s ribs.
Sebastian met his gaze steadily, although he was painfully aware that Vlad’s hands were still on his skin, which felt annoyingly oversensitive all of a sudden, breaking into goosebumps under Vlad’s hands.
“You’re trembling,” Vlad said.
Sebastian tried to shrug nonchalantly. “It’s shock and adrenaline. I’ve been attacked twice within a few days. I think I’m entitled to feel a little traumatized.” True enough, but that wasn’t why he was quivering.
Vlad didn’t argue. His hand moved down, pressing against his stomach. “Does it hurt here?”
Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek. “A little.” He wished it hurt more so the pain distracted him from how good the touch felt. His belly had always been a bit of an erogenous zone and having Vlad’s hands there was driving him mad, his stomach quivering and heat rushing to his groin. He wanted to yank Vlad to him, crush their bodies together, feel Vlad’s thick cock drag all over his belly, before nudging between his legs—
“Love, are you rea—What the hell?”
His neck hot, Sebastian stepped away from Vlad and forced a smile when he saw Matt’s flabbergasted face. He could only imagine what the scene looked like from the photographer’s perspective: three gagged, tied-up men on the floor, and Sebastian who probably looked like he’d been hit by a truck. “Looks like you won’t be getting those shots in the gym, Matt,” Sebastian said, hating how breathless his voice sounded.
“Oh my God,” Matt said, a horrified expression appearing on his face. “Love, are you all right?”
“Yeah,” Sebastian lied. He felt anything but all right.
Four hours later, after Sebastian had given his account of the incident to the police, seen a doctor and had been declared healthy enough to go home, Sebastian felt absolutely beat. He had no energy to drive back to London, so he decided to stay at his childhood home. It was more convenient. Besides, he missed his parents and his sister. It’d been a while since he’d visited them. Not to mention that staying at his parents’ meant that he could have some respite from Vlad.
Except apparently Vlad had other ideas.
“Seriously, go back to London,” he told Vlad as they walked toward his parents’ house. “You’re not my bodyguard. You’re Luke’s.”
“I am your bodyguard until we return to London,” Vlad said, his face unreadable. “I spoke to Luke on the phone. He told me to stay with you. He’ll stay with the Hardaways until our return.”
“My parents’ house is very small,” Sebastian argued. “There will be no room for you.” It was true. His parents had refused when he had offered to buy them a bigger house; they loved their quaint little house too much to move elsewhere.
“I’ll live,” Vlad said with a shrug. “I don’t need much.”
Sebastian gritted his teeth. He was giving Vlad a perfect excuse to leave and put some distance between them. Why wasn’t Vlad taking it? Why hadn’t Vlad been making any sense all day long?
He shot Vlad an irritated look, but Vlad was looking straight ahead. Sebastian stared at his hard profile before tearing his gaze away and quickening his stride.
The sight of his childhood home made him relax a little.
Sebastian’s mother was the one to open the door. She gasped when she saw his face.
Sebastian smiled quickly. “I’m fine, Mum, really.”
Half an hour later, after everyone had finally calmed down, his mother insisted that they all have tea first before going to bed. As far as Melinda Sumner was concerned, tea fixed everything.
“I don’t understand how anyone can be so cruel,” his mother said, still looking upset. “I can understand if some people believe that we should love only the opposite gender—which is still wrong, but people can believe whatever they want to believe—but actually hurting innocent people because of who they love? Why would they do that? Why would they form some sort of cult just to hurt people who are different?”