He was worried, too.
Because even now, in broad daylight, his eyes kept lingering on the line of Vlad’s square jaw, which accentuated his full lips, and his mind kept conjuring up dirty thoughts like stopping the car, straddling Vlad’s lap and slowly unbuttoning that pristine suit. He imagined dragging his splayed fingers up and down that muscular chest, stroking the taut six-pack before moving his hand down and—
Sebastian squirmed in the driver’s seat and adjusted his dick as subtly as he could.
Stop being such a teenager, he told himself, frustrated with his horny, idiotic body. Having sex with Vlad seemed to have made the problem worse, not better.
The sound of Vlad’s mobile phone going off broke the tension in the car.
Sebastian glanced at the mirror. Vlad took his shades off and answered the call.
“Yes,” Vlad said tersely, his gaze flicking up to meet Sebastian’s in the mirror. They both averted their eyes quickly.
“Thanks,” Vlad said before hanging up.
“That was my contact in the police,” Vlad volunteered, to Sebastian’s surprise. “One of the men that attacked you yesterday talked, and the police managed to stop another high-profile kidnapping last night. My contact says it shouldn’t be long before they catch the rest of them.”
Oh.
“So I can finally go home,” Sebastian said.
“Not everyone in the cult has been caught yet,” Vlad said.
“I know, but they’re less dangerous now that their numbers have dwindled,” Sebastian said. Bullies fed off each other’s hatred and anger and, more often than not, were too cowardly to act on their own.
Vlad didn’t disagree, his expression impossible to read.
Sebastian bit his lip as a new thought occurred to him. If—when—he moved back home, he wouldn’t have to put up with Vlad anymore. In fact, he was unlikely to see him again unless he went to see Luke.
Instead of making him feel relieved, the thought was...a little strange. In such a short time he’d gotten used to Vlad’s constant presence, to the little thrill he got whenever he managed to rile Vlad up and—
Sebastian shook his head with a grimace. The bigger the distance between them was, the better. Last night proved that he couldn’t trust himself where Vlad was concerned: couldn’t trust himself not to end up on his back under Vlad if Vlad decided that he wanted him. The thought was humiliating and infuriating.
“I’m moving out as soon as the rest of them are caught,” Sebastian said.
Vlad said nothing, his face giving nothing away. Looking at Vlad’s inscrutable expression now, it was hard to believe he’d been inside this man just last night.
But it had happened. It had.
Sebastian didn’t know what Vlad was thinking, but, given Vlad’s background and upbringing, it was probably safe to presume he was freaking out behind that unflappable façade.
Sebastian felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew he was lucky to have such an understanding, supportive family. He couldn’t imagine growing up in an environment so hostile and abusive toward what he was.
He could sympathize, but it didn’t mean he had to like the guy. Because he didn’t. He didn’t. Granted, after what he had learned about Vlad’s childhood, it was hard to keep hating him, but Sebastian still didn’t like him. And he definitely didn’t have a crush on him.
The thought made Sebastian blush and scowl. The sooner he put some distance between them, the better it was for everyone involved. If Vlad was anything like Mike—and all the evidence suggested he was—he would repress the hell out of his homosexual feelings and pretend to be “normal” for the rest of his life.
Sebastian’s phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting his thoughts.
“Damn,” he muttered, looking at the busy street, and pulled the phone out clumsily. Putting it on speaker, he returned both hands to the steering wheel. He’d never been a very confident driver.
“Hey, babe,” someone said with a strong Italian accent. Someone very familiar.
Sebastian smiled. “Hi, Antonio.”
He and Antonio Bonaventura had known each other for ages, having entered the modeling industry about the same time. Sebastian wouldn’t call them friends, but they were good acquaintances—and casual fuck-buddies whenever they were in the same town.
Sebastian smiled a little as he listened to Antonio’s melodic voice talking about everything and nothing. Antonio was a bit of a gossip, but a harmless one.
“I’m coming to London next week,” Antonio said at last. “I was negotiating with Armani, but DuVal made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Can I crash at your place? You know I hate hotels. And it’ll give us a chance to catch up.” The leer in Antonio’s voice was unmistakable. “I missed you, beautiful.”
Sebastian snorted, but before he could say anything, he felt a warm breath against his ear.
“Tell him no,” Vlad said, meeting Sebastian’s eyes in the mirror.
What?
“Tell him no,” Vlad repeated, harder, putting a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, his fingers brushing his bare throat.