Brock turns to glare at his brother.
“She needs the suppressants,” Dylan adds. “And unless you want to tie her up, it looks like she’s going with us.”
The image of Dylan tying me to a bed fills my mind, and I shift my thighs to ease the ache in my core.
Fuck. I need more suppressants ASAP.
Brock doesn’t say another word. He stands up out of his chair and leaves the table, his scent soured and muted.
I wait a good minute before speaking again. “Is he always this emotionally stunted?” I ask Dylan. Killian laughs.
“Not really,” Dylan adds. “He’s always been private. And he doesn’t like the idea of anything happening to you.”
“I don’t even think he likes me,” I mutter. “He’s barely spoken to me except for today. I can’t imagine he cares that much.”
“Oh, he does,” Killian adds. “As much as I don’t want to admit it. He barely stays in the same room as me, so it’s a miracle he lasted this long. It’s because of you.”
“Why do you hate each other so much?” I ask.
Killian shrugs. “I don’t hate him. I just can’t stand looking at him and want to stab him in the heart.”
An awkward silence follows.
“Oh.” I say. “Great.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and Dylan sighs.
“There was a…disagreement at one point,” he says awkwardly, combing his fingers through this hair. “And Killian’s made sure he’s never forgotten it.”
They don’t explain, and I don’t ask.
My stomach cramps, and a rush of arousal flows through me. My face flushes, and I try my best to keep to the subject at hand.
Now is not the time to fantasize about the two men in front of you.
“Fucking hormones,” I mutter to myself, and they both stare at me, eyes wide.
“We need to make a plan,” I add quickly. “I need these suppressants. I don’t want to be reduced to nothing but a hormonal mess. It will make everything awkward for us.”
“Well, not all of us…” Killian smirks, and Dylan elbows him in the side.
“Ow.”
“What do you guys need from me?” Dylan asks.
“A ride, mostly. A lookout, in case shit gets wild,” Killian says.
“Oh, and a police scanner,” I add, and Killian gives me a wicked smile.
“Naughty girl,” he chides. “My little outlaw.”
My face flushes, and slick drips down my too-expensive jeans.
“You’re a badass,” Dylan adds. “A beautiful one, as well.”
The mood of the room shifts, and their scents blend into one beautiful aroma.
Peppery pine.