“Well now. I don’t want you thinking of me like a brother. Not at all.”
Dylan’s gaze swept to Harper’s mouth. A subtle flush lit Dylan’s cheeks and seemed to brighten the green of his eyes. “Trust me, I don’t think of you like a brother. I can barely handle my annoying siblings as it is. Adding you to the mix would be like throwing gasoline on a fire.”
Harper put a hand over his heart. “Harsh, Doc.”
“Call me ‘Dylan’.”
“Dylan.” Harper smiled, met and held Dylan’s gaze, then let it go. The heady rush of connection filled him, centering in his groin with a pleasurable thickness. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time—well, not since first laying eyes on Freddy.
“I need a drink,” Dylan muttered.
Dylan looked around, and Harper wasn’t surprised to see him narrow his gaze on Freddy instead of her fellow bartender. The woman looked good enough to eat. She had a slender build, short spiky blond hair, and bright blue eyes that looked almost too blue to be real. He knew for a fact she didn’t wear contacts—he’d asked.
Tonight she wore a silver cropped tank that glittered when she moved and showed off her toned shoulders and arms. When she reached high above her for a glass, he glimpsed a peek of her flat belly. A pair of black pants, boots and a silver belt completed her outfit. Freddy had her brow pierced and several tattoos on her lower back, which she’d jokingly referred to as her tramp stamps the last time they’d talked.
He liked her. She liked him. But with their work schedules, somehow they’d never quite come together.
She saw them looking at her, so she sauntered toward them and flipped a towel over her shoulder. The woman’s walk always made him wonder what she’d be like between the sheets. She had a sensual way to her that begged exploration.
“Hey, Freddy.”
“Harper.” She winked. “Who’s your friend? Don’t think I’ve seen him in here before.”
“Freddy Thompson, meet Dylan Warren.”
Dylan held out a hand and Freddy took it. To Harper, it seemed as if the world had shut down to enclose just the three of them. Freddy and Dylan locked on to one another, and he could almost feel the fireworks going off. He’d always felt chemistry with the blonde, and now she felt it with Dylan as well, a man Harper intended to get to know better. He started doing the math and fantasized about possibilities.
“So, Freddy,” Harper said in a deep voice, unable to hide his arousal. “Dylan and I are going to hang out and have a few drinks. Then I thought I’d show him around.”
“Oh?”
Harper’s celibate lifestyle the past few months was coming back to haunt him, because he found himself near two people that stirred his desire to no end. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and fuck them both like crazy. Where the hell had his infamous control gone?
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. Dylan’s never been here before.”
“So what is this place?” Dylan asked. “I had to sign a form just to get in. A private club, Harper mentioned.”
Freddy grinned. “It’s a place where people can hang out and do…whatever. I’m sure Harper will tell you all about it.” She glanced between the two of them, her interest obvious, yet she did nothing about it. Or maybe Harper was imagining things. “So what can I get you boys?”
They ordered beers, and she gave them two long necks and one glass and left with a wave and a smile.
She’d remembered Harper never used a glass. A good sign. Harper took a large drink, suddenly thirsty.
Dylan poured his beer into a glass, not surprising. Though Harper would have given a lot to see the man put his mouth over that bottle, he liked the sophisticated sensibility Dylan wore like a second skin. Yet another reason Dylan couldn’t pass as his twin.
Harper enjoyed the cold brew. “I don’t know about you, but I had a helluva day. Natalie was happy enough to sign off on your deal, but then I had to go mediate a bunch of other projects stalling in the city.” He sighed. “Not that I necessarily mind confrontation, but I feel like a peacemaker half the time, when I’d much rather be working with my hands.”
Dylan snorted. “You think your day had problems? I nearly got busted pretending to be my delinquent twin. I had to wear his crappy clothes, deal with your boss from hell, and then I had to meet my mother for lunch. That wouldn’t have been so bad. But I ended up dealing with her new boyfriend.” He downed the entire beer in one sitting. “I need another.”
Freddy returned to grab his empty before he could ask. “Another beer, or something else?”
“Scotch, straight. Hell, bring me two of them.”
Freddy nodded and left.
Harper studied his new friend. “Not liking your mother’s new man, eh?”
“No.” Dylan frowned. “I don’t know why the hell I’m telling you this.”
“Sure you do. You need to vent, and who am I going to tell?” Harper drank some more and studied Dylan, noting the way his brows drew close when he frowned, creating a small line between them. The way his lips pursed and looked fuller, sexier. The pulse ticked at the base of his neck, where his collared shirt parted.
“You want me to take my clothes off right here?” Dylan asked dryly.
“I wouldn’t mind. Neither would anyone else.” Harper grinned. “This private club is a place where sexual fantasy and all things taboo are accepted. Men and women play with guaranteed discretion. It’s also why the fees for membership are so high.”
Freddy returned at that moment, overhearing, and laughed at Dylan’s stunned expression. “Oh, he’s really new, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Harper licked his lips and took another drag on his beer.
“Like a bright, shiny new penny.” Freddy wiggled her brows at Dylan. “Enjoy your Scotch, sexy.” Freddy placed two glasses before him, grabbed another beer for Harper, then left them again to get back to customers waiting at the bar.
“A sex club in Augusta. Go figure.” Dylan took a sip of his drink. He tilted his head as he regarded Harper. “From the way you looked at me, then Freddy, I’m guessing you’re not particular about gender.” Fancy words, yet blunt enough to be understood.
“Nope. I’m just like you.” Harper waited to see if Dylan would admit it. To his satisfaction, Dylan nodded. Good. Not repressed about his sexuality, then.
“I’m bisexual.” Dylan shrugged. “Never made any bones about it if asked, though I don’t go around shouting that I’m bi from the rooftops.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Harper watched him drink, wanting to see those lips on him. Soon. He shifted on his stool to relieve the pressure on his dick. “Does Derrick give you shit for it?”
“All the time. But it’s a brother thing. He teases Gage about anything and everything too.” Dylan frowned at Harper. “You seem pretty tuned in to my brother.”
“If that’s your way of asking if I have a thing for him, the answer is no. I mean, yeah, he’s hot. Sexy, with those deep-green eyes and that fuckable mouth,” Harper answered in a gravelly voice, completely turned on by Dylan’s proximity. “But that’s just the outside package. Derrick’s more a friend. No sexual vibes there.” Harper liked that Dylan couldn’t seem to look away from his mouth.
The doc took another large swallow of alcohol before putting the glass down.
“That’s how I knew you weren’t him.” Harper scooted closer. “So how about you tell me what this morning was all about.”
Dylan groaned. “In a nutshell, I lost a bet. We wagered on a favor, which was my mistake. Derrick never loses. It’s weird, but the guy has all the luck.”
“Maybe he cheats.”