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5. McQuinn

5

McQuinn

T his bar looks like it's where herpes originated, but they have cheap beer and billiards and that's exactly what I needed three months ago when Oz and I first came here. The place has mold growing on the ceiling, dim lighting, and a crowd that projects a don't-mess-with-me attitude. The music comes from an old radio sitting on a shelf behind the bar and the bathrooms smell like daddy issues and regret.

"What were you even doing in a place like this?" Nils runs a finger along the sticky bar top.

I shrug off the question. It was when Nils went home to Virginia to see his family. I wanted him to invite me to go with him, but he didn't. I was grumpy as hell about it, so Oz brought me here.

Four drinks more than normal, a winning streak at pool, heartache, and Nils being out of town, led to me impulsively placing a bet when Oz went to the bathroom. $250,000 that Pack Hart would medal in the Paris Olympics. I planned to use the money to pay for Nils's medical school… What the fuck was I thinking?

"What's this guy look like?" Nils asks.

My gaze skims the room, but I don't see who I'm looking for—even though he said he comes here every night—so I head to the bar. I want to get this over with, but I'm also enjoying having Nils to myself for the first time in a while. Today scared the shit out of me just as much as the rest of us, and what I need right now is my man, a stiff drink, and for this whole gambling mess to be behind us.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asks.

"A whiskey on the rocks for me and…" I look at Nils, waiting for him to answer. He usually gets a whiskey sour, but I don't want to make an assumption.

"Whiskey sour," Nils says.

I smile to myself, pleased that I know him so well.

"Hey, man," I tap the counter, trying to work out the nervous energy, "is Glenn Plansky here?"

The bartender narrows his eyes and gives me a once over. "In the back."

While he gets our drinks, I search for Glenn.

"I can't believe you're intimidated by a guy named Glenn Plansky." Nils leans against the bar top and continues to scope everything out. "I bet he spent a few days in high school shoved in his own locker."

That might have been true, but the guy is too broad to fit in anyone's locker anymore, and I can't picture him as anything other than the hulking alpha bully he is now. I don't think Nils is taking this seriously enough.

"That's Glenn," I discreetly motion towards a man in the corner, wearing a black button down and a little too much hair gel, but with an air that he gives zero fucks.

I head over to him, but Nils grabs my arm and stops me. "Wait."

He takes a seat at the end of the bar, close enough to Glenn to hear what he's saying to the blonde man he's with, but far enough to not look like we're eavesdropping. The bartender brings our drinks. The whiskey is cheap, and it burns down my throat, but helps calm my nerves.

"I just need more time." The blonde man's voice ends in a shaky waver. We're sitting close enough to hear Glenn crack his neck as he adjusts his shoulders and the calming effect of my whiskey evaporates.

"I gave you forty-eight extra hours." Glenn's voice is deeper than the other man's. "A timeframe that should have been ample motivation if you truly wanted to keep your house."

"See what I mean?" I say, swallowing down the last of my whiskey.

Nils leans into me, kissing up my neck until he can whisper in my ear. "Everyone has a weakness. We just have to find his."

I should be focusing on what he's saying, what we're trying to do, but all of my attention is on the way his kisses singe my skin. Taking his cue, I trail my tongue along the ridge of his ear. He shudders, and my cock throbs against my jeans. This always came naturally to us. It's the talking that hasn't. But he's an Aquarius, so that makes sense.

I whisper close to his ear, "How the hell are you gonna find this guy's weakness?"

"Not sure." Nils admits. His cheeks already have the hint of a flush from the drink. Nils gets self-conscious about it, but I love the alcohol-induced blush he always gets. "Patience, I guess."

"We don't have time for patience. We leave for Paris the day after tomor—"

Nils grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into a hard kiss, which is when I realize I hadn't whispered any of that. Discretion has never been a strength of mine.

He adjusts our position slightly so he can watch the man over my shoulder while he keeps my mouth busy. I try not to be offended that he's able to pay attention to something else while my lips are on his, but I'm an insecure shithead. Especially since we haven't had much time together lately. I feel better after finally opening up to him, but he's spent every night since then in the nest with Meggie, and it's getting to me.

I drag a hand slowly up his thigh and deepen the kiss, brushing my tongue over his, watching him carefully. My other hand climbs up his back and into his hair. Nils always loves when I play with his hair. That's what finally tips him over the edge. His eyes roll back. His hands clutch the front of my shirt and pull me closer. We kiss like we're starving for each other. Which I am. I haven't kissed him since that night in the jacuzzi when I told him about my bet and confessed I love him.

I take out all that frustration on him now. Tugging his hair hard, I suck his tongue and bite his lip. He moans and I push my palm so high up his thigh that my thumb brushes his length. His hard length. He's mine now. It might have taken a screw up to get him here and alone, but I almost think it was worth it for this kiss.

"I missed you," I moan into Nils's mouth.

"I'm right here."

The sound of breaking glass pulls us apart. Glenn has the blonde man slammed against the wall, his forearm at his throat. "You want to cancel a bet, you pay double for it."

Shit! Double? That answers our question about Glenn's policy on canceling bets. He's not going to be reasonable about this.

It's illegal for athletes to bet on their own games in the first place, let alone a bet of this size with a guy that could break my kneecaps and probably enjoy doing it. I wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass for even thinking about being this stupid.

While I try to think of other options, two beefy alphas drag the offending gambler off. Glenn catches the bartender's eye and places a bill on the table. The bartender turns up the music, and it drowns out whatever is happening in the next room.

"Guess I was right about the risk to my kneecaps," I try to joke, but it comes out slightly strangled.

Nils shivers, a mix of adrenaline, fear, and a spark of arousal I can feel from where my hand still rests on his thigh. Is it possible my man gets off on a touch of danger?

"Should we wait and talk to him?" I ask.

His eyes burn with a dark intensity I've only seen once before—when Meggie was taken. "I'm not letting you anywhere near that man ever again."

Seeing Nils worked up and protective over me is a rush unlike anything I've ever experienced before. We're both alphas, used to power, but right now I want to drop to my knees in submission to him. It's like the first time we were together, when Nils surprised me with his dominance and rocked my world. I feel the same burn in my chest that I felt then. The same fiery arousal making my dick pulse.

"What do you want to do, alpha?" I ask.

His chest swells when I give him the honorific. "First, we're going to go out in the alley and you're going to suck my cock like a good boy."

"Mmm, yeah." I groan, grip the back of his neck, and kiss him hard.

Nils smiles when we break apart. "Then, we're gonna win the Olympics."

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