Page 9 of The Man of the Hour

Then he’d lurk in the shadows to catch a glimpse of her exiting the backstage door. Given her cold, sneering attitude toward him, the last thing he expected to see was Sonia leaving with a different guy after each set of shows.

The first time infuriated him the most. Sonia stalked out of the theater, wrapped in a fuzzy gray sweater dress that hugged her luscious ass, along with red cowboy boots and a black bomber jacket. She greeted the other dancers with a brisk nod. But when a handsome, dark-haired man stepped forward, she held up her face for a kiss.

Jealousy.Another new feeling. It swirled through Brendan’s stomach, tightened his throat, and pulsed hot behind his eyes. A tiny part of him watched with detachment as his fist clenched at his side.So this is how it feels.

His fingers dug into his palm as this interloper, who looked like he was in his thirties, offered Sonia a bouquet of enormous pink and white lilies. And Sonia? She gave him an actual smile.

Shesmiled.At this man. Who'd just been downgraded from interloper to bastard.

Her smile was gorgeous. It transformed her forbidding face from avenging goddess to bright angel, lifting the dark slashes of her brows and lighting up her eyes.

Brendan couldn’t look away.

“Stargazer lilies! My favorite,” she exclaimed, sniffing the lilies blissfully as Brendan strained his ears. “Thanks, Marco. How’d you know?”

Marco, the bastard, smiled modestly. “A little bird told me.” He nodded toward one of the dancers, a tall girl with a cloud of curly black hair, who laughed.

Marco offered his arm, and Sonia took it. But when he glanced away, she looked impatient. From the shadows, Brendan watched them leave, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

“He's wasting his time.” The voice came from close to Brendan, startling him. It was the leggy girl with the curls, whispering to another dancer. “They’ve seen each other twice already. Tonight’s strike three. I’m surprised he's even lasted this long. She's probably putting up with him because he bought VIP tickets for the season.”

“Come on, Elena,” the second dancer whispered back. “You really think they’re done already?”

“Trust me. Her whole heart’s in this company,” Elena insisted. “That guy won’t get any of it. She gets bored too easily.”

“Plus, people annoy her,” giggled the second dancer. Turning, she noticed Brendan. “Hey, cutie. Are you lost?”

Automatically, he gave the dancers a friendly smile and buttoned his coat. “Not at all. Amazing job tonight. Loved the show.”

That was in November.

A few weeks later, Ian and Diana visited DC.

They saw Sonia first, since Brendan was swamped with work, then stayed at his place for a few days. Brendan had stocked the cupboard with Di’s favorite snacks and the fridge with beer for Ian. He rarely drank it himself anymore, except to keep his brother company.

“B’s getting all snooty on us, only drinking whiskey and craft cocktails,” Ian teased, swigging his beer in the living room.

Draped over his lap, Diana laughed. “He’s got an image to maintain. Hasn’t he always? It’s just a little different for Washington, DC.”

Brendan shrugged and smiled. His tastes had genuinely changed, but it didn’t seem like the time to say so.

Later that night, they all ended up in bed together.

It should have been bliss. Snow falling outside, Diana on top of him, kissing him eagerly, as gorgeous and sexy as ever, her heavy breasts brushing his chest, his cock buried deep in her pussy while Ian penetrated her ass from behind. The three of them, as close as could be.

He'd always thought sharing Diana with his brother was like coming home.

And it was. Like going back to the twins’ childhood home, with its swimming pool and treehouse, next door to Diana’s. The home that had been so big and sprawling when he was a kid, and now felt a size too small.

While Ian and Diana moaned through their feelings for each other, Brendan suddenly wanted, for the first time, to be someone’s main attraction. But he knew he was only a sidecar in this setup. A teddy bear, a security blanket for Di.

A doll.

A Brendan-shaped toy.

The comparisons rolled through his head, pulling him straight out of the moment, until he wondered if he'd be able to come.

When he did, it was because he pictured Sonia. Riding him, her eyes blazing with scorn, her focus all on him. Only him.