Page 11 of Touched By Destiny
“You’ll do,” was Richard’s final verdict, reaching out to tug on Eric’s shirt again. No detail was ever left unnoticed by Richard, and he’d continue to fuss until he was satisfied that they all looked perfect.
“What does that mean?” Eric asked.
“Well, if I dressed you the way I originally planned, you probably wouldn’t have agreed to even put the outfit on,” Richard mused. “But I bought it anyway. We’ll consider it an emergency ensemble for the future. Now, I’ve poured a few shots for you. Put your shoes on. Drink the vodka. Then we’ll go downstairs.”
“I don’t want to get drunk,” Eric replied, but he sat and tugged on the pair of soft leather boots his brother handed him.
“Please. Our gorgeous bodies metabolize too fast. You’ll get a nice little buzz that’ll get you on the dance floor, and it’ll wear off before the first song ends.”
“Fine,” Eric said, grabbing the shot glasses and downing their contents quickly. A slight burn slid down his esophagus but only lasted for a few seconds.
Maribeth slid her arm through Eric’s and steered him toward the door. “Now, relax. We’re going out to have some fun. We’ll dance. Flirt. Tease a few boys and girls. Then we’ll head home and sleep. I don’t want you to feel any pressure or focus on anything besides how best to move to the music, okay?”
“Mari’s right,” Richard said, leading them into the hallway. “But I did arrange for keys to rooms for all three of us, so if we wanna get lucky, we’re all set.”
Eric laughed. “Mari’s the only one who will use her key.”
“Which is why I’m so much more pleasant than Richard,” Maribeth teased. “I didn’t spend hours dolling myself up so I could go to bed without stripping this dress off for someone at least once tonight. It’s impossible for me to find my soulmate if I keep myself closed off like Richard, and I want to find the person meant for me.”
“I’ve had sex before,” Richard argued. “I’m just very picky.”
The alcohol was swimming beautifully through his system as Eric wove his way toward the front door, andhe chuckled again. “Three times, Richard, and you’re almost thirty.”
“Says the virginal boy,” Richard retorted saucily. “You’re a few years behind me. Try catching up.”
Eric made it to the foyer, and Gabriel was standing near the door, waiting for them. He didn’t say a word as the three Marwoods headed in his direction, but there was a furrow between Gabriel’s light brown brows. Something about the fierceness of his expression on that handsome face had Eric’s belly flopping in arousal. He licked his lips, which filled his mouth with the taste of strawberry gloss. Eric’s brain happily supplied a plethora of images featuring him and Gabriel in a variety of positions. If it were up to Eric, he’d eagerly cast off his virginity, but only Gabriel would do.
“I’m sure as fuck going to try to catch up,” Eric murmured as he continued to stare at Gabriel.
“That’s exactly the attitude I’m looking for,” Richard said. “Time to forget about our troubles and get our dance on.”
“And get our clothes hopelessly wrinkled,” Maribeth chirped as Gabriel held the front door open. “Maybe locate a soulmate or two.”
“By dancing or throwing them on the floor of a hotel room so we can have sex?” Eric asked.
Gabriel made a strange sound in his throat as Eric passed by him.
“Do whatever makes you happy,” Maribeth insisted.
“Hmm,” Eric said, still staring at Gabriel. His deep green eyes shielded his thoughts, and his mouth was a tight line, but Eric smiled guilelessly up at the man of his dreams. “Then I definitely want to strip before I go home tonight.”
Chapter 6
Nightclubs were now synonymous with torture for Gabriel. Across the room on a raised dais, Eric grinded his lithe form to the rhythmic pounding beat of the music, and Gabriel discovered true suffering. His frown was so severe none of the other guards posted around the perimeter of the space would speak to him. Which was fine with Gabriel. He was standing there half-hard and didn’t bother allowing his embarrassment to flourish.
The only saving grace in the entire situation was that Richard shooed away any man who too enthusiastically swept closer to his beloved brother. Douglas had met them at the club, and he was dancing right along with the youngest Marwoods. Something about his expression briefly caught Gabriel’s eye, and he wondered if Richard knew his inspirit and co-director had more-than-friendly feelings for him.
There was nothing to suggest Richard returned those yearnings. He was smiling, but his attention was almost exclusively centered on either Eric or Maribeth. Which was why Gabriel wasn’t surprised to find the misery on Douglas’s face warring with his enthrallment. It was a horrible mixtureof emotions Gabriel could sympathize with. He hated admitting how bad he had it for Eric, but Gabriel was ready to face facts.
Untouchable and unattainable, Eric was also the man he wanted. Death now loomed over Gabriel, and he hadn’t had nearly enough hours to adjust to his new reality. He couldn’t pretend his feelings about the future were the same as they had been the day before. Someday Eric would find the man of his dreams, and they’d share an eternity together. Gabriel bared his teeth at the thought and was glad he’d be too dead to watch the pair kiss, cuddle, and love. They would adore each other. It was impossible to believe otherwise. Anyone lucky enough to be with Eric wouldn’t be able to help falling for him.
Love was an elusive concept for Gabriel, and he’d never know the care of a partner. And it fucking pissed him off. Maybe Eric would meet him tonight. His soulmate. Gabriel could hardly forget Eric’s words from when they were leaving the house a couple of hours ago. Some lucky guy in this very room would strip Eric and hold that perfect body close as they fucked. Gabriel’s fingers flexed as he envisioned wrapping them around the throat of Eric’s imaginary lover.
As if he was already preparing for his night ahead, Eric peeled off his sheer button-down and turned to face Gabriel as he undulated to the thumping beat of the music. Behind him, Richard slid the skimpy garment Eric had removed through his brother’s belt and whispered something in his ear.
Eric nodded, and his eyes locked with Gabriel’s. There was too much distance between them to gauge the necromancer’s thoughts. That full mouth painted a glossy pink curved, and something inside of Gabriel snapped. Gone was the cautious voice demanding he steer clear of his lust and adoration of the man sinuously walking toward him. His blood thundered in his ears as he grew harder. His thoughts grew reckless, and he wondered—envisaged—what it would be like to take Eric.
What did he have left to lose? Would Gabriel go to the grave without one taste of him?