SIX
Qhuinn was out alone in Caldwell.
For the first time in his frickin' life.
Which, when he thought about it, was nearly a statistical impossibility. He'd spent so many nights fighting and drinking and having sex in and around the clubs downtown that surely one or two had to have been solo flights. But nope. As he walked into the Iron Mask, he was without his two wingmen for the very first time.
Things were different now, however. Times had changed. People, too.
John Matthew was now happily mated, so when he had a shift off, like this evening, he was staying home with his shellan, Xhex, and giving their bed one hell of a workout. And yeah, sure, Qhuinn was the guy's ahstrux nohtrum and all, but Xhex was a symphath assassin more than capable of watching out for her male, and the Black Dagger
Brotherhood's compound was a fortress not even a SWAT team could break into. So he and John had come to an agreement - and kept it quiet.
And as for Blay ...
Qhuinn wasn't going to think about his best friend. Nope. Not at all.
Scanning the inside of the club, he put his fuck filter on and began weeding through the women and the men and the couples. There was one and only one reason he'd come here, and it was the same for the other Goths in the place.
This was not for a relationship. This was not even for companionship. This was all about the in and out, and when that was over, it would be a case of, Thank you, ma'am - or sir, depending on his mood - I'm ghost. Because he was going to need someone else. Or someones else.
No way this was going to be a one-shot deal tonight. He felt like peeling his own skin off, his body all but chattering from the need to release. Man, he'd always liked the fucking, but in the last couple of days, his libido had gone Godzilla on him -
Was Blay even his best friend anymore?
Qhuinn paused and briefly looked for a plate-glass window to put his head through: For fuck's sake, he wasn't five years old. Grown males didn't have best friends. Didn't need them.
Especially if said male was banging someone else. All day long. Every single day.
Qhuinn marched over to the bar. "Herradura. Double. And make it the Selecci
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