Page 12 of Devil May Lie

It was midday and students kept coming and going. Most of them spotted him right away, either staring or pointing—some even snapped a few not-so-discrete photos. The parking lot shouldn’t be considered part of Brumal territory, and Madden hadn’t announced himself to the Brumal leader, so remaining here was the smart move, even if proof of his appearance got around campus.

Would the Butcher find out and avoid him though?

Madden scowled, not liking that possibility one bit. After he’d come all this way for him, Berga better not tuck tail and run like he had the last time. A part of him was still annoyed about that.

It’d taken a full week for Madden to realize why he was so irritable, his mood sour no matter how generically good or bad his day went. Because he’d felt it so infrequently, it’d taken a hot second to figure out the tightness in his chest was the first stirrings of pinning. Even after he’d realized, he’d spent another two days mulling the idea over in his head, certain it would fizzle on its own in due time.

But it hadn’t, and as of this morning, he’d been forced to acknowledge the obvious.

There was now another thing on that list.

Berga Obsidian.

Why he’d suddenly covet the Butcher was beyond him, but Madden yearned for things so rarely that he’d long since made the decision not to deny himself when that yearning did occur.

He wanted the Butcher?

Okay.

He’d have him.

The tricky question was…How?

After the way things had exploded between them, there was no way Berga was going to willingly roll over and let him insert his cock into that plush ass again. Madden had played with the notion of switching up his own tastes and bottoming for the Butcher instead, but the way he’d torn his hole when he’d brutally fucked into him had been the only unenjoyable part of that whole evening, and he really wasn’t too keen on a repeat experience.

Sun cream had taken care of it, but it’d smarted for a full day. When Madden had pinned Berga against the fridge, it’d taken all of his willpower not to flinch in front of the guy.

He’d drugged him and then accosted him. He should be furious and plotting his revenge.

Instead, he was out here like a sad puppy waiting for his owner to arrive so he could wag his tail.

“We’ll see who’ll be wagging for who,” he grumbled to himself, ignoring a particularly loud bunch of university girls who passed by too closely to his car to be a coincidence. Usually, he’d smile flirtatiously and wave just to get them off his back, but he just didn’t have it in him.

“What the hell makes your ass worth all of this?” Madden didn’t get it. Berga was hot, sure, in impeccable shape for a guy who spent all his time in a lab. But he was also weird and aloof and lacked social skills. He’d make for a shit romantic partner, and—

Wait.

Why was he thinking that far ahead?

He was here to find a way to get the Butcher underneath him again, not to ask the guy out on a date. Please. It was the sex he was after, just sex. Had to be. Berga was too much of a wild card for him to want anything more serious than that.

Berga was also Satellite. If he’d been anyone else, Madden would have coaxed him into his bedroom long ago. Or simply kidnapped him. He’d never had to resort to those types of extremes before, but other members of their groups had. There were very few people on the planet who’d turn down an offer from a Retinue member, let alone an Odell.

Tying the Butcher up though…having him completely, one hundred percent at Madden’s mercy…Yeah, he kind of liked that. A lot. So much, in fact, he felt himself starting to grow hard in his pants and had to widen his stance.

As if sensing what he was doing to Madden’s cock, the very object of his annoying desire finally made an appearance, popping out from between the science building and the large stone structure next to it.

Berga was wearing a white lab coat over his uniform, a pair of protective goggles resting atop his head. It’d only been a week, but more of his roots were showing, most of the black gone so that it was only dyed at the tips.

“Pretty.” He jumped down from the car and started for him, slipping his hands into his front pockets to prevent himself from doing something rash.

Like tossing Berga back against the building and kissing him.

Punishingly.

Possessively.

For the whole damn campus to see—

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