Page 37 of Atlas and the Traitor

“Will that make you forget about it?”

Another slip, a truth offered in return. “For a little while.”

Their gazes locked, truths and sorrows acknowledged, commiseration accepted, before Atlas flipped open the shirt-kilt, took his cock in hand, and continued to jerk himself. Robin wasted no time unfastening his jeans and getting his own cock out, the cool air barely grazing his overheated skin before it was enveloped in scorching heat, Atlas’s mouth closing around him while he continued to stroke himself.

Pleasuring them both.

Robin threaded his fingers through Atlas’s thick blond waves, held on tight, and forgot about everything but the heat flooding his senses, the whisper of spring chasing away the chill he hadn’t escaped in far too long.

Twenty-Six

It felt good to work again, even if Robin did always feel out of place at Club Sutro.

Jeans, flannel, and hair that hadn’t seen a proper cut in years didn’t exactly fit the mold of Yerba Buena’s most exclusive club. This was more Icarus’s scene, alluring courtesans winding through the crowd of wealthy patrons. It had been Paris’s too, before he’d settled down, heirs like him nursing high-end booze from crystal glassware that somehow survived the thumping music. And before Paris was even old enough to frequent clubs, Sutro had been Deb’s scene, a place for her to let off steam and dance with her husbands after dealing with pack business and work trips.

“You want another beer?”

Kai’s question knocked Robin out of the past and back to the present. He glanced over his shoulder at Paris’s other best friend, Jason’s raven partner, who was working the bar tonight. Robin traded his empty for the fresh bottle Kai offered. “Thanks.”

The raven disappeared to the opposite end of the bar, waiting on another customer, and Robin turned his attention back to the packed club. One would never guess that two months ago a giant had come crashing through the ceiling, the furniture and walls had been riddled with bullet holes, and a certain blond warlock had stood atop the backbar and fired a crossbow bolt into another giant.

Tonight, Robin was hunting a different blond: Glen Brewster, a six-foot-two bear shifter who led a loosely affiliated group of his kind that inhabited the coastal woods north of YB. And Robin wasn’t the only one on the hunt for Mr. Brewster. In one of the large booths by the windows, a feline shifter of some sort was trying and failing to fit in with the other patrons in his booth who were drinking and laughing merrily. And on the dance floor, a pair of humans were getting all kinds of attention as they put on an amorous couple looking for a third routine, inviting others to dance with them. A clever trap for Glen, if he ever showed.

Robin was beginning to doubt he would when finally the bear shifter strode through the door—with a big beefy arm looped around Atlas’s waist.

Not the plan.

So not the plan.

Atlas was on perimeter duty. He was supposed to radio when Glen was close, then stay outside, in case things inside went sideways and Robin needed an emergency escape snap while dashing out.

He wasnotsupposed to let another man put his hands on him.

The only thing that kept Robin from vaulting off his barstool was the fact Atlas wasn’t pretending to be Evan. He was very much in his Atlas element, blond hair perfectly coiffed, chin held high, wearing the kilt and leather harness he’d changed into at his condo.

Evan needed to see—or at least hear about—his twin being free and out in the open, no longer Robin’s prisoner. And there he was, on the dance floor at Club Sutro in another man’s arms. Two flashing neon targets for the three other bounty hunters in the room. “Shit.”

Jason squeezed in next to him at the bar. “There was an altercation outside,” he whispered low. The phoenix had already been at the club when Robin arrived, and because Robin still didn’t fully trust his mate, he’d roped Jason into reconning the recon man.

“Who?” Robin asked.

“Another bounty hunter. We dispatched him. Glen was going to leave, but Atlas convinced him to come inside and forget about it.”

Forget about it.

Robin clenched his teeth. Was that what Atlas said to all the guys? Had he just been giving him the same line earlier at the lake?

“What do you want to do here?” Jason asked as he raked a hand through his dark unruly curls.

“Kill him.”

“Yes, we all know. But like, right now, what do you want to do?”

Robin jutted his chin toward the hunter in the booth. “The feline shifter on the end there is here for the same reason as us. Get Kai to give you a bottle of bourbon on Adam’s tab, then go join them. Box the shifter in.”

“What are you going to do?” Jason asked.

“See the flirty human couple on the dance floor?”

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