Page 106 of Gemini Kings
Zara
“Cheese on toast! Are you fuckingshittingme?”
I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, still wearing my uniform, with my stockinged legs swinging while Vasili shucks oysters for the big pot ofbouillabaisseRonin’s whipping up for thedomusdinner. The yeasty smell of baking bread wafts from the oven, and my tummy’s definitely ready to rumble.
Now, in my total fucking shock over the news grenade my Goblin King just casually lobbed, I almost fall off the counter. “You mean to tell me that dragon actuallykissedyou? And you fuckingslappedhim for it? Shit, Vasili.”
Of course, the fact that we all figured Maxim was mostly straight, and majorly homophobic to boot, has been one of the primary obstacles (but definitely not the only one) to him joining our polycule.
Not to mention one of the primary obstacles to me, you know, rising.
If my dragon—I mean,thedragon—is going to go around kissing my warlocks now, that puts him in a whole new category of possibility.
Which begs the obvious question.
Even though I pretty much know the answer.
I swing my feet and ask anyway. “So, uh, why’d you slap him?”
“You’d do better to ask him why he kissed me,” Vasili says, wielding his knife to pry open an oyster with a ruthlessness that would make any crustacean’s blood run cold. “That wretched worm was mocking me and I won’t stand for it. He fondly imagined he could torment me as he pleased and that I’d be helpless to retaliate due to Lucius’ charming ultimatum. I merely disabused him of the notion. Somewhat violently.”
“Well, I hope you didn’t overreact.” Because Vasili’s no joke when he’s violent, and that dragon’s seen enough violence in his life. My own face is already stinging in sympathy. “Did he slap you back? Because he’d be entitled under the terms of that promise he made to Lucius. Since you swung first.”
“Hekissedfirst.” Vasili shucks a fresh oyster with an extra-vicious twist. Which totally leaves me wondering if Vasili kissed back. My snake is a goddamn sphinx when he wants to be, and I can’t read him at all right now. He’s beingverycryptic. “The inciting offense was sufficient, believe me. He completely demolished my lip gloss.”
“Real kiss then, huh?” I probe.
“Hmmm.” His mascara-coated lashes effectively screen his eyes as he assaults another oyster. I think the critters are still alive and cringing in that briny bucket he’s pulling them from (even though they’re not, like, sentient), and this has to be a traumatic way to go.
Death by Goblin King.
“And after you hit him, he didn’t swing back?” I nudge a little more. I’m getting more and more interested in this whole fascinating kiss. The more evasive Vasili gets, the more determined I am to tease the whole truth out of his dark and snaky heart.
Vasili doesn’t even hum this time. Which I’m taking as a no. Maxim took the hit and didn’t hit back.
Ronin and I exchange a meaningful look.
“What makes you fancy he was mocking you?” Looking sexy as fuck, all barefoot in distressed denim and one of his silky button-downs, Ronin’s sampling the soup with a wooden spoon and pillaging Lucius’ spice rack in a hunt for oregano.
Except now he’s paused the proceedings to give Vasili his full attention.
Vasili sneers at the terrorized oysters. “What else could he possibly have meant?”
“Same thing a bloke usually means when he kisses a bloke, yeah?” Ronin says dryly. “I think Neo’s got it right. That dragon’s hot as fuck for you.”
“Dear God, don’t be absurd.” Vasili lowers his knife and arches an eyebrow in icy disdain.
I seriously envy his ability to do that nifty one-eyebrow trick, but I’m way more focused on what Ronin just said to get sidetracked by my snake and all that sexy.
“What’s so absurd about it?” Calmly Ronin drops a massive tangle of clawed crab legs (looking horribly like a giant spider) into the pot. “I’ve been mulling the whole bit over. He pitches up on your yacht a lonely little runt and, well, you’re you. Lad probably got an instant raging crush on you, but he couldn’t act on it due to all that religious bullshit. All tormented and guilty and whatever. Then he sees you fellating your Italian, gets jealous as fuck, tattles to your dad—”
“Jealous?” Vasili scowls. “There was very little to be jealous of, I assure you. Aside from his colossal cock, that Italian was barely interesting, believe me. Besides, Maxim was a teething infant at the time.”
“Oh, c’mon. He was fifteen, if I’ve got the age gap right,” I chime in. “Hardly an infant, Goblin King. I was fucking at that age. Shocker, I know.”
“Early bloomer.” Ronin grins at me, then shifts his gaze back to Vasili. “Bloke’s probably been fantasizing about you ever since, and feeling conflicted as fuck about it. Either way, based on what just went down in that library, he’s definitely got the hots for you now.”
“Oh please,” Vasili murmurs, dismissive in the royally imperious way only the Goblin King can be. “You’ve simply got dick on your delectable mind, darling. You’re in heat and you’re delirious.”
