Page 8 of Wreaking Havoc (Demon Bound #1)

7

Sascha

S ascha crept down the stairs. It was possible Kai was still sleeping—God, let him still be sleeping—and Sascha needed every minute alone he could get.

What had he been thinking ?

He hadn’t been thinking, obviously, because why else would he have been jerking himself off to Kai growling outside his door?

Idiot. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

But he’d been hard and horny and weak; may the gods of sexual frustration forgive him. He’d retreated to bed early, hoping to get away from all the stupid temping muscles in his house and distract himself with online shopping (and there were quite a few packages he was most definitely going to regret coming his way in two business days or less). But it hadn’t been enough. So then he’d turned to porn, specifically videos of blond twinks getting absolutely railed by massive dark-haired men.

But that hadn’t been enough either. He’d kept thinking of Kai, Mr. I-Can-Smell-the-Desire-on-You Demon. And look, was it really Sascha’s fault he’d been born a size queen? Why would fate tempt him like this?

No , he scolded himself, turning at the foot of the stairs. Your propensity for big dicks does not excuse you lusting after a creature from another dimension.

Although, it was hard to remember why when he tiptoed into the kitchen to find Kai already there waiting for him, a surprisingly charming grin on his face. “Sascha,” he purred. “Good morning.”

God, he made Sascha’s little kitchen table look like doll furniture.

Kai’s expression gave nothing away. It didn’t look like he’d been listening to Sascha jerk off in his bedroom just the night before. Maybe the growl hadn’t been about that? Maybe he’d been…securing the premises or something, scaring off any potential baddies.

And maybe Ivan will show up to your door tomorrow in a rainbow fucking tutu.

Kai was in his demon form, but the shoulder armor was missing. Not sure what else to say that wasn’t, “Hey, hear anyone masturbate lately?” Sascha asked the only other thing he could think of. “Why do you only cover your shoulders? Why not your chest or, like, your belly?”

Kai’s brow furrowed. “That would cover my most vulnerable areas.”

“Um, yeah. Exactly.”

“It would be a sign of weakness.”

“Oh, of course.” It took everything in Sascha to contain his eye roll. Maybe Kai was more his type than he’d thought. That was maybe the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.

Kai waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Besides, no human weapon can kill me. And no demon in this realm would attempt it.” Then he winked at Sascha. Which, frankly, should be illegal for someone that hot to do. “So you don’t need to worry, pup.”

Sascha bristled. “I’m not worried .”

But Kai was already changing the subject, sidling closer until his body heat was warming Sascha’s skin, staring hopefully at the phone in Sascha’s hand. “Have you summoned our coffee yet?”

No, because I was hoping you’d still be asleep, you goddamn walking wet dream.

Sascha cleared his throat, the scent of smoke and spice making him a little light-headed. There was too much sexual tension here for one house to hold. They needed to expand their perimeters. “Put your human suit on,” he ordered. “We’ll get the coffee ourselves.”

“We’re going out?” Kai’s eyes lit up at the suggestion.

It was stupidly endearing.

“Just let me get dressed.” Sascha started to head back upstairs, then turned back. “Um. None of my shirts are going to fit you.”

Kai stared at him for a moment, then waved a hand, a black shirt appearing on his broad chest out of thin air. He grinned smugly. “I can procure my own shirt.”

Sascha gaped. Closed his mouth. Gaped again. He shook his head. “Why the fuck can’t you procure coffee for yourself, then?”

Kai frowned at him like he was being unreasonable. “How could I? Clothing is simple. Foodstuffs are…complicated.”

Sascha had no idea what to say to that. Was it his life now to have his mind blown every day before it was even a reasonable hour? He shook his head again for good measure and went to get dressed.

The walk to the coffee shop was…distracting. Specifically, Kai was distracting. His magnetic pull did not seem limited to Sascha—everyone whose path they crossed stared, with varying levels of subtlety. It had Sascha’s hackles raising.

He knew logically that it was only natural. There was something about Kai that stood out, even as a human, even wearing a regular black long-sleeved shirt instead of his demonic armor. There was an air about him that just didn’t quite seem to fit in this modern, mortal day and age.

Or maybe it was just the tattoos crawling up his neck.

Either way, people were going to stare.

That didn’t mean Sascha had to like it.

And yes, Kai was a giant, tattooed, gorgeous hunk of a man with a waterfall of silky hair down to his pecs, and he looked like sex incarnate, but he was Sascha’s giant, tattooed, gorgeous hunk of a man, damn it. He’d summoned him, fair and square. He’d even had his finger nibbled to seal the deal. So all these other jerks should just keep their damned eyes to themselves.

He opened the door to the bakery a little more forcefully than he maybe should have, striding in with Kai hot on his tail. The demon did not seem to know much about personal space, barely allowing a few measly inches between them at any given time.

“Oh, hey!” Seth raised a hand in greeting, his eyes on the pastries he was rearranging. Then he looked past Sascha, his eyes growing wide. “Um, hey, did you know there’s a real-life Viking behind you?”

Sascha let out a deep sigh. “I was thinking more like a Highlander.”

“Oh, cool. So I’m not hallucinating him.”

“If only.” But judging from the very real body heat at Sascha’s back, neither of them were hallucinating anything.

“I see the coffee,” Kai whispered directly into Sascha’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

He stepped forward deliberately, putting space between them. “Yes, of course you do. That’s why we’re here.”

He knew he sounded peevish, but he hadn’t slept well, had he? He’d been plagued mercilessly by horny dreams, and it was this giant brute’s fault.

“Two coffees?” Seth asked, looking between them with a slight smile on his lips.

“Yes, please.” Sascha’s eye caught on Seth’s green fingernails. “I forgot your nail polish.”

“You can keep it longer.” Seth’s smile grew, showcasing a dimple in one of his round cheeks. “You only got the one hand.”

Sascha glanced down at his right hand and the bare nails there. His pinky finger was tingling again. He curled it under the rest of his hand. “Oh, right. I look like a lunatic, don’t I?”

Seth shrugged, pouring out two coffees. “Maybe you’ll start a microtrend.”

Sascha shook his head with a smile. “You’re sweet.”

He tensed. There was that heat at his back again. Were all demons this clingy? Kai’s breath caressed his ear again. “Make him give us all the coffee he has.”

“I will not,” Sascha hissed. He glanced back, his irritation deflating when he caught sight of Kai’s unbearably hopeful expression. He sighed again—he was doing a lot of that these days—and turned back to the counter. “Seth? Better make that four. Four very large coffees.”

Coffees secured, Sascha led Kai down the path he’d walked the other day, this time taking it all the way to its natural end: a small, sandy beach surrounded by rocky outcrops at both ends, the lighthouse around the bend just barely visible.

In a minor miracle, there was no one else there. Sascha wasn’t quite sure why they were there, other than the fact that his home still felt too small to contain both the two of them and his own inconvenient lust.

Kai had already finished two coffees just outside the bakery—and were demons immune to burning their tongues or something?—so Sascha handed the third over now.

Despite the eager greed in Kai’s eyes, he hesitated, hand outstretched. “You don’t want it for yourself?”

“One giant coffee is enough for me, thank you,” Sascha told him. “I prefer lattes anyway.” He couldn’t help watching as Kai sipped at the offering with open glee, slowing down to savor it this time around. “So what do we do now?”

Kai peered at him knowingly over the cup’s rim. “I can’t help you until I know who your enemies are, pup.”

Sascha turned his gaze out to the ocean. “I need to call Ivan, then.”

A shiver ran through him, courtesy of the harsh coastal breeze. Or maybe that was just from thoughts of his brother. What would Ivan do if he knew Sascha had a demon on his side?

He’d see it as a threat, of course. He’d see Kai as a threat. And by virtue of that, Sascha as well.

A new weight settled on Sascha’s shoulders. He glanced down to find a coat covering his shoulders, over his own jacket. A very large coat. He looked to Kai, in his shirt and soft pants. “You don’t get cold?”

Kai grinned at him. “I run hot.”

“I bet you do,” Sascha murmured to himself. Raising his voice, he pointed out, “Ivan might not be very forthcoming.”

“Then we’ll keep trying until he is.”

It was a little pathetic, how comforting that was. A reminder that Sascha wasn’t doing this alone anymore. He had an ally now, didn’t he? And sure, he’d had to give up a piece of his literal soul to gain one, but it was the first time in a very long time where he felt certain there was at least one person who had his back. One person who couldn’t send him away, or brush him off, or run away themselves.

At least not yet. Not until the contract was over.

Sascha took out his phone and hit Ivan’s name.

His brother picked up on the second ring. “A phone call? Unprompted? Are you done pouting, then?”

“Jeez. Good morning to you too.”

“I’m afraid I’m rather busy today.”

Sascha glared out at the ocean. God, typical Ivan. Acting like a loon when Sascha didn’t pick up every single one of his calls, then immediately pushing him away the second he actually reached out. “I’ll get to the point, then. Which family is it that’s after me?”

There was a pause on the other end. “Why so curious?”

“Don’t I have a right to know?”

“You’ve never cared before.”

Sascha couldn’t help the shrill edge to his voice. “Well, I’ve never been stabbed before.”

There was another pause, and Sascha was almost certain Ivan was going to keep his silence. But then he spoke. “The Carusos.”

Sascha actually knew that one. “The Italians?” he asked with surprise.

“I cut off one of their shipments. A large one. They lost quite a bit of money.” Sascha could almost hear his smile. “They’re calling me a tyrant.”

“Okay, the Carusos. And?”

“And what?”

“What are you doing about it?”

“At the moment?” There was the sound of rustling paper in the background. Was Ivan even paying attention to Sascha at all? “Nothing.”

“Well, why the hell not?” Sascha asked through gritted teeth, vaguely aware of Kai removing the coffee he’d been sloshing about from his hand.

“I already told you.” The first hints of true impatience entered Ivan’s voice. “One underhanded assassination attempt is hardly a declaration of war. I’m not willing to start one.”

“I thought I heard you telling Sergei they were small potatoes.” See? Sascha listened. Sometimes. Mostly because the name had sounded a little like the name of one of his favorite restaurants, and he’d been hoping someone was ordering lunch.

“They have connections.”

“And those connections are more important than me being knifed?”

“You healed up nicely, didn’t you?”

Sascha hung up.

If he hadn’t, he would have said something truly regrettable, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about the Carusos, because Ivan would kill him instead. Alexei had always claimed Sascha had immunity to Ivan’s wrath, that Ivan coddled him, but half of that was just Sascha knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

His phone rang. He turned it off.

“I miss Alexei,” he found himself muttering. Alexei would at least have been properly upset that Sascha had been knifed.

The cold ocean breeze was cut off as Kai’s body warmth enveloped him once more, his chest pressing against Sascha’s shoulder. “Who’s Alexei?”

Sascha found himself leaning into that warmth. “My other brother,” he said with a sigh. “My better brother.”

Fuck, that was a mean thing to say. Good . He hoped Ivan felt the sting of it, somehow, over in his ivory business tower.

He tilted his head to look up at Kai, the start of a wry grin on his lips. One that fell as soon as he caught sight of the demon’s face. He looked furious.

Sascha frowned at him. “What’s your deal?”

“You were stabbed?” Kai asked, his eyes roaming over Sascha like the wound would reveal itself if he looked hard enough.

“Oh. Yeah. My arm.” Sascha held a hand to his right bicep.

Kai’s hand covered his, turning Sascha gently to face him fully. “And you kept this from me?”

Was he supposed to give Kai a running tally of all his old boo-boos? “I guess I forgot to mention it?” he said.

“You forgot,” Kai repeated, his nostrils flaring.

God, this was like his conversation with Ivan all over again. Pissy alpha males acting all weird and cagey. Sascha huffed. “I didn’t mention it because I don’t like to think about it, okay?”

“Show me,” Kai ordered, his voice rough.

“Ugh.” Sascha wrinkled his nose. “Why though?”

“Show. Me.”

“You’re bossy when you’re cranky, you know that?” When Kai only stared back at him, Sascha pushed his lower lip out into a pout. “It’s too cold with the wind. Maybe when we get home.”

“We’ll shelter in the rocks.” Kai released his shoulders and grabbed his hand instead, tugging gently. “Come.”

Sascha let himself be led to a spot on the beach that was adequately sheltered by the rocks. Kai set their empty coffees to the side and removed the coat from Sascha’s shoulders, setting it on the sand before tugging Sascha down on top of it.

Sascha rolled his eyes but settled cross-legged where he was placed, Kai kneeling at his side. He shrugged out of his own jacket, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up to show the scar. “See?” he asked, as pissy as could be.

Warm fingers caressed the pink scar tissue. “It still pains you,” Kai said softly. “I had thought you merely uncoordinated.”

That wasn’t exactly incorrect—Sascha’s disastrous two-week stint on his boarding school’s baseball team was evidence enough—so Sascha let it slide. “The asshole grazed a nerve,” he explained. “They were able to mostly repair it, but sometimes my fingers get a bit tingly. I’m just…aware of it, I guess.”

Kai tugged at his sleeve. “Take this off.”

“Why?” Sascha asked, eyes widening when Kai shrugged out of his own shirt, revealing miles of bare skin. “What are you doing ?”

“I can heal it.” Kai frowned again at the scar, like it had personally offended him. “Heal it completely.”

When Sascha made no move to undress, he cocked a brow. “Don’t you trust me, zaychik?”

God, wasn’t that the fucking question? They’d made a bargain, sure, but trust was a tricky thing and not one Sascha had much practice with. He loved his brothers—both of them, however flawed—but one had abandoned him without a thought, and the other had the temper of a rabid hyena. His own mother had left him as a baby.

Where was the trust in that?

But there was something about Kai. Something beyond him being a hottie of epic proportions. There was a gentleness to the way he treated Sascha, bossy arrogance aside. Like the way he’d stopped Sascha’s imminent panic attack in its tracks. Or the stupid coat Sascha was now sitting on, protecting him from the cold sand.

Sascha had wanted to turn to him for comfort yesterday. It had taken everything in him to stop himself from curling up into Kai’s chest like a goddamn kitten. That something about him seemed to scream safety .

Was that just a side effect of him holding a piece of Sascha’s soul hostage?

Did it even matter?

Sascha reached for his hem and tugged off his shirt.