Prey To Predators

~SEREN~

As someone involved in real estate and construction, I’d seen my fair share of attractive men, yet none of them came close to the two seated effortlessly in that VIP booth, commanding attention without even trying.

Calling them handsome would’ve been an understatement.

A more accurate description would be that God created men, then men like Julian… and then created those two as an apology to the earth.

I wasn’t usually one to stare.

Yet, I did.

My gaze drifted to one of them first, tracing the way the dark waves of his black hair caught beneath the flashing lights of the bar and how his jawline looked almost carved to perfection.

A second later, my eyes shifted to the man beside him. There were hints of identical features between them, except his hair was brown instead.

Twins?

Needless to say, they were both equally fucking attractive.

And right now, they were both staring at me.

There was no mistaking it.

As if to prove I wasn’t imagining things, the brown-haired twin leans closer to the other. I see his lips move even though his eyes never once leave mine. Then the black-haired twin openly drags his gaze over my body in a way that makes me feel far too seen.

When my eyes meet the brown-haired twin’s again, the corner of his lips curls into a smirk that makes my heart stutter painfully in my chest.

Swallowing hard, I finally force myself to look away, ignoring how the air conditioner blasting directly above me suddenly seems useless.

I try distracting myself with the empty glass in front of me, but the whispers a few tables away and the constant awareness of their eyes on me makes it impossible.

They were staring… whispering.

I could feel it.

Why were they staring? What were they whispering about?

Did they find it amusing that someone like me—someone who was probably better suited hidden behind a desk and buried beneath paperwork—had shown up somewhere like this?

Was Julian right? Had I really lost so much appeal that I now looked pathetic enough for two ridiculously attractive twins to laugh about?

Suddenly, my palms around the empty glass feels clammy, and an unsettling feeling creeps over me, like I was sitting somewhere I didn’t belong.

The sound of a glass being placed in front of me pulls me from my spiraling thoughts. I blink down at the colorful drink once, then twice, before glancing up at the bartender.

“I didn’t order this,” I say.

“I know,” she replies before subtly nudging her head in a direction I’d become painfully aware of over the last few minutes.

Against my better judgment, I look.

My eyes immediately collide with a pair of seductive honey-amber eyes framed by soft brown waves that fall perfectly into his face.

The velvet shirt stretched across his broad shoulders strains slightly against his obvious biceps as he raises a glass of whiskey toward me, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I’ve never been someone easily affected by appearances, but that doesn’t stop my heart from immediately picking up speed, pounding faintly against my chest as I quickly look away and cross my legs, trying to ignore the uncomfortable heat beginning to pool between my thighs.

The alcohol, I assure myself while sliding the drink back across the counter with a shake of my head.

“I don’t want this. Just give me another shot of whiskey.”

The bartender lets out a heavy sigh before leaning against the counter again.

“Listen, missy. I’d happily keep feeding you alcohol to soothe your broken heart,” she starts, and I immediately frown.

Was I really that obvious?

“However, if I give you even a single drop more, I can kiss my job goodbye… and probably any chance of getting another one too.” She mutters the last part under her breath as she straightens, but I still catch it.

“Please understand my situation.” She pushes the non-alcoholic cocktail back toward me. “If you have a problem, take it up with those two.”

I stare down at the drink, then over at the twins who now look completely absorbed in an easy conversation, before looking back at the glass again.

Without hesitation, I stand and start marching toward their booth.

Freakishly handsome or not, who the hell are they to decide what I can and can’t drink?

They don’t know the kind of hell I’m currently living through.

As though sensing my approach, both men look up at the exact same time. Their eyes land on me, and beneath the intensity of their stare, my heart skips a beat.

But I don’t waver.

As I get closer to their booth, the black-haired twin lazily lifts two fingers and waves the approaching security guard away without ever taking his eyes off me.

Something about that simple gesture makes me swallow thickly.

By the time I reach their table, my heart is thundering wildly in my chest. I want to blame it on the alcohol, but deep down, I know it’s their gazes—the way they make my skin hum beneath the chaos of the club—that’s responsible.

Still, I refuse to let that deter me.

Handsome or not, these men are going to explain what gave them the audacity to cut me off from alcohol.

I don’t bother with pleasantries.

“The bartender said she can’t serve me anymore because of your orders,” I say bluntly. “Care to explain who exactly you think you are to decide what I can and can’t drink?”

Thankfully, my voice comes out steady.

Instead of giving me the straightforward answer I expect, the men seated before me exchange a look before the brown-haired twin finally turns his attention fully back to me.

He takes his time speaking, and when he finally does, his voice is a smooth, seductive baritone that slides down my spine and settles heavily between my legs.

“You don’t know who we are, princess?” he asks.

“Unless you’re two out of the seven hot Korean men I used to drool over when I was younger, then no.”

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and instantly, I feel like an idiot.

This is exactly why alcohol and I don’t mix well together.

Yet here I am, fighting for my right to drink with two insanely attractive men whose eyes keep traveling over my body like I’m some rare watch they’re considering buying from a Patek Philippe outlet.

“You come to a place like this dressed the way you are,” The black-haired twin’s voice is a deep bass that sends strange little somersaults tumbling through my stomach. “Does your husband know you’re here?”

My eyes immediately snap down to where his gaze has settled, and instinctively, I cover my ringed finger with my other hand before fixing him with what I hope is a stern look.

“Even if he did, it’s none of his business,” I spit out.

The mention of Julian instantly puts me on edge, and the two of them seem to notice because, once again, they exchange one of those silent, weirdly synchronized twin looks.

I frown, and before I can stop the alcohol from taking control of my mouth, the words slip out.

“Stop that.”

The brown-haired twin raises a brow at me, the corner of his lips tugging upward into a smirk that makes the heat between my thighs impossible to ignore.

“Princess doesn’t like the silence, Al,” he says teasingly.

Princess?

This time, I properly glare at him before catching myself.

God, what am I even doing?

I came over here to question why they took away my right to drink freely, not let them crawl beneath my skin—literally.

“What I don’t like is not being allowed to have my alcohol,” I snap. “Undo whatever it is you did and let me drink.”

“No can do, princess.” The black-haired twin shakes his head once. “Your little husband wouldn’t be too happy if you got dead drunk in our bar.”

I pause for a second.

Oh. So it was their bar.

Still, that didn’t give them the right to restrict my drinking. And why the hell did they keep bringing up Julian?

“I have a name, and it’s Seren. And to hell with my husband. If he can do whatever he wants, then so can I,” I say boldly.

The brown-haired twin raises a brow.

“Oh?”

Something about the way he says that has me exhaling softly, like I’m trying to release some of the heat steadily building inside me.

A smile touches the corner of his lips as though he’s noticed exactly the effect he’s having on me, and I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from looking away and fidgeting like a nervous child.

Fuck.

This had to be the alcohol, right?

Or maybe this was simply what happened when two insanely attractive men focused all their attention on you while everyone else watched from a distance.

“And why’s that… Seren?”

My name sounds dangerously good rolling off the black-haired twin’s lips, almost too good, and I glance toward him just in time to catch his eyes slowly sweeping over me again.

He’s checking me out.

Shamelessly.

Heat floods my cheeks and ears.

Curse the alcohol.

Maybe I really shouldn’t drink anymore.

“Why’s that, Seren?” he presses, his gaze locking onto mine, and something about the intensity of it has my lips moving before I can stop myself.

“Because I’m in an open marriage.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I wish the floor would split open and swallow me whole, but somehow, I still keep talking. “I’m in an open marriage, so I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Silence settles over the table.

Once again, the twins exchange one of those strange silent looks, only this time, I catch the brown-haired twin mouthing something soundlessly to his brother before a chuckle slips from his lips and he turns back to me.

“So that’s why you show up here dressed like that, getting drunk in our bar?” he asks, his gaze washing slowly over me before briefly lingering on my chest.

When I glance down, I instantly feel like digging a hole and disappearing into it.

My nipples are hard, painfully visible through the thin material of my dress.

When the hell did that happen?

“Did your little husband already find himself some entertainment to warm his bed?” he asks casually.

I shouldn’t be having this conversation with complete strangers, yet here I am, crossing my arms over my chest in a pathetic attempt to hide my nipples, only succeeding in pushing my breasts up more.

I catch the way the brown-haired twin bites down lightly on his lower lip at the sight while his brother sinks deeper into the couch, releasing a slow, controlled breath through his nose.

Strangely enough, the reaction sends a thrill through me, making me shiver.

“And so what if he did?” I ask.

Silence settles over the table for only half a heartbeat. 

“Then why not get back at him?” The black-haired twin suggests. 

I frown slightly.

Get back at Julian…

“... How?” The word slips from my mouth before I can stop myself, and a slow smile spreads across the brown-haired twin’s lips, revealing a row of perfect teeth as he leans back leisurely against the couch.

“What better way to celebrate your little open marriage,” he drawls smoothly, “than getting fucked by the two of us?”