The Darker Side of Trey Grey by Tara Spears Read Free Book Online Page B

the bartenders would see her better. I leaned my back against the bar, and looked around without really seeing, my eyes being somewhat glazed over from the éclat before me.
    Molly turned around with something pink in a glass and handed me mine, refilled.
    “I think the dark-haired bartender likes you.” She took a sip of her pink concoction.
    “They all do.” I waved a hand dismissively making her chuckle.  
    I took a slug of my drink, and was about to take another when my eyes caught on something shiny and pretty. When I had been a teenager, the few times I had been able to jack off without breaking down into a sniveling pile, I had fantasized about a comic book superhero. And here he was, in all his golden glory, better than my fourteen year old disturbed brain had ever been able to muster him.  
    “God, it’s a God,” I muttered to myself, biting down on the rim of my glass over the chiseled long-haired blond milling through the crowd. Molly followed my eye line then coughed.  
    “You okay?” I asked keeping an eye on Thor as he stalked down the stairs. Then I had an Oh my... moment when I realized I still wanted to fuck the sexual daemon from my childhood.
    She nodded, glancing sternly at me. “I thought you were straight,” she said in all seriousness.
    “Really?” I said mockingly.   
    She flagged her hand between us. “No, but a girl can pretend, and you just shot that all too shit for me,” she said in a disappointed tone. “I suppose you’re too... everything, to be straight.” She sighed profoundly.
    “Molly, darling, I’m as straight as you want me to be,” I told her, running a sympathetic hand down her back while my eyes stayed glued to the God.
    “Ah shit, he’s coming over,” I hissed through my teeth. I never get nervous around anyone, but he had me wondering if I looked okay, if my clasp on my chain was in back, if my eyeliner was smudged. Damn it . He was just a pretty thing to play with.
    “We are talking about the scruffy blond right?”   Molly asked pointing her finger right at him, he didn’t miss it and crooked his lips. 
    “Shit, Molly. Put your fucking finger down,” I said between my teeth.
    She laughed at me, a big open-mouthed guffaw if there ever was one.
    “That’s my baby brother,” she blurted, still laughing.
    My head snapped towards her.
    “No shit?”  
    She nodded, straightening with some effort. I didn’t have time to think about the irony, or time to find it amusing, as he had arrived. All six luscious feet of him.
    “Matilda.” He bent down and kissed her cheek then inspected me with a frown. “A little young for you, don’t you think?” he asked, unkindly.
    I guess good manners didn’t necessarily go with God like looks. I was opening my mouth to retort when Molly kicked my boot.
    “Fredric, you are being rude.” She glared petulantly at him.
    “She was having trouble catching the attention of a bartender. I helped her out, and now we’re chatting,” I told him, noticing his long hair must be forty shades of gold, at least. I could imagine wrapping that ponytail around my hand as I rode... Okay, enough of that.  
    He stabbed me with disapproving hazel eyes. “You realize she’s probably twenty years your senior and married,” he accused, but his rancor was waning. Even so, he had enough steam to shoot at his sister; “Poor Andrew. I don’t know why he puts up with you.”  
    Molly withered under her brother’s words, and sagged back against the bar as she folded her arms protectively around herself. Even though he was quite a bit younger, it was obvious he could demean her with little effort. And he appeared to know just the weapons to do so.
    “I said we were chatting, not fucking,” I defended, then took a large gulp of alcohol wondering if I was about to get punched, and if I was, figuring I would need it to dull the pain later.
    However, in a surprising show, Fredric’s lips quirked up and Molly stifled a laugh under