“Trust is not the issue, Angelus.” Lindsey’s voice was cold smoke. Perfectly calm, as if he was not sitting in a bar with a notorious vampire. His smirk was practiced and fake and Angelus could see right through him.
“You want Angel.” The name was said with a growl and a sneer.
“What? I don’t want either of you. In any incarnation. I don’t swing that way, Angelus.” A sip of vodka, snap of a zippo, smell of tobacco.
“I don’t …”
Strong fingers at Lindsey’s groin, outlining the hard length of his cock through his jeans.