Free Badd Motherf*cker: Badd Brothers by Jasinda Wilder

by maybe three or four inches, making him about six feet to Sebastian’s six-four, but Jeeeeesus and holy hell, the man was built. I mean Sebastian was ripped, but this man…god, he was on a whole other level of massive. He had the same essential build—broad shoulders, a wide chest, tapered waist—but this other man took the image and ran wild with it. Arms thicker even than Sebastian’s, nearly as thick as my thighs, a chest you could use as an anvil, the man was just… insanely muscled. Yet it still wasn’t bodybuilder bulk…he was lean, hard. Everything about him just screamed DANGER. His head was shaved to the scalp on the sides and had only a thin scruff of brown fuzz on top. He had only one tattoo that I could see, a screaming eagle on his left biceps, the eagle clutching a trident in one talon and a flintlock pistol in the other, with an anchor superimposed in front of it. I recognized the logo, but it took me a minute to put it together; Sebastian’s note had said his brother Zane had spent the last few years “pretending to be a badass.” The logo was that of the US Navy SEALs.  
    Damn. Probably not “pretending” to be a badass then, I’d guess.
    Sebastian had also said Zane would be the “ugliest motherfucker” I’d ever seen, yet, powerhouse warrior’s physique aside, Zane was every bit as sexy as Sebastian. Craggy cliff-side jawline, deep-set dark eyes, high cheekbones, a wide expressive mouth… Yeah, Zane Badd was fucking hot as hell. But where Sebastian was hard, gruff, and rough looking yet with an intoxicating patina of warmth and charisma, Zane just looked…scary. His eyes were cold, dark, wild. Sebastian had that same wildness in his gaze, but Zane’s eyes were just flat out icy. The man had seen and done some truly hellish things in his life, and it bled into his overall aura.  
    Neither man had seen me yet. They were standing face to face in the middle of the bar, a few scant inches between their massive chests, eyes blazing, fists clenched; they were both pissed . Close to blows, it looked like, to me.  
    “I had no fuckin’ clue Dad was gonna put any of that shit in his will, Zane! How the fuck could I? I didn’t even know he had a goddamn will, much less that he’d been having heart trouble. He just up and died, in the middle of a shift. He was dead before he hit the fuckin’ floor, and I didn’t hear shit about the will until yesterday. So don’t come barging in here acting like I knew something you didn’t.”  
    “That rat of a lawyer faxed me a copy of the will, Bast. You got ten grand none of us got. Explain that shit, then.”  
    Sebastian seemed to be seconds from blowing his top and attacking his brother. Who, from the looks of it, was every bit as close to going in after Sebastian in turn. And given the absurd size and power of both men, I wasn’t sure this bar would survive if they started fighting.  
    But what was I going to do? I was half their size, didn’t know either of them, and was intruding on a clearly personal argument.
    “If you saw the will, and if you saw I got that ten grand—which I haven’t seen a fuckin’ dime of, by the way—then you saw what Dad said in his will. Because I was always the one to step in around here. I took over the kitchen when Mom died. I took over the paperwork so Dad could semi-retire. I ran this place, Zane. Me. All of you guys ran off to chase your dreams and I stayed here to run the bar with Dad. Nobody even asked if that’s what I wanted. So then Dad gave me a few extra bucks as a minor reward or some shit, and you’ve got the balls to act jealous? Fuck …you .”  
    Sebastian punctuated the last word with a hard shove, sending his brother stepping backward a couple steps.  
    And Zane? Well…he didn’t take it well. Obviously. His fist flew, cracked against Sebastian’s jaw and twisted him sideways.  
    And then it was on, both men rushing at each other, spitting curses and swinging fists.
    I had to