Kind of made him proud of the bastard.
Thank you, he signed, slipping the robe onto his shoulders. With some straining, he managed to get it to fold over his chest and cover up his southern exposure. Barely.
Doc Jane leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. "Isn't there any way I can get you to stay longer? Or go back with crutches? Or. . . get you to stay longer?"
I'm good--thanks, though.
Doc Jane shook her head. "You Brothers are all a pain in the ass. "
Abruptly, a stinging shaft went through him that had nothing to do with his leg. I'm not a Brother. But I don't think I'm going to argue the second part with you.
"Wise male. And you should be. A Brother, that is. "
John hitched up his ass and gently lowered his weight off the table, all the while keeping an eye on the front of his Miss Priss of the Year robe. Fortunately, everything stayed suitable for mixed company and remained that way as Xhex ducked under his arm.
Man. . . she was the best crutch he could ask for, taking a hell of a lot of the load as they walked to the door. Together, they went down to the office, ducked through the closet, and emerged into the tunnel.
He made it about, oh, ten yards before he stopped, moved her around so she was standing before him, and then. . .
Killed the lights. All of them.
On his mental command, the fluorescents on the ceiling went dark one by one, starting with the pair directly above their heads and then stretching out in both directions. As everything went pitch- black, he worked fast and so did she. They knew damn well that Doc Jane and Ehlena were going to be busy cleaning up in the OR for at least another half hour. And it was Last Meal up at the mansion, so no one was working out, about to work out, or taking a shower in the locker room from working out.
Limited window.
Darkness was key.
Despite the difference in their heights, which even with her being near six feet was still more than half a dozen inches, he found her mouth sure as if her lips were spotlit. As he kissed her deep and slipped her his tongue, she moaned low in her throat and held on to his shoulders.
In this glorious stretch of neither here nor there, in this one step off the path they had agreed on, he let his bonded male out, unleashing himself to ride the wave of that moment that had happened back at the farmhouse. . . .
That moment when her dagger had left her hand and flown through the air. . . and given him nights still to be lived.
His palm slipped around to her breast, finding the tight nipple, rubbing it with his thumb while he ached to put his mouth where his fingers were. Good thing she'd left her jacket and her weapons back at the house in the foyer, so all there was between him and her skin was the muscle shirt she had on.
He wanted to rip another one down the front, but this was a quick quencher until they could make it up to the privacy of his bedroom: Instead of the grab and split, he slid both of his palms down and under, then shoved the shirt up until her breasts popped out. Shiiiiit. . . she didn't wear a bra even to fight, and for some reason that was a gigantic turn-on.
Not that he needed the help when it came to her.
As the sounds of their kissing echoed, he tweaked the tips that were ready for his lips and ground his arousal against her. And what do you know. . . she took the hint he wasn't even aware of making and dragged her hand down his stomach right to--
John jacked his head back, the slam of electricity bolting up his spine so great he couldn't hold the kiss together.
Faster than he could say, Fuck me hard, Xhex pushed him back against the tunnel wall and then he felt cool air as she parted the robe. Her lips moved across his chest, her fangs making a twin trail that tingled though every single nerve in his body--especially the ones at the top of his cock.
John let out a silent shout as her warm, wet mouth found that hot, hard place, sliding down over him, taking him fully, encompassing him in heat and suction. On the withdraw, she was slow and steady, until his head popped out of her lips with a soft smack--and then her tongue lapped around. As she worked him, his eyes were open, but the darkness surrounding them made it seem as if he'd squeezed his lids shut--and oh, man, blindness was just fine in this sitch: He had a clear image of what she had to look like on her knees before his spread legs, her muscle shirt up over her breasts, her nipples still peaked, her head going forward and back, forward and back.
Her breasts would sway with every move she made.
As his breath dragged into and out of his mouth, he had a feeling his weight was equally distributed between his injured and uninjured leg, but damned if he felt anything other than what she was doing to him. Hell, he could have been on fire, for all he knew or cared.
He was on fire, as a matter of fact--and the flames got hotter as Xhex folded his erection up against his lower belly and ran the flat of her tongue down him until she got to the heavy weights below his cock. One by one they were pulled into her mouth and then she went back to lollipopping his arousal.
She found a rhythm and he didn't last long. Stroke and suck, stroke and suck, stroke--
John's body arched and his palms smacked against the wall as he came. After it was done, he dragged her to her feet and kissed her long and hard. . . with an inkling of returning the favor on her--
Xhex nicked his lower lip on purpose and lapped at the tiny slice she'd made. "Bed. Now. "