As she leaned over the side, the robe she was wearing fell open and his eyes latched onto the breast that was exposed. She was just as perfect as she'd been in the tub, her pale skin so smooth and her little nipple so pink...
God, he knew the other one was just the same, but for some reason he needed to see it anyway.
"Zsadist?" She stretched down farther, her hair slipping off her shoulder and pouring over the edge of the bed, a gorgeous fall of deep mahogany.
The it between his thighs strained. Pulsed with the beat of his heart.
He jacked his knees up and clamped his thighs together, not wanting her to see.
"Your robe," he said roughly. "Close it. Please."
She glanced down and then dragged the lapels together, blushing. Oh, hell... Now her cheeks were as pink as her nipple, he thought.
"Will you come back to bed?" she asked.
The very well buried, decent part of him pointed out that wasn't a good idea.
"Please?" she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He measured the arch of her body and the black satin that barred her skin from his stare and her wide, sapphire blue eyes and the slender column of her throat.
No... it really was not a good idea to get near her right now. .
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"Move over," he said.
As she shuffled back, he glanced down at the tent between his legs. Christ, that goddamn thing in there was huge; he looked like he had another arm in his pants. And hiding a log like that would require scaffolding.
He eyed the bed. In a smooth movement he hopped between the sheets.
Which was an achingly bad idea. The moment he was underneath, she molded herself to his hard edges until she was another blanket. A soft, warm, breathing...
Z panicked. There was so much of her against him that he didn't know what to do. He wanted to shove her away. He wanted her even closer. He wanted... Oh, man. He wanted to mount her. He wanted to take her. He wanted to fuck her.
The instinct was so strong he saw himself doing the deed: rolling her onto her stomach, pulling her hips off the bed, rearing up behind her. He imagined pushing the it inside of her and pumping with his hips-God, he was loathsome. To want to take that dirty thing and force it into her? He might as well shove a toilet brush in her mouth.
"You tremble..." she said. "Are you cold?"
She shifted even closer to him, and he felt her breast, soft and warm, on the back of his forearm. The it twitched wildly, popping against his pants.
Shit. He had a feeling that punch action meant he was dangerously aroused.
Yeah, ya think? Hell, the bastard was throbbing, and the balls under the thing ached, and he was having visions of rutting on her like a bull. Except a female's fear was the only thing that got it hard, and she wasn't scared. So what was he responding to?
"Zsadist?" she said softly.
"What?"
The four words she spoke next turned his chest into a cinder block and made his blood freeze up solid. But at least all that other crap went away.
When Phury's door opened without any warning, his hands froze on the T-shirt he was pulling over his head.
Zsadist stood between the jambs, naked to the waist, black eyes burning.
Phury cursed softly. "I'm glad you came. About last night... I owe you an apology."
"I don't want to hear it. Come with me."
"Z, I was wrong to-"
"Come. With. Me."
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Phury yanked the shirt hem down and checked his watch. "I have to teach class in a half hour."
"This won't take long."
"Ah... well, okay."
As he followed Z down the hall, he figured they could get through the apology on the road.
"Look, Zsadist, I'm really sorry about last night." His twin's silence was not a surprise. "I jumped to the wrong conclusion. About you and Bella." Z walked even faster. "I should have known you wouldn't hurt her. I would offer you a rythe."
Zsadist stopped and glared over his shoulder. "What the hell for?"
"I offended you. Last night."
"No, you didn't."
Phury could only shake his head. "Zsadist-"
"I am sick. I am disgusting. I can't be trusted. Just because you've got half a brain and have figured that out doesn't mean you need to stroke my ass with