John went to sit up on the gurney, Xhex helped him and he was amazed at how strong she was: The instant her hand went to the middle of his back, he felt as though his entire upper weight was totally supported. Then again, as she'd often said, she wasn't just your normal female. Doc Jane came over and started talking to him about what was doing under his bandage and what he needed to do to care for the incision . . . but he wasn't tracking.
He wanted to have sex. With Xhex. Right now.
It was pretty much all he knew or cared about--and the carnal need went waaay deeper than just a hard-on looking for a garage to park in. A brush with death had a way of making you want to live out loud, and sex with the person you wanted to be with was the best way of expressing that noise.
Xhex's eyes flared as she caught the scent he clearly was putting off.
"You're going to stay put for another ten minutes," Doc Jane said as she started to put instruments in the autoclave. "And then you can crash down here in the clinic's bed."
Let's go, he signed to Xhex.
Swinging his legs off the table gave him a shot of whoa-nelly pain, but the owie shit didn't make him rethink his plan in the slightest. It did, however, get the attention of everyone else in the room. As Xhex steadied him with a curse, the good doctor started in with a whole lot of lie-downbig-guy--except John wasn't having any of that prone stuff. Would you have a robe I could wear out of here? he signed, well aware that he had a massive erection and not a lot over his hips. There was some arguing after that, but eventually, Doc Jane threw her hands up and allowed as how if he wanted to be an idiot, she couldn't stop him. When she gave the nod, Ehlena disappeared and returned with something that was fluffy and thick and big enough to cover him up . . . from collarbone to maybe midthigh. It was also pink. Clearly, this was the sleepwear version of a dunce cap, payback for his refusing to stay in the clinic. And you'd think all the Barbie would pull a 408
deflate on his arousal--but not a chance.
His cock was standing firm against the assault on his masculinity. 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