Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4) - J.R. Ward Page 0,100

do this to be nice, I do it to get under your skin. I do it because I hope I can someday, somehow get you where I want you to be."

As her eyes peeled wide, he kept the rest to himself. No reason to air the fact that the symphath in him wanted to crawl around in her head and own every emotion she ever felt. Or share the reality that sex with him would be... complicated.

Ah, the joys of his nature. And his anomaly.

"But I want you to trust in something, Marissa. I won't ever cross the line if you don't want me to."

Besides, Xhex was probably right. Half-breeds like him did better going solo. Even if symphaths weren't discriminated against and could mate and live like Normals, they should never be with someone who was defenseless against their dark side.

He pulled on his floor-length sable coat. "This male of yours... he better get with the program. Damn fucking waste of a female of worth like you." Rehv grabbed his cane and headed for the door. "If you need me, call me."

Butch walked into ZeroSum, went back to the Brotherhood's table, and took off his Aquascutum raincoat. He was going to be here for a while. Which wasn't a news flash, was it? Hell, he should just pitch a damn pup tent and move in.

As the waitress came up with a Scotch, he said, "Any chance you can just bring me a bottle?"

"Sorry, I can't."

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J R Ward: Lover Revealed

"Okay, come here." He crooked his finger at her. When she leaned down, he put a hundred-dollar bill on her tray. "This is just for you. I want you to keep me nice and poured."

"Absolutely."

Alone at the table, Butch reached up to his neck, his fingertips running over the puncture wounds. As he felt where he'd been bitten, he tried not to imagine what Marissa was doing right now to someone else. To an aristocrat. To a well-bred bastard who was better than him, platinum to his nickel. Oh, God.

Like a mantra, he repeated what V had said. That it didn't have to be sexual. That it was a biological imperative. That there was no choice. That it... didn't have to be sexual. He was hoping if he heard the litany often enough in his head, his emotions would calm the hell down so he could accept the necessity of what she had to do. After all, Marissa wasn't being cruel. She'd been as distraught as he was-In a vivid flash, he saw her naked body and couldn't help but picture another man's hands smoothing over her breasts. Another man's lips traveling across her skin. Another man taking her virginity as he nourished her, his hard body moving on top of her, inside of her.

And all the while she was drinking... drinking until she had her fill, until she was satiated, replete.

Taken care of. By someone else.

Butch hammered his double Lag.

Holy fuck. He was going to crack in half. He was going to fall apart, right here, right now, his raw insides spilling onto the floor, his vitals getting ground down under the feet of strangers along with fallen cocktail napkins and credit card receipts.

The waitress, bless her heart, came over with more Scotch.

As he picked up the second glass, he lectured himself:

O'Neal, get your sack together and grow some pride. Have some faith in her, too. She would never sleep with another man. She just wouldn't.

But the sex was just part of it.

As he downed the Scotch, he realized there was another dimension to the nightmare. She was going to have to feed regularly, wasn't she. They were going to have to do this over and over again.

Fuck. He'd like to think he was a big enough man, a confident enough man, to handle all this, but he was possessive and selfish. And the next time she fed, they would be back where they were now, her in another man's arms, him drinking in a club alone on the verge of hanging himself. Only it would be worse. And the time after that, even more so. He loved her so much, so deeply, that he would destroy them both and it wouldn't take long.

Besides, what kind of future could they have? With the way he'd been pounding the Scotch lately, he probably only had another ten years left in his liver and her kind lived for centuries. He'd just be a footnote in her long life, a pothole on