been sickened at what his twin had
needed, but he'd nonetheless gone with Z to the gym and hit the male over and over and over
again.
That hadn't been the first time Zsadist had needed that kind of release.
Phury had always hated giving his twin the beatings he'd demanded, had never understood the
why of the masochistic drive, but he got it now. This was fantastic. Nothing mattered. It was as if
real life were a distant thunderstorm that would never reach him because he'd gotten out of its
path.
Rhage's deep voice came from a distance as well. «Phury? I've called for pickup. You need to go
to Havers's.»
When Phury tried to talk, his jaw refused to do its job, sure as someone had glued it in place.
Clearly, the swelling was setting in already, and he settled for shaking his head.
Rhage's face came into his lopsided vision. «Havers will-«
Phury shook his head again. Bella would be at the clinic tonight dealing with the baby issue. If
she was on the verge of miscarrying, he didn't want to tip her over the edge by showing up as an
emergency case.
«No… Havers…"he said hoarsely.
«My brother, what you've got going on is more than first aid can handle.» Rhage's model-perfect
face was a mask of deliberate calm. Which meant the guy was really worried.
«Home.»
Rhage cursed, but before he could push for the Havers trip again, a car turned into the alley, its
headlights flashing.
«Shit.» Rhage flipped into action, hefting Phury up off the pavement and hustling behind the
Dumpster.
Which brought them right next to the desecrated lesser.
«What the fuck?» Rhage breathed while a Lexus with chromed-out twenty-fours eased by them,
rap thumping.
When it had passed, Rhage's brilliant teal eyes narrowed. «Did you do that?»
«Bad… fight…'s'all,» Phury whispered. «Get me home.»
As he closed his eye, he realized he'd learned something tonight. Pain was good, and if garnered
under the right circumstances, it was less shameful than heroin. Easier to get, too, as it could be a
legitimate by-product of his job.
How perfect.
As Jane sat in the chair across from her patient's bed, her head was down and her eyes were
closed. She couldn't stop thinking about what she had done to him… and what he had done as a
result. She saw him just as he climaxed, his head kicked back, his fangs gleaming, his erection
jerking in her grip, while his breath went in on a gasp and came out on a groan.
She shifted around, feeling hot. And not because the radiator had kicked on.
God, she couldn't stop herself from replaying the scene over and over again, and it got so bad,
she had to part her mouth for breath. At one point during the continuous loop she felt a brief
sting in her head, like her neck had settled into a bad position, but then she dozed off.
Naturally, her subconscious took over where memory left off.
The dream started when something touched her shoulder, something warm and heavy. She was
eased by the feel of it, by the way it slowly went down her arm and over her wrist and to her
hand. Her fingers were gathered in a grip and squeezed, then splayed out for a kiss placed on the
center of her palm. She felt the soft lips, warm breath, and the velvet brush of… a goatee.
There was a pause, as if permission had been asked.
She knew exactly who she was dreaming about. And she knew exactly what was going to happen
in the fantasy if she allowed things to continue.
«Yes,» she whispered in her sleep.
Her patient's hands went to her calves and eased her legs off the chair, then something broad and
warm moved in, going between her thighs, splaying them wide. His hips and… oh, God, she felt
his erection at her core, the rigid length pressing in through the soft pants she had on. The collar
of her shirt was dragged aside and his mouth found her neck, his lips latching onto her skin and
sucking while his arousal started on a rhythmic push and retreat. A hand found her breast then
skirted down to her stomach. Down to her hip. Down farther, replacing the erection.
As Jane cried out and arched, two sharp points ran up the column of her neck to the base of her
jaw. Fangs.
Fear flooded her veins. And so did a blast of high-octane sex.
Before she could sort out the two extremes, his mouth left her neck and found her breast through
the shirt. As he sucked at her he went after her core, rubbing what was ready for him, hungry for
him. She opened her mouth to pant, and something was pushed into it…
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