her work for four hours, six hours, before she got off, that would be enough.
He was untethered. She was his harbor. So the math was obvious—
“No,” his roommate said. “Not when you’re this drunk.”
“Will you drive me then?”
“You need to stay home. That was way too close with the evil, Butch. I need you to stay in the mhis for right now.”
“What are you talking about?” Butch snatched the tumbler back and took a gulp. And the fact that he felt absolutely no burn in his throat at all should have been a red flag concerning his current level of intoxication. But fuck it. “I’m not a prisoner here.”
“Just until we can get a team around you.”
“A team? Fuck that. I’m—”
“The Omega came out to find you tonight, Butch. Unless you forgot what magically appeared in front of you in that alley?”
“It didn’t come for me.” As V shot him a yeah-right, Butch shook his head. “The Fore-lesser was standing right beside it. The evil came for its subordinate, not for me. It was just a coincidence I was there.”
Butch took another draw on the glass, and as he reflected on the way he’d corrected his roommate’s version of events, he congratulated himself on speaking so much better. Not that he had been bad at it before, no matter what V had said.
“It was after you, Butch.” V shook his head. “And if the Fore-lesser was there, it was because it was working to get to you, too. The pair are always aligned, that’s the way it works.”
“Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“I am perfectly fucking fine. Now get out of my way.”
Things got a little wonky at that point and Butch wasn’t exactly sure about the sequence of events. The outcome was clear. When he tried to force his way out of the vestibule so he could get behind the wheel, V ended up taking the glass away for a second time. And then he seemed to look apologetic.
“I’m sorry about this, cop.”
“Sorry about what—”
The right hook came sailing through the air with the greatest of ease. And as it hit Butch solidly in the jaw, kicking his head back like a baseball struck for the stands, he had a thought that he didn’t feel a thing.
In fact, he went on a nice little float, during which the entire mansion, in spite of its size, weight, and foundation, went on a tilt such that, as he stood on his feet, he managed to look straight ahead at the foyer’s dome ceiling three stories up.
Wow, those warriors on their steeds sure looked like they know what they’re doing, he thought.
And then, just as V promised, it was naptime.
zzzzZZZZZZZzzzzzzZZzz.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
You want to talk about some Jeopardy! theme playing? As Jo gathered two paper plates, a beer for her, and some napkins in her kitchen, she was counting down the seconds. And when she heard the bathroom door finally open, she had to force herself not to wheel around and check to see what had come out.
And not because she was worried about there being guns involved again.
No, it was because she was hoping there was just going to be a towel. Or maybe even less—
Oh. He was dressed.
To cover her internal conversation about naked things that were none of her business, Jo bustled over to the coffee table, all Suzy Homemaker without any dirty thoughts in her head at all.
Nope. Not a one.
“So how about we try this eating thing again.”
It was a good goal. An appropriate one, given that it did not involve body parts (his) or hot thoughts (hers.) Still, every time she blinked, she saw him scaring the crap out of the delivery boy, that body of Syn’s so spectacularly nude, that gun in his hand so steady… that dead stare in his eyes the kind of thing she wasn’t afraid of, but maybe should be.
So naked. So much smooth, hairless skin. So much muscle. So much…
Um. Length. And, um. Girth—
Okaaaaaaay, she really needed to stop this—
“Stop what?” he asked. When she looked at him in confusion, he sat down on her sofa. “What do you need to stop?”
Well, for starters, it would be great to quit thinking of you lying faceup on that rug right there and me riding you like Annie-frickin’-Oakley until your six-gun goes off in my—
“Oh, God.” She went to cover the flush on her face with her hands—and ended up smacking herself