Lover Revealed (19 page)

"I was shocked when your hand was between my legs. Is it shocking like that? In that good kind of way?"

"Yeah." His hips shifted, as if they'd rotated on the base of his spine. "Jesus… Marissa."

"I want you naked." She sat up on her knees and reached for his johnny. "And I want to strip you."

He took her hands in a hard grip. "I, ah… Marissa, do you have any idea what happens when a man comes? Because sure as shit, that's going to happen if you start handling me. And it's not going to take long."

"I want to find out. With you."

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. "Dear Lord in heaven."

Lifting his upper body off the bed, he leaned forward so she could slip the two halves of the gown down his arms. Then he let himself fall back on the mattress and his body was revealed: the thick neck plugged into those broad shoulders… the heavy pads of his pectorals that were dusted with hair… the ribbed expanse of his belly… and…

She pulled back the sheet. Good God, his sex was… "It's gotten so… huge."

Butch barked out a laugh. "You say the nicest things."

"I saw it when it was… I didn't know it got…"

She just couldn't take her eyes off his erection as it lay against his belly. His hard sex was the color of his lips and shockingly beautiful, the head blunt with a graceful ridge, the shaft perfectly round and very thick at the base. And the twin weights below were heavy, shameless, virile.

Maybe humans were larger than her kind?

"How do you like to be touched?"

"If it's you, any way."

"No, show me."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and his chest expanded. When he lifted his lids, his mouth parted and he slowly eased his hand down his pecs and his belly. Moving one of his legs out to the side, he captured himself in his palm, fisting that dark pink flesh of his, his man hand broad enough to hold the thing. With a slow, smooth movement, he stroked his arousal, base to tip, riding the shaft.

"Or something like this," he said hoarsely, keeping it up. "Good God, look at you… I could come right now."

"No." She pushed his arm out of the way and the erection bounced stiffly on his stomach. "I want to make you do that."

As she took hold of him, he groaned, his whole body undulating.

He was hot. He was hard. He was soft. He was so thick she couldn't close her palm all the way around him.

Hesitant at first, she followed his example, running her grip up and down, marveling at how his satin skin slid over the stone core of him.

When he gritted his teeth, she stopped. "Is this all right?"

"Yeah… damn…" His chin tilted back, the veins in his neck popping. "More."

She put her other hand on him, stacking her palms, moving them together. His mouth fell wide open, his eyes rolling back in his head, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his body.

"How does this feel, Butch?"

"I'm so close already." He clamped his jaws together and breathed through teeth that were locked light. But then he grabbed her hands, stilling them. "Wait! Not yet…"

His erection pulsed, kicking in their grips. A crystal drop appeared at the tip.

He took in a ragged breath. "Hold me out. Make me work for it, Marissa. The longer you burn me, the better the end will be."

Using his gasps and the spasms of his muscles as a guide, she learned the peaks and valleys of his erotic response, figured out when he was getting close and just how to suspend him at the tip of the sexual blade.

God, there was power in sex, and right now she had it all. He was defenseless, exposed… just as she'd been the night before.
She loved this
.

"Please… baby…" She loved that hoarse breathlessness. Loved the straining cords in his neck. Loved the command she had as she held him in her hand.

Which made her think. She let go and attended to his sack, sliding her hand under the weight of it, cupping him. With a curse, he knotted the sheets up in fists until his knuckles went white.

She kept going at him until he was twitchy and covered with sweat and shaking. Then she bent down and pressed her mouth to his. He gobbled her up, grabbing her neck and holding her against his lips, mumbling, kissing, thrusting with his tongue.

"Now?" she said in the midst of the kiss. "
Now
."

Taking him in hand, she moved her palm faster and faster, until his face contorted into a beautiful mask of agony and his body grew tight as a cable.

"
Marissa
…" With no coordination, he grabbed the hospital gown and pulled it over his hips, shielding him from her eyes. Then she felt him jerk and shudder and something warm and thick came out of him in pulses, covering her hand. She knew instinctively not to lose her rhythm until it was over.

When his eyes finally opened, they were fuzzy. Satiated. Full of a worshiping warmth.

"I don't want to let go of you," she said.

"Then don't. Ever."

He was softening in her palm, a retreat from the hard staff he'd been. Kissing him, she took her hand out from under the hospital johnny and looked down, curious as to what had come out of him.

"I didn't know it would be black," she murmured with a little smile.

Horror flooded his face. "
Oh, Christ
!"

Havers walked down the hallway to the quarantine room. On the way, he checked on the little female he'd operated on days before. She was healing well, but he worried about sending her and her mother back out into the world. That
hellren
was violent and there was a good chance they would be back in the clinic again. But what could he do? He couldn't let them stay here indefinitely. He needed the bed.

He kept going, passing his laboratory, waving at a nurse who was processing various samples. When he got to the housekeeping door, he hesitated.

He hated that Marissa was locked up with that human.

But the important thing was she hadn't been contaminated. According to the physical they'd done on her early yesterday, she was just fine, so her lapse in judgment evidently wasn't going to cost her her life.

And as for the human, he was going home. His last blood sample had been very close to normal and he was getting stronger at an astonishing rate, so it was time to get him the hell away from Marissa. Havers had already called the Brotherhood and told them to come get the man.

Butch O'Neal was dangerous, and not just because of the contamination issue. That human wanted Marissa—it was in his eyes. And that was unacceptable.

Havers shook his head, thinking that he'd tried to keep them apart back in the fall. At first, he'd assumed Marissa was going to drain the human and that would have been fine. But when it became obvious that she was pining for him in her illness, Havers had had to step in.

God, he'd hoped she'd find a true mate at some point, but certainly not an inferior, roughneck human. She needed someone worthy, though it was unlikely that would happen anytime soon, given the
glymera's
opinion of her.

But maybe… well, he was aware of how Rehvenge watched her. Maybe that would work. Rehv was from very good bloodlines on both sides. He was a little… hard, perhaps, but he was appropriate in the eyes of society.

Perhaps that pairing should be encouraged? After all, she was untouched, as clean as the day she was birthed. And Rehvenge had money, lots of it, though no one knew how or why. Even more important, he was unswayed by the
glymera's
opinions.

Yes, Havers thought. That would be a good pairing. The best she could hope for.

He pushed open the closet door, feeling a little better. That human was on the way out of the clinic, and no one had to know the two of them had been locked in together for days. His staff was blessedly discreet.

God, he could only imagine what the
glymera
would do to her if they knew she'd been in close contact with a human male. Marissa's tattered reputation just couldn't withstand any more controversy, and frankly, Havers couldn't take it either. He was utterly exhausted by her social failures.

He loved her, but he was at the end of his rope.

Marissa had no idea why Butch was dragging her into the bathroom at a dead run.

"Butch! What are you doing?"

He cranked on the sink, forced her hands under the water, and grabbed for a bar of soap. As he washed her off, the panic in his face stretched his eyes and flattened his mouth.

"What the hell is going on here!"

Marissa and Butch both wheeled around to the doorway. Havers was standing in it without benefit of a hazmat suit—more furious than she'd ever seen him.

"Havers—"

Her brother cut her off by lunging forward and yanking her out of the bathroom.

"Stop it—ouch! Havers, that hurts!"

What happened next was too fast for her to track.

Havers was suddenly just… gone. One minute he was pulling at her and she was fighting against him, and the next Butch had him flattened facefirst against the wall.

Butch's voice was a nasty drawl. "I don't care if you're her brother. You don't handle her like that.
Ever
." He pushed his forearm into the back of Havers's neck to emphasize the point.

"Butch, let him—"

"We clear?" Butch growled over her words. When her brother gasped and nodded, Butch released him, walked over to the bed, and calmly wrapped a sheet around his hips. As if he hadn't just manhandled a vampire.

Meanwhile, Havers stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes crazed as he rearranged his glasses and glared at her. "I want you to leave this room.
Now
."

"No."

Havers's jaw went slack. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm staying with Butch."

"You most certainly are not!"

In the Old Language, she said, "
If he would have me, I would stand at his side as his
shellan."

Havers looked as if she'd slapped him: shocked and disgusted. "
And I would forbid you. Have you no nobility
?"

Butch cut off her reply. "You really should go, Marissa."

She and Havers looked over at him. "Butch?" she said.

That harsh face she adored softened for a moment, but then grew grim. "If he'll let you out, you should go."

And not come back
, his expression said.

She glanced at her brother, heart starting to pound. "Leave us." When Havers shook his head, she shouted, "
Get out of here
!"

There were times when female hysteria got everyone's attention, and this was one of them. Butch went quiet and Havers seemed nonplussed.

Then her brother's eyes shifted to Butch and narrowed into slits. "The Brotherhood are coming to pick you up, human. I called them and told them you are free to go." Havers tossed Butch's medical chart on the bed as if he were giving up on the whole situation. "Don't come back here again. Ever."

As her brother left, Marissa stared at Butch, but before she could get any words past her tight throat, he spoke.

"Baby, please understand. I'm not well. There's something still in me."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"I am."

She linked her arms around her stomach. "What's going to happen if I leave here now? Between you and me?"

Bad question to ask
, she thought in the silence between them.

"Butch—"

"I need to find out what was done to me." He looked down and fingered the puckered black wound next to his belly button. "I need to know what's inside me. I want to be with you, but not like this. Not the way I am now."

"I've been with you for four days and I'm fine. Why stop—"

"Go, Marissa." His voice was haunted and grim. So were his eyes. "As soon as I can, I'll come find you."

The hell you will
, she thought.

Dear Virgin in the Fade, this was Wrath all over again, wasn't it. Her waiting, always waiting, while some male with better things to do was out into the world.

She'd already put in four hundred years of baseless anticipation.

"I'm not going to do that," she murmured. With more force, she said, "I'm not waiting anymore. Not even for you. Almost half my life is over now and I've wasted it sitting at home hoping that a male would come for me. I can't do that anymore… no matter how much I… care about you."

"I care about you, too. That's why I'm telling you to leave. I'm protecting you."

"You're… 'protecting' me." She eyed him up and down, knowing damn well he'd been able to peel Havers off her only because Butch had had the element of surprise working for him and the male in question had been a civilian. If her brother were a fighter, Butch would have been leveled. "You're
protecting
me? Christ, I could lift you over my head with one arm, Butch. There's nothing you can do physically that I can't do better. So don't do me any favors."

It was, of course, the perfectly wrong thing to say.

Butch's eyes shifted away and he crossed his arms over his chest, his lips narrowing flat.

Oh, God. "Butch, I don't mean that you're weak—"

"I'm very glad you reminded me of something."

Oh, God
. "Of what."

His tight smile was ghastly. "I'm on the lower end of things on two counts. Socially and evolutionarily." He nodded to the door. "So… yeah, you go on, now. And you're absolutely right. Don't wait for me."

She started to reach out to him, but his cold, empty eyes held her back. Damn it, she'd blown it.

No, she told herself. There hadn't been anything to blow. Not if he was going to shut her out of the ugly parts of his life. Not if he was going to take off and leave her and maybe come back at some indefinable, probably-never point in time.

Marissa went to the door and had to look back at him once more. The image of him with that sheet wrapped around his hips, his chest bare, bruises still healing all over him… was one she was going to wish she could forget.

She walked out, the air lock sealing him in with a hiss.

** *