Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(61)

Except . . . well, when it came down to it, he somehow couldn’t walk off to the parking garage where the Escalade had been getting its oil changed. He was literally incapable of leaving, his feet having glued themselves to the floor.

As he glanced down toward the office, he mourned the fact that just an hour ago it had looked like things were back on track. But no. It was almost as if the shit before had been nothing except a warm-up for where they were now.

“I got nothing to say to her, true.” As always.

“Maybe it’ll come to you.”

Doubt that, he thought.

Butch clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen to me. You have the fashion sense of a park bench and the interpersonal skills of a meat cleaver—”

“Is this supposed to be helping?”

“Let me finish—”

“What’s next? The size of my cock?”

“Hey, even pencils can get the job done—I’ve heard the moaning from your room to prove it.” Butch gave him a shake. “I’m just telling you—you need that female in your life. Don’t f*ck that shit up. Not now—not ever, feel me?”

“She was going to help Payne kill herself.” As the guy winced, V nodded. “Yeah. So this ain’t about some he-said, she-said argument about the cap on the f*cking toothpaste.”

After a moment, Butch murmured, “There must have been a pretty damn good reason.”

“There is no reason. Payne’s the only blood I’ve got and she was going to take that away from me.”

With the situation boiled down to its basics like that, the buzzing at the base of V’s brain got so much stronger and louder, he had to wonder if he was going to stroke out—and in that moment, for the first time in his life, he was scared of himself and what he was capable of. Not hurting Jane, of course—no matter how fried he was, he would never touch her in anger—

Butch took a step back and raised his palms. “Hey. Easy there, roomie.”

V looked down. In his hands were both of his daggers . . . and his fists were so tight he wondered whether the grips were going to have to be surgically removed from his palms.

“Take these,” he said numbly, “away from me.”

In a rush, he gave all of his weapons to his best friend, disarming himself completely. And Butch accepted the load with quick, grim efficiency.

“Yeah . . . maybe you’re right,” the guy muttered. “Talk to her later.”

“She’s not the one you need to worry about, cop.” ’Cuz apparently suicidal impulses ran the f*ck all over his family tonight.

Butch caught his arm as he went to turn away. “What can I do to help.”

V had a quick, shocking picture filter through his brain. “Nothing you could handle. Unfortunately.”

“Don’t do my thinking for me, motherf*cker.”

V stepped in close, bringing their faces to within an inch of each other. “You don’t have the stomach for it. Trust me.”

Those deep hazel eyes held his and didn’t blink. “You’d be amazed what I would do to keep you alive.”

Abruptly, V’s mouth opened, his breath growing tight. And as the two of them stood chest-to-chest, he knew every inch of his body, felt all of it at once.

“What are you saying, cop.”

“Do you honestly think lessers are a better option,” Butch muttered hoarsely. “At least I can make sure you aren’t dead at the end of it.”

Images flickered through his mind, graphically detailed and appallingly perverted. And all of them with him in a starring role.

After a moment of neither saying a word, Butch stepped off. “Go see your female. I’ll be waiting for you at the Escalade.”

“Butch. You don’t mean it. You can’t.”

His best friend regarded him coolly. “The f*ck I don’t.” Turning away, he strode down the corridor. “Come find me. When you’re ready.”

As V watched the guy go, he wondered whether that was about them going out to drink tonight . . . or the pair of them walking through the dangerous door the cop had just opened.

In his heart of hearts, he knew it was both.

Holy. Shit.




Back in the exam room, as Manny stared into Payne’s eyes, he was dimly aware that someone was smoking somewhere close by. Knowing his luck, it was her cocksucking brother, and the big bastard was getting nicotined up right before he came in here to mop the floor with Manny’s piehole.

Whatever, though. Payne’s mouth was mere inches from his own, and her body was warm against him, and his cock was bursting at the seams. He was a man of willpower and self-determination, but stopping what was about to happen was waaaaaaay beyond even his skill set.

Reaching up, he cupped the side of her face. As contact was made, her lips parted and he knew he should say something, but his voice had packed its bags and taken a bus out of town, evidently—along with his brain.

Closer. He drew her closer and met her halfway, their mouths fusing. And even though his body had all the patience of an unfed tiger, he was careful as the contact was made. God, she was soft . . . oh, so soft . . . in a way that made him want to spread her wide and penetrate her with everything he had, his fingers, his tongue, his sex.

But none of that was happening right now. Or tonight. Or even the day after. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with virgins, but he was pretty damn sure that even if she was having a sexual response, how it was taken care of could be overwhelming—