I want what you have,” he murmured to her, answering the question she hadn’t voiced.
“It’s yours, whatever you want,” she whispered immediately, flowing into his arms.
She felt good, if a little slim for his taste. And if she looked innocent it was only happenstance. Her hands were already sliding down to his belt buckle.
He spun her against a wall and pinned those sneaky hands up, caging her head between his arms so he could look into her eyes again.
She gazed up at him, it was meant to be a sexy look but he found it adorable.
Instead of releasing her hands and letting her go back to the pursuit of his ever ready cock, he leaned down to nuzzle at her breasts.
She froze under the unexpected attention.
God, he could smell that hot female scent on her through the perfume.
Suddenly his hands were on her hips.
And instead of her at his knees, he was at hers.
She trembled in his hold.
They were off-script and she knew it.
Suddenly she was there, really present, waiting to see what he would do next.
The authenticity excited him and he had to remind himself to be gentle as he worked her jeans down to reveal the tiny silken scrap of her underwear.
Her scent was thick in the air now.
He lowered his nose to her and inhaled.
Her intake of breath echoed in his ears.
The sound unhinged him and he wrenched her jeans down to her ankles, his desire too similar to rage.
He pressed his tongue against her, lapping at her sex through the triangle of satin.
She cried out and her hands were in his hair.
Something awoke inside him.
Suddenly, he was lifting her up, carrying her to the bed.
She kicked off her jeans and lay before him, her legs spread slightly. Enough for him to see she wanted to spread them wide for him. Her hair was tousled, her eyes wide.
She reached her arms out to him.
The room clicked into focus for him.
She was beautiful, not just pretty. How had he not noticed this before?
The softness of her hair echoed through the perfect roundness of her breasts, and he forgave her the concave belly because soon he would swell it with his child.
He saw her pregnant, nursing a dark haired baby, her face softened by the candlelight of anniversary dinners, wrinkled by happy years.
He had only to claim her.
Scales slid sinuously in his head, drawn to her heat.
No.
Fuck, no, no, no.
But the instant he fought it, his arm started burning again.
The angel in his bed asked what was the matter and he heard every hidden harmonic in her voice as if the sound were a rainbow.
“ Get out! ” he bellowed, his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she whispered, approaching him timidly.
“Get. Out.”
He held his breath and averted his eyes until he heard the door click shut behind her.
He opened his eyes.
The room was the same.
He glanced in the mirror.
He was still Johnny Lazarus.
But just below the surface, something that wasn’t Johnny seethed and coiled.
4
N eve was back at work . It felt like she had never left.
In truth, she’d only been gone a few hours. Between coming back for the store room key dilemma and the early morning shift, she’d barely been left with any time to fret and feel sorry for herself about the break-up with Michael.
Neve was an only child, and she hadn’t spoken to her dad since her mom died - the year she’d really gone all in with her work. She’d burned through the friends she had, and didn’t have time to make new ones. So it wasn’t like she had any shoulders to cry on.
Which was probably for the best. She was going to need all her compassion for other people today.
“God bless her heart, but that little girl will be the death of me. If I said it once, I said it a thousand times…” Jeannie muttered to herself as she exited the suite of rooms reserved for Jocelyn Wylde. Jeannie was one of the older nurses on duty. She had been with the place since before the renovations turned a straightforward drug and alcohol rehab
Carey Corp, Lorie Langdon