She laughed. “Poor baby. You’re just not a people person, are you?”
“Not by any stretch of the imagination.”
Tightening her hold on him, she rested her head on his chest. “That just makes me appreciate everything you’re doing for us, and for Seth, all the more.”
He grimaced.
“You’re going to have to stop doing that, you know,” she said.#p#分页标题#e#
“Doing what?”
“Grimacing every time I mention your helping Seth.”
“How did you know I grimaced? You weren’t even looking at me.”
“Because I know you.”
He smiled. She did. She knew him better than anyone else in the world. He supposed that should unnerve him, but it didn’t.
She leaned back. “For example, even if I couldn’t feel how tense and bunched up your muscles are, I would know you’re feeling stressed.”
Stressed didn’t quite cover it.
Peeking up at him between her lashes, she drew a circle on his chest with one finger. “Maybe I can do a little something to help you relax.”
Every muscle in Zach’s body tightened as she drew that finger down his abdomen and tucked it into the waistband of his pants.
“You know, I’m still not used to seeing you in so many clothes,” she purred, and flicked open the button.
Zach swallowed, already hard and aching for her. While performing Seth’s duties for the past two days, Zach had dressed as the Immortal Guardians did: black pants, black shirt, long black coat, wings tucked away.
“It’s almost like I have two different lovers,” she continued, taking his zipper in her hand and lowering it an inch, knuckles brushing the erection straining against the black material. “A mysterious Other who comes to me bare-chested and embraces me with wings as soft as silk.” She lowered the zipper another inch. “And a hunter, who comes to me dressed all in black and loaded down with weapons.”
Hell, he’d come to her dressed as a party clown, if she would just finish lowering the damned zipper.
She laughed. “I heard that.”
“You did?” He was slipping more and more around her, letting his guard down without even realizing it.
“Never let it be said that I won’t give you what you want.” She drew the zipper all the way down, freeing him at last, and took him in her hands.
Zach moaned as she tightened her hold and squeezed her way to the sensitive head of his cock.
She sank to her knees in front of him.
His pulse raced. His heart pounded erratically in his chest.
She touched her tongue to the sensitive crown, licked it, teased it, closed her lips around it, and sucked him deep.
Ssssshit!
Coherent thought fled as she used fingers, lips, and tongue . . . her warm, wet, talented mouth . . . to drive him to the brink. Zach had never experienced anything like it.
“You taste so good,” she murmured, then resumed her exquisite torment.
Her phone rang.
Zach groaned.
She ignored it.
“I love you so much,” he vowed.
Her eyes lit with amusement as she winked up at him.
“Down With The Sickness,” a song Zach had really come to hate, filled the air.
Damn it. Darnell only forwarded the emergency calls, so Zach couldn’t ignore it.
Fumbling in his pocket, he retrieved the phone. “What?” He bit back another moan of ecstasy.
“Why isn’t Lisette answering her phone?” Richart demanded.
Zach glanced down at her. She did something just then with her tongue that damned near made him come. “I don’t think you want to know the answer to that,” he gritted.
The call ended.
Zach stuffed the phone back in his pocket and buried his fingers in Lisette’s hair, unraveling her neat braid with a thought so he could bunch the thick waves up in his hands and urge her on.
Richart and Jenna appeared a couple of yards away. Their jaws dropped.
“Ahhh!” Richart spun around and gave them his back, then reached over, took his wide-eyed wife by the shoulders, and turned her back to them, too.
Scrambling to her feet, Lisette wheeled around. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, her face darkening with absolute fury, her French accent more pronounced than usual.
“I did not need to see that,” Richart said. “I mean I really did not need to see that. Jenna, honey, grab one of my daggers and poke out both my eyes.”
“Richart!” Lisette barked.
Zach mentally mumbled every curse word he knew, tucked himself away, and carefully raised his zipper, throbbing and trembling on the precipice. Just one more minute. If they’d just had one more minute . . .
“You’re my sister!” Richart shouted in dismay.
“I know that, jackass. Why are you here?”
“You didn’t answer your phone!” he complained.