by I. T. Lucas
“No, I went to see Kian.”
“About?”
“Your transition. I’ve been waiting patiently for him to tell us when, but I ran out of patience.”
Turner had been waiting too, but he figured that there was no sense in bugging Kian about it. The man had offered his help, which was incredibly generous of him.
Whenever Kian was ready to do it, was fine by him.
On the one hand, the waiting was stressful, but on the other hand, Turner was enjoying his time with Bridget and was in no hurry to end it. A few more days would make no difference health-wise.
But if Kian had changed his mind, choosing someone else to do the honors was an option.
As long as it wasn’t Spivak, Turner didn’t care who did it. And if Spivak were the only one available, he would swallow his pride and agree to his former subordinate’s bite.
“What did he say?”
“He wants to do it after Eva’s wedding. He says he is too busy now.”
“That’s fine. Are you sure he still wants to do it, though? I don’t want to impose. Any other immortal male would do.”
Bridget shook her head. “No. That’s where you’re wrong. Kian’s venom is the most potent. He is your best chance.”
“Just because he is Annani’s son doesn’t mean that he is the best one for the job.”
“Trust me, he is. Roni was induced three times before Kian finally did it. First was Andrew, then Onegus, and then Brundar. All of those attempts failed.”
“But you said that he didn’t transition before because he was sick. When Kian did it, Roni was healthy.”
“This is correct. But I also asked Roni to describe the four different experiences. He said that the difference between Kian and the other three was like the difference between weed and acid. No comparison.”
Turner arched a brow. “And he would know that how? Roni doesn’t strike me as a drug addict. He is too smart for that.”
Bridget waved a hand. “Of course he is not. He could not have tried anything even if he wanted to. It’s not like he was free to do as he pleased while being locked up. He used the comparison to illustrate, imagining the difference. There are enough references in literature and movies to draw on.”
Turner had spent some time exploring the subject. It wasn’t as straightforward as that. “Even so, what he described was the euphoric effect. That’s just one part of what the venom does. The other properties of Kian’s venom may or may not be more powerful than that of other immortal males. Take Yamanu for example. He is not a direct descendant of the goddess and yet he is the most powerful mind manipulator of the entire clan. Stronger than Kian. The same might be true of the venom. Some random clansman no one thinks much of could have the most potent one.”
Listening to him with a little smirk on her face, Bridget crossed her arms over her chest. “I see that you’ve been busy, Victor. Who did you interrogate to get this information?”
She’d caught him.
Oh, well, it wasn’t as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. Asking questions was not against the rules, and the information had been volunteered freely.
“Your Anandur is a fountain of gossip. Once I started him talking, I couldn't shut him up even if I tried. Suffice to say that I didn’t. In less than an hour, I learned from him more about the clan than from you the entire time we’ve been together.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s because when we are together, we have more important things to do than gossip.”
“True.” He smiled and reached for her hand across the table. “How about we get to those more important things right now. I vote for taking the rest of the day off.”
Bridget laughed. “I wish.”
“It’s already four o'clock. We can go home, do some of those important things, and then put in more work. After all, we live in the age of virtual workplaces and your boss doesn’t mind where we do it as long as it’s done.”
“I have a better idea. Let’s lock the door and put this nice sturdy table to good use.”
Turner eyed the table. In a pinch it would do, but he would’ve preferred the big comfortable bed they had at home. Except, he didn’t want to sound like an old fart who wasn’t up to the challenge.
“Julian is a few doors over. Aren’t you worried he might overhear us?”
“The classrooms have excellent soundproofing. And I can put a post-it on the door with a do not disturb written on it.”
Damn, he needed a better excuse.
“Wouldn’t it be like advertising what we are doing in here?”
Bridget shrugged. “I don’t care. We are both adults. We can do whatever we want.”
Eying the table again, he was reminded of the fantasy he’d had not so long ago about Bridget bent over the exam table in her clinic, wearing her doctor’s coat with nothing underneath it.
This wasn’t the clinic, and the wooden table didn’t have padding like the one in her exam room, but there was one part of the fantasy he could have.
“Is there any way you can get your doctor’s coat from the clinic?”
She arched a brow. “Why?”
“I fantasized about bending you over your exam table.”
“In my white coat?”
He nodded. “And nothing underneath it.”
“Kinky,” she purred. “Don’t move an inch.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’ll write the post-it note.”
26
Bridget
“Hi, Mom,” Julian said as Bridget opened the door to her former office at the clinic.
Crap, she’d hoped he wouldn’t be there. Now she would have to come up with a lie for why she needed her coat.
She grabbed it off the hook. “I’m taking my coat to put it in the laundry. Do you need yours laundered as well?”
“I can do it myself.”
“Right. So I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Mom.”
Had she imagined it, or had he sounded amused?
Nah, there was no way he could’ve guessed what she needed the coat for.
Where could she change, though?
The classroom she and Victor used for an office didn’t have a bathroom, and changing in the room while he watched would spoil half the fun.
A stethoscope would make the pretend game even better.
Glancing one way and then the other, she ducked into the back entrance of the clinic, through the waiting room and into the operating room, and from there into the supply room. There should be a stethoscope in one of the cabinets.
Bingo. She’d remembered correctly.
Quickly, she took her clothes off and put the coat over her nude body. Unfortunately, it was a shapeless one she normally just threw over her regular clothing. It was far from sexy.
If she could only find a belt to cinch it with.
Looking around, she spotted a roll of dressing. It would have to do. With quick hands, she unrolled it, cut off a long piece and looped it twice around her waist. Next, she shoved her clothes into a plastic bag. Unfortunately, she could only find the ones used to dispose of operating room trash, which were clear. If she encountered anyone out in the hallway, there would be no way to hide what she had in there.
Worst case scenario, she could claim to have spilled something over her clothing, which would explain why she was wearing her doctor’s coat with a belt made from dressing and why her clothes were in a plastic bag.
Opening the door to the corridor, she peeked out and looked both ways before sprinting the sixty feet or so separating the clinic’s back door and the office where Victor was waiting for her.
She smiled at the post-it note with his neat handwriting affixed to the door. He’d also covered the small square window at the top.
A moment before bursting in, she remembered the stethoscope, pulled it out of her coat pocket, and hung it around her neck.
“The doctor is here,” she announced upon enterin
g.
A bare-chested Victor was sitting on the table with a big grin on his handsome face. His shirt was affixed with tape to the interior side of the door’s window.
“Hello, doctor.”
She sauntered up to him. “What seems to be the problem, sir?”
“I’m afraid it’s an acute case of horniness.”
“Well, then, there is only one remedy I can recommend.” She walked in between his spread legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”
He grabbed her hips and pulled her against his erection, then kissed her, stroking her mouth with his own, then sucking on her lower lip.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting the bitter coffee.
As he took over the kiss, his palm moved to the back of her head, and his other one closed over her hip. Holding her to him, he plundered her mouth with his tongue.
She moaned, needing so much more than that. Bare underneath her coat, her nipples tightened, aching for his touch.
Still kissing her, his hand left her hip, skimming her waist and moving over to find her breast. He tweaked her hard nipple, then leaned down and closed his mouth around it through the fabric.
She shivered, the suction sending pulses of desire down to her center. After doing the same to her other nipple, he slid off the table and lifted her up, then put her down in the exact spot he’d vacated.
The table retained his body heat, transmitting it to her through the thin fabric of her coat.
Bridget slid her hands over his chest and his tight pectorals, then further down to unclasp his belt and lower the zipper. The slacks hit the floor, the belt buckle clunking against the concrete. She cupped his sex over his cotton briefs, the fabric stretched tight over the hard ridge, then rubbed her thumb over the plump head that had pushed past the waistband.
Victor threw his head back and groaned, his whole body shuddering at the contact.
She tugged the briefs down his muscular thighs, freeing his shaft and closing her palm around its girth.
Leaning into her, he planted one hand on the table and let his head fall on her shoulder.
She licked his neck, tasting the saltiness as her palm moved up and down his erection.
“Fuck.” He put a hand over hers to still her. “That’s enough.”
Reluctantly, she let him take her hand off his erection and place it on the table beside her.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, freeing the top two buttons of her coat.
His lips burned a path from her neck toward her breast.
“Oh, yes!” she cried out when his mouth formed a seal around her nipple. He suckled it hard until it throbbed, and then nibbled a little before repeating on her other side.
Keeping her hands on the table, she let her head drop back, surrendering to Victor’s lips and his tongue and his fingers. Her body was turning liquid under his touch, her core tightening with need.
He cupped her ass cheeks, pulled her up against his hard body, and then twisted her around, pushing with his hand on the small of her back until she was bent over the table, her cheek on the wooden surface.
Cool air hit her behind as he flipped the coat up, exposing her.
She sucked in a breath, her core clenching in anticipation.
“You’re so ready for me,” he said as he pushed two fingers inside her wetness.
“I need you.”
He cupped her sex, pressing his thumb to her clit. “Do you want me to make you come first?” he whispered in her ear.
“No, I want you inside me right now.”
She was too turned on for prolonged foreplay, her empty sheath aching with the need to be filled, and not by his fingers.
As he withdrew his digits, the hand on the small of her back moved up to cup her neck, and he pushed inside her with one hard thrust, then stilled, letting her adjust to the penetration.
Fates, it was good.
On a moan, she pushed back, her ass hitting the coarse hairs of his groin.
Victor started moving, long hard strokes that pushed her against the table. She didn’t mind that the edge was biting into her belly, or that her sensitive nipples were being dragged back and forth on the wood surface. All she cared about was the sensation of being deliciously filled by her man.
Soon, he was pounding into her fast and hard, his harsh breaths fanning over her shoulder, his sweat slickened front sticking to her back through the fabric of her coat.
Circling his arm around her middle, he rubbed two fingers over her clit. “Come for me, Bridget.” His blunt teeth closed over the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder, and he bit down, not hard enough to pierce skin, but hard enough to leave marks.
With a keening moan, the climax exploded over her just as his shaft swelled inside her.
Through the orgasmic haze, a tendril of a thought floated through her mind—a prayer to the Fates for Victor’s seed to find fertile ground.
27
Roni
“You did well, Roni.” Turner clapped his back. “I think you’re ready to join a class.”
They had been training once or twice a week depending on Turner’s schedule. Still, Roni was far from ready to show his moves to anyone other than his new trainer. Besides, he liked spending time with the old man.
So yeah, the dude rarely smiled, and he didn’t talk much, but when he did, he wasn’t spouting nonsense or gossip like most other people. They had talked about a lot of interesting stuff. Things Roni couldn’t talk about with anyone else without boring them to death.
Well, not death, he was hanging out with immortals, but they might wish they were dead if he bugged them with his theories about gravity and what it had to do with dark matter in the universe.
Grabbing a towel from his bag, he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Not yet. I like training with you and talking about shit no one else wants to talk about.”
Turner treated him to one of his rare smiles. “You’ve got a point there. Problem is that in less than two weeks, I might not be around to train you.”
“Why?”
“Hopefully, I’ll be busy transitioning.”
“Aren’t you too old for that?”
“Maybe. But I’m going to try it anyway. Except, I’m most likely not a Dormant and nothing will happen.”
“Or you are a Dormant, and you will end up dead. Don’t do it, dude. I’m nineteen, and the transition put me in a three-day coma.”
“This is not up for discussion.”
Well, fuck. Turner was pulling that adult talking to a kid thing. “I might be young, but I’m not stupid. Don’t talk to me like that.”
Turner paused in the middle of taking off his training shirt. “It has nothing to do with your age. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m not discussing it with anyone.”
Roni eyed Turner’s abs with envy. The guy was built, and not only for an old man, for any guy. He could compete with the Guardians.
“I’ll be sorry to see you go. That’s all I have to say.”
“I appreciate the sentiment.” Turner shrugged on a new T-shirt.
Roni wasn’t going to let it go that easily. He liked the guy too much to give up on him. “How about you come up for a drink, and we can talk some more?”
“I told you. It’s a done deal. You’re not going to talk me out of it.”
“I’m not going to try.” Yes, he was. “I enjoy talking to you about stuff. Besides, Sylvia is bugging me to invite you. I promised her I would.”
Turner grimaced. “I need to go home and shower. Maybe some other time.”
“How about later this evening? You can bring Doctor Bridget with you, and we can have dinner together. Ruth, Sylvia’s mom, is a great cook. You guys are going to have a good time, and Ruth is going to enjoy some adult company for a change.” Not true, but it sounded good. Ruth preferred no company at all.
“I’ll ask Bridget.”
“Awesome.” Roni grinned. Bridget was not going to say no. “I’ll tell Ruth to start cooking.
”
“Don’t. I’ll call you and let you know if we are coming or not.”
Roni waved a hand. “See you later.”
He was going to tell Ruth right away. The woman loved cooking but hated pressure. If he sprung dinner on her at the last moment, she was going to lose her ever-loving shit.
Despite her quirks and oddities, he liked having Ruth around. In fact, he felt guilty when she went home at night. Imagining her alone in her little house with no one to talk to didn’t sit well with him. He knew how it felt to be isolated. Perhaps he should suggest for her to move in with him and Sylvia.
He wouldn’t mind, but Sylvia probably would. She loved her mother, but she also wanted her freedom.
As he exited the elevator and headed down the corridor, the smells of cooking made him realize that he might be too late and Ruth had already started on dinner. No one else on their floor cooked, so the smells must’ve been coming from his apartment.
He opened the door and went straight to the kitchen. “Ruth, can you handle two more guests for dinner, or am I too late?”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “Who did you invite?”
“Doctor Bridget and Turner. I don’t know yet if they will come, Turner has to ask Bridget, but I wanted to check with you first to see if I need to order takeout.”
As if she would ever allow him to do that. But he didn’t want to appear as if he expected her to cook for him on demand.
“Don’t be silly. There is enough food in here for two more. I’ll just add another salad to make the table look fancier.”
He leaned and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best, Ruth.”
With a goofy smile, she waved the mixing spoon. “Yeah, yeah.”
Roni found Sylvia in the bedroom, lying on her tummy and reading a book on her tablet.
“Are you reading one of those steamy romances of yours?”
She turned her head. “It’s a romance, but it’s not steamy.”
He pounced on top of her. “Read something else.”
“Why?”