by Eve Langlais
“Why?” I didn’t make sense to have one.
“How else is the cleanup crew going to find the bodies?”
“Seems a waste of good meat.” She eyed the serpent tail, wondering what it tasted like roasted.
“I have steak at home.”
“Now you’re talking my language.” She began to strut away, wondering if he watched.
He passed her, eyes straight ahead.
It annoyed her. Especially since she was pretty sure his pretend ignoring was contrived.
She decided to test the theory.
“Brrrr. Is it much farther? I’m getting cold,” Jane said.
“Shit. I didn’t even think of bringing you a blanket or coat.” Adrian glanced at himself, and his shirt. He’d rushed out without a jacket. He turned a concerned gaze on her. “How can I help you get warm?”
Adrian walked right into the trap she’d laid. Nearing him, she clutched his shirt and dragged him close. “I need you.” She plastered her mouth to his.
“We can’t.” He struggled to turn his head. “You’re my patient.”
“You’re fired. I’m going to find another doctor.”
For some reason, that made him chuckle. “That might not be so simple.”
“You’re right. It’s not. But if that’s what it takes…”
He sighed. “I’m not right for you, Jane.”
“I’d say that’s my decision to make. Not yours.”
“What do you want from me?”
Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. “You. Naked. Reminding me what it feels like to be alive.”
“Jane.” He moaned her name as he finally crushed her to his chest. His mouth hotly seeking hers. About time.
Their lips melded together in a searing kiss that sent blood coursing hotly through her body. She molded herself to him, enjoying the tight wrap of his arms. A shame they both wore too much clothing.
Something easily rectified.
She shoved away from him, loving how his eyes tracked her, glowing with passion.
A second later she glowed, too, as she exuded enough heat to send her clothes swirling away as ash.
“Jesus, Jane.” Half plea, half prayer. He reached out, hesitated before touching her skin. “Will it burn?”
“I should hope so.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast. She wasn’t a virgin, and twenty years had given her plenty of time to know what she liked. What she wanted.
He cupped her breast, squeezed it, found her mouth for a kiss as he kneaded it. It was rather easy, as it turned out, to tear the shirt from him, baring his upper body.
She delighted in the rub of her erect nipples against his chest.
His pants went next, shoved to the ground, and he stepped out of them, standing tall and naked before her.
Very erect.
She wanted to climb him like a tree and perch on his branch. But he had other ideas. He walked her backwards until she was propped against a tree. He then dropped to his knees, a supplicant before her, who lifted her left leg to place it over his shoulder. He turned his head and kissed the soft skin of her inner thigh.
She quivered.
He kissed his way to her sex, soft embraces that brought shivers and moans. When she expected him to finally lick her, he instead ran his fingers over her honey-dewed lips, rubbing that moisture over her clit. The sensation had her arching her hips, bumping his face.
Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, especially since he chuckled.
“Do you have any idea how much you excite me?” he asked, the words a hot flutter against her sex.
“Show me.”
He did, his mouth latching onto her and licking. Not the inept act of a boy still learning to please, but a man. A man who worshipped her flesh. Who spread her lips with his tongue and lapped at her. Who grasped her clit with his lips and teased her.
Teased her so well she couldn’t help but come, the heat of her climax making her glow. She remembered to keep it tight lest she burn him.
But he didn’t make it easy. He kept licking her. Flicking her swollen button. Then shoved a finger inside her, drawing a gasp.
“More.” Oh, how she wanted more.
“Turn around,” he ordered. He rose behind her as she spun around. She understood his intent and grabbed hold of the tree trunk, automatically thrusting out her ass. She throbbed for him, her inner furnace hot and ready for his touch.
She felt him moving behind her, his hands palming her waist, arching her even further. He parted her thighs by inserting his foot between hers. The tip of his rigid shaft rubbed against her damp slit. Wetted itself in her honey. Teased her.
“Are you sure?” the silly man paused to ask, even as she knew he ached for this as much as she did.
“Very.” She pushed back against him, sinking him between the lips of her sex, pushing him deep. Throwing her head back at the fullness that brought. The satisfaction.
It felt so good. He was so big. He throbbed as he remained still inside her. She felt him pulsing as if he held back.
Oh hell no. She pushed back against him, sinking him even farther, ground herself against him.
“Jane.” Just her name. Groaned. And then he finally snapped.
He began to thrust, in and out, a driving, hard rhythm that soon had her panting as her nails dug into the bark of the tree.
The heat in her built as he kept slamming, the thickness of him stretching her. Pummeling her sweet spot in all the right ways. Ways she’d heard about, but never experienced until him.
“Adrian.” Her turn to moan his name. To let him know she wanted him. Him and no one else. If possible, he grew thicker, and she got hotter. Enough that he exclaimed, “You’re glowing.”
And she was about to explode.
He must have known it, must have felt the heat, and yet he kept pounding into her. Kept thrusting and pushing, his body slamming into hers until he groaned. “Not without you.”
She didn’t know what he meant at first.
He slowed down, curved his body to hers, drawing her upright. Her head leaned back into his shoulder. His lips latched onto her neck. His hands. One kneaded her breast, the fingers pulling and rolling a nipple. The other toyed with her clit. Rubbing and pinching while he ground himself into her.
A steady grind that had her hiccupping with pleasure, the inferno within growing hotter and hotter. His lips latched onto one spot, and he growled against her skin.
“You’re mine, Jane.” A claim that came with a firm bite of her flesh.
Enough to make her explode, the heat of her ecstasy bathing them. Binding them in a way nothing could tear asunder.
Unless you were a monster who thought it was a good time to interrupt. It came from the bushes with a scream of rage.
It met Jane’s fiery annoyance.
She didn’t leave anything for the cleanup crew to handle.
And Adrian…dear sweet Adrian…he gave her a crooked smile and said, “Want to share my bed?”
Chapter Sixteen
The pounding on the door brought a growl to Adrian’s lips. He clutched closer the warm, naked body resting with him. But the interruption continued.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Shaking off sleep, and the lethargy brought about by epic sex, he finally grasped the fact someone truly wanted his attention. It only belatedly occurred that none of his alarms had gone off.
Not a good sign.
“Shit.” He rolled out of bed, leaving Jane under the covers while he grabbed for some pants. He pulled them over his ass a second before she said drowsily, “Honey, kill whoever that is, would you?”
Given how his cock swelled at her calling him honey, he’d gladly murder the person who was taking him away from her. He wanted nothing more than to dive back into that bed and make love to her until she scorched him with her climax once again.
But he had a feeling he wasn’t getting any more rest—or sex—this morning, because sure enough dawn had come and gone. Enterin
g the main living area, he noticed the sunlight streamed through the two-story windows that lacked the black-out curtains of his bedroom.
He rubbed his chest, the scratches a sign of a good time. He probably should have put on a shirt.
As he passed a console table with the basket of keys on top, he reached under and pulled the gun he’d clipped beneath it. After what happened at the old clinic, Adrian took to stashing weapons in every room of the house. Sometimes two.
He released the safety as he crept the rest of the way to the door with its insistent pounding. He tingled, awareness nudging him, danger spiking his adrenaline.
Should he call out? What if it were Jett? Or a delivery fellow?
Jett would have just walked in. He knew the keypad combination. The delivery guy would have dropped the package or left a notice by now.
So who did that leave? A home invader wouldn’t announce his presence.
He stopped to the side of the portal, and the pounding stopped. Adrian waited, wondering if the person had left. His alarm system glowed green. Whoever stood outside hadn’t triggered any of the motion detectors. He couldn’t see, the only windows the transom over his large front door.
He still tingled, his being bristling with a sense of danger. “Who is it?” he asked on impulse.
“Me, you fucking idiot. Open the goddamn door!” Luke yelled, the sound of his voice muffled.
The panic, however, was clear. Adrian unlocked and flung open the portal to see Luke looming on his front stoop. “Why didn’t you call to tell me you were coming?”
“I did,” growled Luke. “So did Jett. You weren’t answering. He’s on his way.”
“But you got here first.” Meaning he’d been staying nearby.
“Yeah, I might have broken a few speed limits. It was an emergency,” Luke stated.
Which could mean only one thing. “Where’s Margaret?”
Luke jerked his head at the car. “She’s panting in the backseat. Says the baby is coming. But it can’t be. It’s too soon.”
“Not according to her body. Let’s get her inside.” Excitement hued Adrian’s suggestion.
Luke held him back and muttered, “Before we grab her, you should know there’s something wrong. She’s in pain.”
“Which is normal when going into labor.” Adrian went to step past, but Luke wasn’t done.
“I know normal, and I’m telling you something is wrong. I think…” Luke paused. “I think the baby is hurting her.”
“Then let’s stop wasting time,” Adrian snapped. He knew what Luke feared. Could almost smell it. Adrian just couldn’t refute it. The baby was a hybrid. Who knew what the trauma of birth would make it do. Despite that, he offered reassurance. “Margaret won’t die if I have anything to say about it.”
“She better not, or you’ll be seconds behind her,” Luke growled.
A threat that Adrian didn’t pay much mind. Luke wasn’t the first father who panicked seeing his wife in pain, helpless to fix it.
Reaching the car, Adrian opened the rear door and saw Margaret hunched on the seat, knees pulled to her chest. Panting. Her damp hair stuck to her face in wet tendrils.
“Hello, Margaret.”
She turned wide eyes on him. “Don’t hello me. Get me inside and tell me you’ve got drugs.”
“I’ve got a few things to help with the pain. Can you walk?”
“Yes.” She went to get out of the car, only to have Luke scoop her into his arms.
“Put me down. I’m not an invalid,” she exclaimed, only to gasp and cling tight to Luke as her body spasmed.
Luke’s jaw tightened. “Basement again, I assume?” He strode to the house, carrying his wife, without waiting for an answer.
As they entered, Jane appeared, looking tousled. “What’s happening?”
“The baby’s coming.” He waved Luke on. “Get her in the bed. I’ll be right there.”
“She’s going to deliver a baby in my bed?” Jane asked with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Is it still your bed?” he asked with an arched brow.
Her lips curved. “Guess not. Do you need my help?”
“I should be fine. Jett is going to be here soon with Becky.”
“Then I’m going back to bed. I had a busy night.” She winked before sashaying back to the bedroom, a view he wanted to chase, but Luke chose to bellow, “Are you fucking coming?”
It took but a moment to jog down the stairs. Margaret was sitting on the bed.
“Lie down,” Luke ordered.
“Don’t want to,” she refused. She sat with her legs dangling, cradling her belly, panting.
“Give me a second to wash up and we’ll have a look,” Adrian said, heading for the bathroom sink.
When he re-emerged, Margaret immediately asked, “Did you get gas or needle for the pain?”
“I have both. Which do you want?”
In reply, she curved forward, rounding out her back. It made it easier for him to give her an epidural. The needle slid with ease between the vertebrae, and the medication went to work immediately.
She uttered a sigh and said, “Thank God.”
“That was fast.” Luke sounded surprised.
“Which is why it’s the method of choice,” Adrian remarked. “Do you mind if we get you in a gown?”
She nodded, and Adrian immediately pulled the stack of freshly laundered gowns he’d had delivered. He handed one to Luke and then excused himself. He’d only had time for a quick wash before administering the epidural. He took a moment in the washroom downstairs to splash water on his face and change into some scrubs he kept there.
He wished he had time to pop in and check on Jane; however, Luke and Margaret needed him more than a sleeping nymph.
If she needed him, she could easily find him.
He exited the washroom to see Margaret now wearing a light pink gown. Luke held her hand, his anxiety probably not helping.
Time to see what they were dealing with. “May I check on the baby?” Adrian asked, indicting her belly.
Margaret lay down, and yet her stomach protruded, a mountain riding from her midsection. A jiggly mountain.
“The baby is active,” he remarked.
“Baby’s trying to pummel his way out,” Luke muttered.
“It’s probably agitated by the contractions. Not uncommon, I should add.”
“She almost fell over walking he was rocking around so hard.”
“Again, that kind of thing does happen.” Adrian sought to reassure, and yet he needed to see what was going on. He flicked on the ultrasound, only to curse as the screen displayed an error message.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked.
“The system is insisting we run a software update.”
“Then run it.”
“I can’t.” Because, like his oddly misbehaving security system, his internet service appeared to be down. “We’ll have to check on the baby using more old-fashioned methods. The good news is the last ultrasound showed junior with his head down. Here’s to hoping he didn’t flip.”
“Pretty sure he’s still head down,” Margaret replied. “Feels like I’ve got a bowling ball hanging in my pelvis.”
“Let’s check, shall we.” Adrian placed his hands on the taut skin of Margaret’s belly, felt it ripple and lump as the child within moved. It made it hard to pinpoint body parts but, at the top of her belly, definitely a foot. “Still head down it seems. We should check on your cervix next.”
But first, another contraction and, according to his watch, just over four minutes from the last. He felt the spasming as the uterus contracted, agitating the baby, who pummeled his mother, causing her to cry out despite the pain block.
“Luke, put a blood pressure band on her, would you?” he asked to give the man something to do.
While Luke jumped to obey—like a well-trained wolf—Adrian drew on new gloves and grabbed a small flashlight.
He looked at Margaret. “May I take a peek?”
“Any other man I’d kill,” Luke remarked as she spread her legs and pulled up her knees, exposing herself.
But there was nothing sexual in what Adrian did. Childbirth was a biological thing. When he peered between her legs, it wasn’t with sexual interest. When he placed his fingers within her, it was merely to check the progress of her dilation.
Which was poor.
He pulled out and snapped off the glove. “She’s not even a centimeter dilated.”
“Meaning?” Luke growled.
“Meaning, you might have panicked for nothing,” Margaret relayed. “I’m still in the pre-labor stage.”
“But you are having contractions. You’re in pain.”
Adrian felt sympathy for the man who wanted to help but didn’t know how to fight. “Pre-labor is the beginning stages, and it can last hours. Sometimes even days.” He faced her. “How long have you had the contractions?”
“About six hours now. But they were far apart until about an hour ago. That’s when Luke noticed.”
“You were in the bloody tub rocking. Fucking right I noticed.” Luke had attached the pressure gauge, which started pumping and taking readings.
“Well, I’m certainly not sending you home,” Adrian announced. “If your body is in pre-labor, then that means it’s ready to give birth. The question is, do we wait and attempt a natural birth or do a C-section?”
“What do you mean attempt?” Luke growled.
“I told you before, the child is rather large. Margaret isn’t.”
Luke turned to Margaret. “What do you want to do?”
Rather than reply, her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body began to convulse. Her blood pressure dropped, making the decision for them.
“What’s happening?” Luke cried out.
“I think she might be hemorrhaging internally. We need to deliver the baby now.” He didn’t mention the fact that he’d never actually performed a C-section. How hard could it be?
Pretty damned hard when the surface he needed to slice wouldn’t stop wobbling. “I need the baby to stop moving,” Adrian remarked. “Can you calm him?”
“By what, singing him a fucking lullaby?” Luke cursed, and yet he placed his hands on the rollicking tummy, which quieted. “That’s a good boy. Let’s stay still and let Doctor Frankenstein do his work.”