Текст книги "The King"

Автор книги: J. R. Ward

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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 39 страниц)

FIFTY-TWO

Watching Selena take from his vein, Trez was totally content to blow off whatever was going on down in Caldwell for this.

He’d still been at the club, finishing up some accounting shit that should have been taken care of days before, when he’d gotten the group text about the gathering. And he’d immediately headed home—expecting to see Selena. When she didn’t show, he’d told himself to chill, let her come when she did, blah, blah, blah.

He’d lasted about a minute and a half with that shit before ghosting out, leaving iAm looking grim in the foyer with Goddamn Cat, as he called the animal, back in his arms.

As soon as Trez had gotten up to the great camp, he’d sensed Selena’s presence and become juiced—but that had all changed when he’d found her in the kitchen, in the middle of some kind of collapse. Come on, though—when was the last time she’d fed—

From out of nowhere, his cock and balls roared at the thought of her sharing this with anyone else, and to get himself back on the side of the angels, he focused on the pulls against his wrist, the sight of her lips against his skin, the reality that he was, in fact, the one taking care of her.

For how long, though, a part of him wondered.

“Shut up.” As her eyes flipped to his, he shook his head. “Not you.”

Tracing her hair with his fingertips, he marveled at the difference in them, how soft everything about her was, how she smelled like fresh spring air even though it was winter, how her lashes were long against her pale cheeks as she closed her lids.

He could have stayed like this forever.

But eventually she released him, retracting her fangs and her mouth. And then it was time for a little torture: Her pink tongue snuck out and licked at the puncture wounds, closing them up—cranking him up.

Reclining in his arms, her eyes were fuzzy under those heavy lashes, unfocused from satisfaction.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he said softly. “Not for a second.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “And not just because we have … unfinished business.”

Her smile would have knocked him on his ass if he hadn’t already been sitting down. “That we do.”

God, he loved the quiet here. No loud music, no humans cluttering the room, no pressures from the outside world—or the s’Hisbe. Not even the Brothers and their mates, as cool as they all were. Just the two of them.

As his erection thickened even further, he had to shift his hips under her head. And then he heard himself say, “I want to make love to you. Right now.”

Shit, had he really put that out there? And yet, right now, all the reasons to keep tight in the head seemed so far away, nothing but distant thunder in a night sky that was for the moment clear and full of stars.

Except then a shadow crossed her face, the lazy satiation replaced by a doubt that made him want to kick himself in the zip code.

Instead of pulling away, though, her hand reached up and caressed his face. “I want that.”

“You sure?” Fuck, he was hard. Too hard to do the right thing.

When she nodded … he knew they were both lost.

“Please,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. “Put me out of this misery, take away the burn.”

Her hand swept down her body, coming to rest on the juncture of her legs—and he almost orgasmed then and there, his balls tightening and his cock punching against his pants, until he had to grind his molars.

His first thought was to take her where they were. Not smart.

He wasn’t going to stop, even if someone else came in.

With a surge of strength, Trez got to his feet with her in his arms, cradling her with care. “Where is your bedroom?”

“Upstairs. In the back.”

Striding off, he carried her up the creaking stairs to the second floor, heading for a suite that was over the kitchen wing, kicking open the door. Inside, the Victorian furniture was all heavy mahogany with lots of curves, and the bed was a spectacular expanse of millwork, the perfect frame for her as he laid her on the velvet duvet.

Prowling up her body, he straddled her, being careful not to put any weight down. “I want to … see you.”

Her hands went for the tie on her robe, but he stopped her. “No, I’d like to … do it.”

The belt was as white and soft as the rest of what she wore, and as his dark hands loosened the bow, he licked his lips. Parting the two halves of all the draping, he took his time with the reveal.

“Oh, fuck…”

Yeah, her nipples tightened even more as the cool air hit them.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and licked at one, sucking it into his mouth as he kept going with what she was wearing, sweeping the fabric off her. Then he took care of the other one as he stroked his way down to her thighs.

Her scent went right to his sex, his cock kicking again, trying to get out.

And shit, the sound of her moaning his name made him sag. But then he was back in action, touching her between her legs, finding the hot, wet core of her and rubbing the top. As her nails bit into his upper arms, he smiled against her breast.

“Come for me,” he groaned as he suckled on her.

Right on cue, her body tightened, a cord yanking straight, her torso jacking against his chest as he switched to her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her as he helped her ride the orgasm out. When it was over, she collapsed, breathing hard.

“Please…” Her voice cracked. “I know there’s more.”

“Yeah, there is.” He reared up and nearly ripped his shirt in half. “Fuck, yeah—shit, I mean … damn it.”

He knew he needed to watch the language, and vowed to do better with the vocab.

His pants were treated no better than what had been on his pecs as he tossed them away, not even caring that they landed on one of the spires of the headboard.

“You are … magnificent.”

As she spoke, Trez froze and met her eyes—except she was not looking at his face. Nope. Her stare was locked down below, and a quick peek of his own confirmed that his heavily aroused cock was straight and proud, ready to get the job done.

“May I touch you?” she said shyly. Except she was already reaching for him, her pale hand—

The growl he let out was loud enough to shake the mirror by the door, and he fell to the side. “Careful … oh, God…”

He was going to come, especially as she stroked—

“Oh, Jesus,” he said on a hiss before he bit down on his lower lip.

Selena got on her knees, her heavy breasts swaying, her hair uncoiling from its chignon. Two-handing him, she found a steady motion, going up and down, up and down, popping over the top of his head and then finding his shaft again. And as she worked him, his hips countered her, the rhythm getting faster and faster.

With a sudden jerk, he pushed her onto her back and took her hands away from his body.

“But I want to—”

He cut her off with his mouth, licking his way past her lips. “I want to come inside of you.”

Her smile was sexy as hell, her eyes sparkling. “And then I get to explore?”

“You are going to kill me, female.”

As he mounted her, she parted her legs to make room. “You’re the only one I’m thinking of,” he heard himself say.

And what do you know, this time the past stayed away—probably because he’d spent the hours they’d been apart thinking of her on the floor of that bathroom, writhing under his mouth, wanting more. Yeah, the desperation to get into her, have her, orgasm in her, was stronger than all the things he hated about himself. Nothing was going to stop this now.

Especially as, during the time they’d been separated, he’d pointed one salient fact out to himself:

She had been with a lot of males, too.

That was part of her job—even though he hated to think of it. As a Chosen who served the blood needs of others, she had been trained sexually and been with the males she had served. It was the way things worked.

And as much as it depressed him, he supposed it put them on an equal footing—although the sex she’d been having had been part of a sacred role that saved lives. His had just been an addiction.

Past tense there, he thought. Nice.

Gripping himself, he angled his cock and closed the distance, pressing into her, finding the right spot. With a groan, he brought both arms up so that he cradled her head—and as their eyes met, he could tell she’d stopped breathing, as if bracing herself for his size.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, kissing her gently.

Her voice was a mere whisper: “Thank you.”

As he inched into her, she was curiously still, her eyes closed, her fangs descending. And all he could do was stare at how beautiful she was against the bloodred velvet duvet, her black hair tangling on the pillow, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re tight,” he gritted out. “Dear God.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t—”

“Do it, just do it.”

Trez frowned, thinking that was an odd way—

It happened so fast that he didn’t have a chance to stop it—Selena gripped his hips, locked him in place, and thrust herself forward, driving him past a barrier … that should not have been there.

As she let out a gasp of pain, nothing computed. “What the…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t finish the thought. The tight grip of her all around him was too much, and the orgasm that had been brewing kicked out of him, flowing into her body.

In response, Selena linked her legs around his ass, a sigh rippling out of her as he tried to keep any thrusting to a minimum. Virgin? Virgin …

And then he remembered, back in the bathroom … Take me, teach me.

Virgin.

Trez withdrew so fast, she winced—and he nearly ended up not just off the bed, but out of the room.

The blood on his deflating erection made his gut fist up. “Selena … Christ, why didn’t you say something?”

Her eyes dropped from his as she pulled her robe together. She even redid the cloth belt before sitting up on the pillows. “I wanted you. I still do. It’s as simple as that.”

He reached up to loosen the necktie that was constricting his breathing—and remembered he was buck-ass naked.

“Not simple,” he said hoarsely. “That is not simple.”

The last thing he needed was another female he was obligated to wed: If Phury as Primale wanted him to follow through on this? What the hell was he going to do?

Especially because … he was falling in love with Selena.

* * *

As Trez stood naked on the far side of the room, Selena thought, Hmm, not what she’d been going for.

But she’d been right to keep quiet. At the last minute, she’d made a conscious decision not to tell him—for precisely this reason.

“How is– how– why…” The stuttering was not a good sign. “I thought you were an ehros.”

“I am.”

“So how are you a virgin?”

“I was not used in that manner.”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “Why me?” Abruptly, he cursed. “I mean…”

“As I said, I wanted to be with you. I still do.” After the strike of pain, she’d only gotten a hint of the pleasure—she wanted to know what else there was to making love.

Putting his head in his hands, he just stood there. “Christ.”

“Just so that we understand each other,” she said crisply, “I’m not expecting anything from you. If that’s what you’re worried about. There shall be no mating.”

Not with her future. Although with the way Trez was looking, that wouldn’t have been in the cards anyway—

“You sure your Primale will think like that?”

She kicked her chin up. “Who’s going to tell him.” When that seemed to stop him, she shrugged. “It shan’t be me. And no one else is in this house with us. So if you do not, he will never know.”

In truth, she wasn’t sure what Phury would do if he found out—technically, now that she’d had sex with someone other than the Primale or a Brother, she was fallen. But it was hard to know in these new times how much of the old ways survived.

Not that it mattered. Her time was coming due.

Which was why, when Trez had paused after noting her sex was tight, she’d taken matters into her own hands. She’d been determined to not lose her chance, especially not after that episode downstairs at the kitchen table.

Abruptly, she thought of the one he was bound to—and felt a lance of pain through her chest.

“Worry not,” she said with exhaustion. “There is nothing to be done.”

“I do have honor, you know,” he snapped.

“I mean no offense.”

He closed his eyes and muttered, “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“I fail to see the problem. My body is mine to give and I chose you—and you wanted me.”

At that, his lids rose. “I hurt you.”

“What was painful was that you stopped.”

Trez shook his head. “This is a mess.”

“According to whom?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” But at least he came over and sat on the bed. Putting his head back into his hands, he exhaled hard. “I shouldn’t have been the one, Selena. Anybody but me.”

“Again, don’t you think that’s a judgment only I can make?”

“But you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” After all, he’d told her about the human women. His parents. His being tied to another. What else could there be?

“Nope. You don’t—”

A sound cut through the room, and it took a moment for her to realize it was a portable phone ringing.

“Are you fucking me,” he groused as he reached past her to the pillow. On it, a cellular device was sitting with its screen facing up, having clearly slid out of his pants pocket when they ended up on the headboard.

He checked the number—and then looked over to the clock. “What time is it—oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve got to take this.” He glanced around as if looking for some privacy. “I’ll be right back.”

As she watched him go out into the hall, his naked body was resplendent—and just the sight of his backside was enough to get her assessing whether or not she’d ever get the chance to be with him again.

Closing her eyes, she stretched herself and found an ache in her pelvis that had never been there before.

Yes, it had hurt some. But not enough to make her regret anything—or not want to do it again.

Something told her it wasn’t in her future, however.

She should have said something to him.

But there was no taking that decision back.

FIFTY-THREE

In the end, Wrath signed the goddamn dissolution proclamation.

His mother’s ring on his pinkie finger was what made up his mind: That ruby was a symbol of Beth’s solemn vow to him and it made him think about everything his female had done for him. In order to mate him, she’d put her faith, her heart, her future in him and his people, traditions, customs—turning away from her human side entirely, to the point where she had no contact with that race anymore, nothing outside him and his brothers, his job taking over both their lives.

She had gained much, sure. But she had lost everything she had ever known. And she’d done it for him, for them.

Right now, the most important thing was not the throne. No, it was living up to the standard she herself had set: He needed to put his signature where his mouth was. Even though he hated this whole fucking thing, from the aristocrats and the Band of Bastards to the sense of loss that came with this piece of cocksucking paper, he had to honor what he’d told his Beth.

Her traditions were just as weighty and important as his own.

If he didn’t do this? He was treating her with the same disrespect the Council had.

And this was the most logical way to circumvent the glymera.

A nice little get-it-up-ya to their machinations.

“Where’s the pen?” he growled.

When Rehv put the thing in his dagger hand, he squeezed Beth’s palm. “Where do I do it?”

“Right here,” she said roughly. “Here.”

He let her lead the pen’s nib to where there must have been a line, and then he scribbled his name.

“What happens now?” he demanded.

Rehv laughed with a nasty edge. “I roll this little missive up and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” There was the rustling of parchment. “They called for the ‘crowning’ to happen at midnight. Fucking shame I have to wait until then. Come on, Saxton, you need some food. You look like you’re ready to collapse.”

Wrath glanced over at the silent, unmoving crowd. “Well. Are you people eating or what.”

As conversation jumped into the silence, like his brothers knew he needed the attention elsewhere, he took Beth’s arm.

“Get us out of here,” he said harshly.

“Roger that.”

With quick efficiency, his shellan led him away from the noise and the food, and when he caught a whiff of burning wood, he guessed she’d taken him over toward the library.

“Lie down, George,” she said as she pulled up short at what he guessed was the doorway. “I know, I know you don’t want to sit out here, but we need a minute.”

Good call, he thought as he dropped his hold and walked forward on his own, his dagger hand stretched out. When he felt the mantel, he wished he could see the banked fire. He wanted to poke something hot and make it sizzle.

A click-click told him she’d shut them in.

“Thank you,” his Beth said.

He turned around. “Back at you.”

“It’s going to be all right.”

“If you’re talking about the Band of Bastards, I wouldn’t be so sure. There’ll be another angle. We’ve bought some time, but not solved the problem.”

Man, the bitterness in his voice was so not him. But this situation had changed him.

Thank God his father was dead—and wasn’t that something he’d never imagined thinking—

From behind him, Beth pressed herself against his body, her hands slipping up to his shoulders and rubbing the tight muscles. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

He had to laugh. “Elvis did do a great job.”

“You know what’s customary for humans to do after they make it official?”

“What?”

As her arms slipped around his waist, she came around, rose up on her tiptoes and kissed the side of his throat. And what do you know, his mood started to improve.

“Consummation,” she murmured. “It’s traditional for the man and wife to seal the deal, if you know what I mean.”

Wrath started to smile, but then he remembered the last time they were together—and the circumstances. “Are you sure you’re ready for that after … well, you know.”

“Very sure.”

To prove the point, she rubbed herself against him, and he had to curse. Instantly starved, he nonetheless reeled that wild side in as he dropped his head and took his wife’s mouth.

“Pick me up,” she said on a sigh.

As he complied, she pulled the dress she was wearing to her waist, her legs splitting to go around his hips.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he groaned.

“I wanted to be prepared for this.”

“Jesus, I’m glad I didn’t know—I would have…”

He didn’t bother finishing that one. Instead, as she tightened a hold around his neck, he reached in between them and unbuttoned his slacks. Instantly, his cock sprang free, throbbing and hot, and as he settled her a little lower, he found her core—

“Shit! What if you’re pregnant?” he blurted, shoving her back. “Fuck—”

“Pregnant women have sex. Really. They do.”

Stretching up, she sucked in his lower lip and then nipped it with her fangs. “Unless you’re saying you don’t want me?”

He weaved in his shitkickers. “So not the case.”

He solved any confusion there by entering her slowly, pressing in, finding home in a gentle way. She didn’t seem to hurt any, but he wasn’t taking chances as his palms cupped her ass and he began to move her up and down on him.

“I love you,” he said into her hair. “Forever.”

As she murmured it back into his ear, a shaft of paranoia drained some of the heat out of his body.

Had his father said the same thing to his mother?

And he knew how that had ended.

From out of nowhere, V’s warning came to him, about the field of white and the future in his hands. What did—

“Wrath,” his wife whispered. “Come back to me. Focus on me here and now…”

With a groan of submission, he let all the bullshit go, doing as she’d commanded, feeling and knowing only the sensation of him pumping in and out of her. The orgasm was a quiet one, a wave that approached and retreated with all the thunder of a summer breeze. But as he came inside his female and felt her contract around him, it seemed more powerful than all the ones that had rocked his balls.

He did not want to let her go.

Ever.

* * *

Outside of Selena’s bedroom, Trez accepted the call—but didn’t get a “hello” in.

“Where the fuck are you,” the queen’s executioner bit out. “And where is what you promised me.”

Trez squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m on my way.”

“Don’t you fuck with me.”

The connection was cut.

“Trez?” Selena asked from inside the room. “Is everything all right?”

Nope. Not in the slightest.

How was it noon already?

He pushed the door wide. “Yeah. But I gotta go.”

Cursing under his breath, he went directly to his pants and yanked them on—and when his balls got caught in the zipper, he deliberately pulled up harder, the pain shooting through his pelvis and making him sick.

That little phone call from s’Ex was a reminder of all the reasons it had been a dumb-ass idea to come up here.

Virgin.

Fuck.

As he grabbed his shirt and stuffed an arm through a sleeve, he was acutely aware of Selena sitting silently on the bed.

Virgin.

Right on cue, all those women he’d fucked came back to him in a rush, once again crowding the space between them. And then he had a happy thought about the ones he was providing s’Ex today.

“That’s not happening again,” he said, motioning to the bed, to her.

Once was already too much.

In response, Selena’s face gave nothing away, but her scent said it all: The sadness came out of her very pores.

And yet she met him in the eye. “As you wish. But I shall be here if you change your mind.”

Man, she was nothing but self-possession as she stared him down, almost challenging him to stay away.

His self-control was not that good. But the situation he was in was that bad.

iAm was already at risk. If Selena were involved with him?

He didn’t want her falling into his Hell.

Oh, and as for Phury? He felt like shit saying nothing to the Primale. Just another way he’d dishonored her—but nothing good could come of a reveal like that.

“I have to go,” he muttered.

“As you wish.”

He reaaaaallly wanted her to stop saying that.

Trez all but stumbled from the room, and he didn’t remember anything of the trip down the stairs, through the dark house, and out into the bright, snowy side yard. Closing his eyes, it was a while before he could focus and concentrate enough to dematerialize …

… but he eventually made it to the Commodore, re-forming behind the rear service entrance’s Dumpster. Stepping out from it, the deliverymen who were unloading commercial cleaning supplies into the holding area ignored him, and so did the bike messenger who was streaking down the back alley.

But there were plenty of people waiting for him up on the eighteenth floor.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he cursed under his breath.

iAm was leaning up against the closed door, all casual except for the murder in his eyes. And with him? The whores Trez had arranged for s’Ex.

The queen’s executioner was undoubtedly on the terrace outside. Or prowling around the inner rooms after having broken in, in a rage.

Trez shoved his hands in his pockets—no keys. Fuck.

Did he forget them? Or were they on the floor of Selena’s bedroom?

Goddamn it.

“Missing something?” his brother drawled.

“Hey, boss,” one of the prostitutes said.

“Boss—”

“What’s up—”

The women spoke over themselves as they pumped their extensions and rearranged their bra cups. They were each wearing some version of keep-it-legal, but everything was short and tight and low-cut.

Not that they were going to stay clothed for long.

“Allow me,” iAm muttered, taking out his copper key.

After doing the deed with the lock, he swung the door wide and nodded for the girls to go inside.

As they shimmied in, the male narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking care of business,” Trez hissed back. “The only way I know how.”

Pushing past his brother, he strode into the living room. And just like the wraith he was, the executioner was waiting on the far side of the glass, his black robes wafting in the cold wind.

As the three prostitutes noticed him, they froze, either spellbound or scared shitless. Maybe both.

“Give me a minute, ladies,” Trez said as he went to the sliding doors. “I’ll send him down to you in the bedroom off that hall over there.”

“Yeah, okay, boss,” the one in the front answered.

He waited until they were out of the room before letting s’Ex in. Good thing—the executioner was pissed off, all but tearing the hood from his head.

Jabbing a finger into Trez’s face, he barked, “You be on time in the future. Or our agreement is null and void.”

Just as Trez was about to get all up in the bastard’s face, iAm stepped in. “We had a mandatory engagement for the King. Nothing we could get out of, and nothing that’s going to happen again.”

Black, glittering eyes swung in his brother’s direction. “You make sure of that.”

iAm nodded once, his face deceptively calm: His tell was the twitch in his left eyebrow—shit, Trez was going to hear allllll about this as soon as it was over.

Great. Something else to look forward to.

s’Ex reached up to the black brooch at his throat. Big as a fighter’s fist, it was studded with black stones, the metal twisting in and around itself—and when he removed the thing, all those robes fell to the floor.

Exposing a pedestrian-looking wife beater and a pair of black combat pants.

What was not pedestrian was the rest of him: Every inch of his skin was marked with that white ritual tattooing, his heavily muscled arms and shoulders patterned with the shit. And yet, he could still pass for human.

Good news for the prostitutes.

“In spite of the fact that you’re late,” s’Ex gritted out, “I did you all a favor.”

“So our parents are alive?” Trez said.

“Oh, yeah, that, too. They are losing their quarters, however—at the queen’s request. Last time I checked, your mother was having a nervous breakdown as her jewels were being repossessed.” The executioner smiled slowly. “Her majesty is actually pleased with their suffering. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this all perfectly.”

“What’s the favor?”

“Her majesty is about to be occupied with things that don’t involve you for a little while.”

Trez narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

“About nine months.”

“I’m sorry, what? I don’t get what you’re—”

“She’s pregnant.”

Trez stopped breathing. And then forced his lungs to get back with the program as he shot a glance over at his brother. “How the hell did that happen?”

“Of all people, I’d assume you don’t need a diagram.”

“But I thought her consort died ten years ago?”

“Yeah. Such a shame.” s’Ex cracked his knuckles. “He had a bad fall.”

“So whose is it.”

s’Ex smiled with a sly edge. “It’s a miracle.”

Holy … shit.

s’Ex nodded. “The timing’s good for you because she’s going to have to wait to see if it’s another daughter. At that point, the star charts will have to be read to figure out which will be the next queen. Obviously, if it’s a son? You’re screwed. If not, you might have a shot—after all, you were promised to that particular daughter. If another is to be queen? You’re good.”

iAm exhaled slowly. “This is … pretty fucking great news. Potentially.”

“But you still owe me,” s’Ex growled. “From now going forward? You take care of me … or I’ll take care of you both.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Trez jacked up his slacks, his mind reeling. “Whatever you need.”

“That’s more like it.”

Jesus … this changed everything. Or at least, it could.

A far better outcome than he could have engineered.

As s’Ex’s obsidian stare shifted to the hall the girls had gone down, Trez refocused. “A couple of rules.”

The executioner glanced back. “I don’t hear that.”

Trez stepped in tight, meeting the huge male grille-to-grille. “The rules are this—you do not hurt them. Rough sex is okay if it’s consensual, but no permanent scars or marks. And you may not eat them. Those are my only two constraints, and they are not negotiable.”

With Shadows, you always had to set limits. Especially a Shadow like this one.

“Wait, are they yours?” the male asked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit, why didn’t you just say?” s’Ex put out his palm. “My vow. Nothing permanent and no lunch.”

What a relief, Trez thought as he clasped that hand and gave it a hard shake. “But I’m giving them to you for however long you want them. And the apartment, too, of course. When you want something fresh? You know where to find me.”

As the executioner smiled and went to walk off, Trez snagged a hold on the male’s arm. “One more thing—those are humans. As far as they know, vampires are fiction—and you need to keep it like that if you want this to continue.”

s’Ex looked bored. “Fine. But it would have been more fun the other way.”

As he stalked out of the room, his heavy footfalls echoed down the corridor, and then there were voices. Followed by a door shutting.

Trez went directly to the bar even though it was only just after noon, and picked up a bottle of Maker’s Mark. He didn’t bother with a glass; straight from the bottle was good enough for him.

As the liquor burned its way down to his gut, his only thought was that he should feel more relief than he did. Then again, he wasn’t quite out of the woods yet.

And he’d taken the virtue of a good female about a half hour ago.

No get-out-of-jail-free card was going to change that.

“Nine lives,” iAm said as he came over and put his hand out.

Trez passed the bourbon over. “Not yet—”

The moan that rippled distantly was female in origin. And so was the one that followed.

“He’s going to do all three of them at once,” iAm muttered.

A quick image of the executioner on his back with one female straddling his hips, another riding his face, all while he fingered a third made Trez take the bottle back and drink hard.

Goddamn, Trez thought, he hoped he could stay ahead of that appetite.