There was a pin-drop pause of silence. And then V spoke up. “Who wants to leave right now?”
Everyone jacked their dagger hands up on a oner.
Lassiter looked around with the kind of surprise that indicated self-awareness was not in his personality inventory. Then again, the costume proved that as well.
“You guys can all bite me,” the angel muttered as he turned on his heel and headed out of the study. “For real.”
Down in the clinic, Qhuinn turned his head on a pillow that was cushy as a piece of toast. Right next to him, sitting on a chair that had been pulled up tight to the bedside, Blay was looking at his phone, reading something that had just come through. The overhead light had been turned down, and in the low glow, the male’s red hair was all copper and shine.
That fresh fade V had given him was super tight on the bottom, making his jaw look extra strong, and the flop over his forehead was the kind of thing a male wanted to run his fingers through.
Then again, there wasn’t much that Qhuinn didn’t want to touch when it came to his mate.
“What is it?” he asked.
Everyone had pulled out of the OR, Layla with the kids, and Manny and Ehlena after they’d unplugged all the machines from him. The training center was likewise quiet, no more voices off in the distance, no footfalls, no muffled grunts from people working out in the weight room or the big gym. It must be getting close to Last Meal, or maybe Wrath had called a meeting.
“Tomorrow night’s schedule,” Blay said with a frown.
“Where am I going?”
Blay looked up, all serious. Which naturally was sexy as fuck. “Nowhere. You’re redshirted for injury for forty-eight hours. You know the rules.”
“I was hoping they forgot. Are you on?”
“No one’s on.” Blay turned the Samsung around. “Schedule’s empty.”
“What the hell happened?”
Blay started texting. “I’m going to find out.”
Qhuinn waited patiently, and when the tippytapping ended, he snagged the unit and put it face-down on the bedside table. “Hi.”
Blay glanced at the phone. “Hi?”
“Come here.” To give the guy some guidance, he reached out and took a hold of the front of his mate’s shirt to pull him in. “Hi.”
Their lips met briefly, and when Blay went to ease back, Qhuinn tightened his grip on that shirt.
“Mmmm,” he said as he got more of that mouth.
Things were going in absolutely the right direction as he licked his way into his male, his tongue sneaking in, taking and giving, stroking—
“Fuck,” he hissed. And not in a good way.
With a groan, he flopped onto his back again and put a hand over the gauze and packing tape that was on his belly. The weight of his palm alone was enough to further aggravate the sharp-shooter, so he let his arm slide to the side. Besides, like touching the sutures was going to help?
“Let’s hold off,” Blay said reasonably. As he rearranged himself inside his slacks.
“No.” Qhuinn tugged on that shirt again. “Gimme. You promised.”
“I did not.” Blay started to smile in a half-lidded way. “I did no such thing.”
“Fine, the promise was implied. By your erection.” Tug. Tug. Tug. “I locked the door. And no one’s down here.”
“Qhuinn, you can’t even get on your side—”
The gasp that cut off all that being-logical was so damned gratifying. And exactly what Qhuinn had been going for as he’d transferred his hand from the buttons on that fine, pressed dress shirt to a rather tented region south of the waistband of those fine, pressed slacks.
Right onto the hard length of Blay’s arousal, actually.
“I told you before,” Qhuinn murmured as he ran his pierced tongue over his upper lip. “I don’t have to move much. You can do the active part. I’ll just open my mouth.”
“Qhuinn . . .”
Okay, that was a yes. That tone, with its pleading lilt, was a total, fucking, red-hot yes.
“All you have to do is put it in. Then pull it out. After that, you push it in deeper, to the back of my throat. And out again. You do the work. I’ll just suck on you. Lick on you. Make you come in my—”
The groan that Blay let out was so long, so tortured, so hungry that it made Qhuinn’s hips jerk of their own volition.
“That’s right,” he said as he lowered his lids. “Let me see you unzip and take it out.”
Blay looked to the door. “We’re locked in?”
“Absolutely.”
Now, all things considered, Qhuinn had no problem having sex in front of an audience. Then again, when you were good at something, showing off was hardly a character flaw. His lover didn’t feel the same way, though, and Blay’s need for privacy was something that was always respected.
And hey, the truth was, Qhuinn liked the fact that his male only shared that side of himself with the one who loved him most in the world.
“Let me see it,” Qhuinn prompted as Blay stood up from the chair. “I want to see it . . .”
Blay’s hands trembled as they went to the belt, to the button, to the zipper at the front of those slacks. Fumble, fumble . . . then the two halves were yanked wide.
The enormous erection that burst out was exactly what Qhuinn was looking for.
“Commando,” he moaned with approval. “It’s meant to be.”
As his mate’s dagger hand encircled the thick shaft, Qhuinn did some groaning of his own. Except then Blay took a sharp step back.
Cue the sound of a needle scratching over an LP.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Blay asked. “I mean, what if something bursts open and—”
“The only thing bursting is going to be you, lover mine—”
“Qhuinn. I’m serious.”
“So am I.” When Blay stayed where he was—way out of hands-on range, much less tongue-piercing reach—Qhuinn tried to level his stare and pretend he wouldn’t say absolutely anything to get what he wanted. “They weren’t even going to make me take a wheelchair back. I’m allowed to walk on my own. And I already feel soooo much better.”
“You can’t roll onto your side.”
“That’s my hips, not my head. And besides, your pelvis is going to do the work, not mine.”
It was probably unfair to flick his piercing around, but what was that saying? All’s fair in love and blow jobs?
Okay, fine. That wasn’t the saying.
“Please,” he said. “And I promise I’ll tell you if anything hurts.”
There was a pause. And then Blay stroked his cock.
“Good,” Qhuinn said with a smile.
“I haven’t said yes.”
“Yeah, you have. You’re pumping yourself off.”
Blay looked down as if he’d had no clue what his palm was doing. “Traitor,” he muttered.
“Are you talking to your hand right now?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Just give me my medicine, Blay. You’re not going to hurt me.”
Worried blue eyes stared over. “I couldn’t bear that.”
“I know. It’s one of the many reasons I trust you.”