Lover Reborn

SIXTY

Xhex needed intel. Stat.

When Xcor had dematerialized away from her, he’d gone outside the scope of her radar within seconds. And yeah, she had a bead on his direction, but only an asshole wouldn’t camo the way to his hideout.

Sure enough, as she followed what she could of him, she found herself stuck on the shores of the Hudson not far from her house: The trail got cold at that point, and not because the frigid north wind was blowing down the river.

She kicked a random snowdrift and paced around. Retraced her steps back to the theater district. Scanned the rest of the city, going rooftop to rooftop.

Nothing.

She ended up back on top of that building where she’d seen John and the others, stalking around and cursing like a sailor. In the absence of physical clues, she was forced to go with the only other thing she had: the drama outside that dessert place.

Taking out her phone, she texted John and waited. And waited. And… waited.

Did they get ambushed on the way back?

She texted again. Hit up Qhuinn—and got no reply.

Damn it, what if something had happened? Just because Xcor had appeared to leave the city, that didn’t mean he couldn’t cycle around and intersect iAm’s SUV. Meanwhile, she was here chasing her tail like an idiot—

Just as she was about to start another round of near-panicked texting, John hit her back: @ hm safe. Srry wz dwn in clinic.

Dialing back on her chick-out, she took a deep breath and texted back: We need to talk about Layla. Let me come to the house.

It was possible that Qhuinn wouldn’t want to leave the Chosen in her condition, and Xhex didn’t want John to drag his ahstrux nohtrum out just for a meeting.

Instead of waiting for a response, she flashed herself over to the mansion and strode up the steps and into the vestibule. The inner door opened immediately, and Fritz appeared frazzled.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“What’s wrong?”

The butler bowed and shuffled backward. “Oh, indeed. Yes. Whom are you here to see?”

There was a time when that wouldn’t have been a question. “John. Is he at the clinic?”

“Oh… no. No, definitely not there. He is upstairs.”

Xhex frowned. “Is there any problem?”

“Oh, no. Please, madam, go forth.”

Bullshit there wasn’t something going on. She crossed the mosaic apple tree at a jog and took the stairs two at a time. When she got to the second floor, she hesitated.

Even out in the hall, she could catch the scent of sex—a mixed bag of it, actually, suggesting there were multiples going on. Literally.

And didn’t that make her feel like throwing up.

As she approached John’s door, she braced herself for whatever could be on the other side. Layla was trained as an ehros, and Qhuinn had long been up for anything—and maybe this separation had led her mate into the arms of others.

With a dead heart, she knocked loudly. “John? It’s me.”

Closing her eyes, she imagined naked bodies freezing, people looking back and forth, John scrambling to get something to cover himself. There was no reading grids—she was too scattered to pull that off. No sorting through the scents, either—she was having enough trouble staying on her feet because she knew at least one of them was John’s.

“I know you’re in there.”

Instead of the door opening, she got a text on her phone: Am soz—busy. Can I cm find u l8r?

Fuck that and the horse it rode in on.

Xhex grabbed the doorknob, twisted hard enough to break the thing off, and shoved her way—

Holy. Shit.

John was by himself on his bed, lying on top of twisted sheets, his naked body gleaming in the light that bled in from the bathroom. One hand was between his legs, his big fist locked on his thick cock… the other was gripping the headboard for leverage as he worked himself, his teeth bared, the muscles in his shoulders and neck standing out in stark relief as he strained.

Shiiiiit. His lower abdomen was slick from other orgasms, and yet he seemed starved for release.

Fevered eyes met hers as his hand stilled. Go, he mouthed. Please…

She quickly stepped inside and shut the door. This was not something anyone else needed to see.

Please! he demanded.

Please, indeed, she thought to herself, her own body responding, her own blood starting to pump.

Stepping over the crumpled discards of what he’d been wearing in the theater district, she could think only about how much she had missed the carnal side of him. It was as if she had been shut down during these long months—and yeah, it would have been far better for her to walk out, let him deal with his rock-and-a-hard-place by his lonesome, and reconvene later.

But, God, she had missed being his female.

I can’t stop, he mouthed. Autumn in her needing—got too close.

Ah. That explained it. Except… “Is my mother okay?”

At Jane’s, and yes.

God, that poor female. To have to suffer through that again after all she’d been through. But at least Jane would ease the suffering—assuming Tohr didn’t.…

Right, she was so not getting close to that one.

Xhex, you have… to go.…

“What if I don’t want to.”

At that, his body undulated wildly, sure as if she were already touching him, and he orgasmed hard, his grip slipping up and down as he came all over the muscled expanse of his lower belly.

Well, wasn’t that a very well-spoken answer: He wanted her, too.

Xhex stepped up to the edge of the bed and reached out, brushing his churning thigh with her fingertips. The light contact was enough to keep his release going, his hips thrusting up, his sex kicking, his warrior body contracting as the pleasure rocked through him.

Bending down, she shoved his pumping hand aside and captured him with her mouth, sucking him off, finishing him the right way as he thrashed in the sheets. And as soon as he was done, at least with that particular release, he stilled for only a nanosecond before sitting up and reaching for her.

She went to him with ease, kissing him as he pulled her on top of his body. His hands, those big, familiar hands, roamed everywhere… until they settled on her ass, and jacked her upward so he could nestle his face into her breasts—

With a quick slash of his fangs, he bit through her muscle shirt, and latched onto her nipple, sucking, and licking as she helped him out, pulling her jacket off, ditching her weapons, and—

John flipped her over onto her back and snarled soundlessly at her leathers.

Things didn’t go well for them—which, considering how tough cowhide was, said something about all the get-naked that was happening. At least he knew better than to mess with her cilices, though.

As soon as they were in position, he pushed into her with a jab, and the sting of the stretch was enough to throw her right into a bone-bending orgasm. He followed, joining her, their bodies working each other while she