Better would be good. Because if she felt a little less like she’d been run over by a truck, she could jump on Dr. Hottie.
The very fact that she wanted to jump Dr. Hottie told her more about the state of her head trauma than anything else, but what the hell. The pretty nurse had just injected her with something that totally rocked, and if she wanted to think about boinking a bronzed, tattooed, impossibly handsome doctor who was so far out of her league she needed a telescope to see him, then screw it.
Screw him. Over and over.
“I’ll bet you could make a woman throw out all her toys.” Had she said that out loud? The cocky grin on his face told her that yes, she’d verbalized her runaway thoughts. “Drugs talking. Don’t get excited.”
“Paige, push another milligram,” he said, in his rich, smooth doctor voice.
A warm, burning sensation washed through her veins from the IV line in the back of her hand. “Mmm, trying to get rid of me, huh?”
“That’s already been discussed.”
Damn, this guy was saying some weird shit. Not that it mattered. Her eyes wouldn’t open anymore, and her body wouldn’t work. Only her ears still seemed to function, and as she drifted off, she heard one last thing.
“Wraith, I already told you. You can’t kill her.”
Aww. Her hot doctor was protecting her. She’d have smiled if her face hadn’t frozen. And clearly, her hearing had gone, too, because he couldn’t have tacked on what she thought he tacked on.
“Yet.”
Two
Someone was having sex nearby. Eidolon could feel it. Smell it. The ability was part of his breed’s gift; any Seminus demon within thirty yards would sense the same thing. As he walked, the scent of arousal grew stronger, making his body tighten and his balls throb. At any given time someone was screwing in the hospital—usually Wraith—but this time he scented only a female.
Normally, such arousal was a beacon for any incubus, but Eidolon had always fought the urge to seek out the horny female and take advantage of her lust. At least, he had resisted the urge until a few months ago, when he’d entered his hundredth year and had begun The Change. Resistance had grown increasingly hard and painful. As his dick was at this moment.
Dammit, Wraith or Shade had better find the female and satisfy her cravings before they became too much of a distraction—or temptation—for him.
He moved swiftly through the dim corridors, nodding greetings to passing staff members, and as he approached the slayer’s room, the scent of arousal became almost overwhelming. A low, drawn-out moan forced him to bite back his own sound of need.
Muttering obscenities, he brushed past the two imps stationed outside her chamber and armed with enough sedatives to bring down a Gargantua demon, and entered.
Tayla lay on the hospital bed, fists clenched, her chest heaving with her panting breaths. His own breath froze as she cried out and tilted her hips as though taking some imaginary lover inside her.
Standing at the foot of the bed, his brother smirked. Eidolon should have known.
“Get out of her head, Wraith.”
“You’re just jealous because you don’t have this power.”
Eidolon inhaled deeply and prayed to the Two Gods for patience. Wraith’s mercurial moods made it difficult to deal with him in any circumstance, but throw any of his primal instincts—sex, violence, blood-hunger—into the mix, and Wraith went from difficult to impossible.
“Wraith . . .”
“Chill, eldest male sibling. She kills our kind. I’m seeing how she feels about screwing us.” He shot Eidolon a sideways glance. “Screwing you, anyway. I’m a little more selective about my partners than you are, so I’m feeding her your images.”
Eidolon almost laughed. The words “Wraith” and “selective” canceled each other out. Both Shade and Eidolon preferred humanoid sex partners, though his preferences would soon change. But with the exception of humans and vampires, Wraith would nail anything that breathed. Though even that seemed to be optional.
Tayla’s head thrashed back and forth, and suddenly he pictured her under him, doing the same as he pounded into her. He’d tangle his hands in fistfuls of her fiery hair and fuck her until she climaxed so hard she’d beg him to stop, and then he’d make her come again just to show her he could. His cock twitched, and he ground his teeth because this line of thinking was one that could only lead to No Way In Hell.
“Knock it off,” he growled, knowing his brother would catch the scent of his own arousal if this didn’t stop. “She’ll tear her stitches.”