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"We're going to use both prime squadrons."

"You're taking all of us off-line for two nights?"

"And days. We'll sleep in shifts at the site."

"Fine." U looked back down at the thing in his hand, fingering a little wheel on the right side of it. "Oh... shit. Mr. X is not going to like this."

O narrowed his eyes. "Oh, yeah?"

"It's a blast e-mail to the Beta squadrons. I'm still on the list, I guess."

"And?"

"A bunch of Betas were hunting last night and ran into one of the Brotherhood in the park. Of the five of them, three are unaccounted for. Get this, the warrior was with a human female."

"Sometimes they have sex with them."

"Yeah. Lucky bastards."

Mary stood over the stove thinking of the way Rhage had just looked at her. She couldn't figure out why offering to cook him breakfast was such a big deal, but he'd acted as if she'd given him a tremendous gift.

She flipped the omelet over and headed for the refrigerator. Taking out a plastic container of cut fruit, she spooned all there was into a bowl. It didn't look like enough, so she grabbed a banana and sliced it on top.

As she put the knife down, she touched her lips. There had been nothing sexual about the kiss he'd given her behind the couch; it had been all about gratitude. And the mouth-on-mouth action in the park had been deeper, but the distance on his side was the same. The passion had been one-sided. Hers.

Did vampires even sleep with humans? Maybe that was why he held back, instead of it being some kind of power play.

Except what about the hostess at TGI Friday's? He'd definitely sized that woman up, and not because he'd wanted to buy her a dress. So clearly his kind had no problem being with another species. What he had no interest in was being with her.

Friends. Just friends.

When the omelet was finished and the toast buttered, she rolled a fork up in a napkin, tucked the twist under her elbow, and took the plate and the bowl into the living room. She quickly shut the door behind her and turned to the couch.

Whoa.

Rhage had taken his shirt off and was leaning back against the wall, inspecting his burns. In the glow of candlelight, she got a serious look at his heavy shoulders, his powerful arms, his chest. His stomach. The skin over all that muscle he was carrying was golden, hairless.

Trying to keep it together, she put what she was carrying on the floor next to him and sat down a few feet over. To stop herself from staring at his body, she glanced at his face. He was looking down at the food, not moving, not speaking.

"I wasn't sure what you liked," she said.

His eyes flipped up to hers and he shifted so he was facing her. The frontal view was even more spectacular than the profile. His shoulders were broad enough to fill the space between the couch and the wall. And the star-shaped scar over his left pectoral was sexy as hell, like some kind of brand on his skin.

After a good beat or two of him just staring at her, she reached for the plate. "I'll get you something else - "

His hand shot out and gripped her wrist. He stroked her skin with his thumb. "I love it."

"You haven't tasted the - "

"You made it. That's enough." He picked the fork out of the napkin, the muscles and tendons in his forearm working. "Mary?"

"Hm?"

"I would feed you now." As he spoke, his stomach let out a howl.

"That's okay. I'll get something for myself... Ah, why are you frowning like that?"

He rubbed his eyebrows, as if ironing out his expression. "Sorry. You couldn't know."

"Know what?"

"Where I come from, when a male offers to feed a female from his hand, it is a way of showing respect. Respect and... affection."

"But you're hungry."

He brought the plate a little closer and tore off a corner of the toast. Then he cut a perfect square out of the omelet and placed it on top.

"Mary, eat from my hand. Take from me."

He leaned forward, extending his long arm. His teal eyes were hypnotic, calling her, pulling her forward, opening her mouth. As she put her lips around the food she had cooked for him, he growled in approval. And after she swallowed, he came toward her again, another piece of toast suspended between his fingertips.

"Shouldn't you have something?" she said.

"Not until you are full."

"What if I eat it all?"

"Nothing would please me more than to know you are well fed."

Friends, she told herself. Just friends.

"Mary, eat for me." His insistence had her opening her mouth again. His eyes stayed on her lips after she'd closed them.

Jesus. This didn't feel like friends.

As she chewed, Rhage picked through the bowl of fruit with his fingertip. He finally chose a slice of cantaloupe and held it out to her. She took the piece whole, a little juice escaping down the side of her mouth. She reached up with the back of her hand, but he stopped her, lifting the napkin, brushing it over her skin.

"I'm finished."

"No, you're not. I can feel your hunger." This time half a strawberry came toward her. "Open for me, Mary."

He fed her choice morsels, watching her with a primordial satisfaction that was unlike anything she'd seen before.

When she couldn't take another bite, he made quick work of what was left, and the moment he was done she picked up the plate and headed to the kitchen. She made him another omelet, filled a bowl full of cereal, and gave him the last of her bananas.

His smile was radiant as she laid it all out in front of him. "How you honor me with this."

As he ate in that methodical, tidy way of his, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. She was getting tired more and more easily and felt a stab of cold terror because now she knew why. God, she dreaded finding out what the doctors were going to do to her after all the tests were in.

When she opened her eyes, Rhage's face was right in front of hers.

She jerked back, banging against the wall. "I, ah, I didn't even hear you move."

Crouched on all fours like an animal about to spring, he had one arm on either side of her legs, his massive shoulders bunched up from bearing the weight of his torso. This close, he was huge. And showing a lot of skin. And smelling really good, like dark spices.

"Mary, I would thank you, if you would let me."

"How?" she croaked.

He tilted his head to the side and put his lips on hers. As she gasped, his tongue penetrated her mouth and stroked her own. When he shifted back to assess her reaction, his eyes glowed with the promise of ecstasy, the kind that would boil her bone marrow.

She cleared her throat, "You're... welcome."

"I would do that again, Mary. Will you let me?"

"A simple thank-you is fine. Really, I - "

His lips cut her off and then his tongue took over again, invading, taking, caressing. As heat roared in her body, Mary gave up the fight and savored the mad lust, the pounding in her chest, the aching at her br**sts and between her legs.

Oh, God. It had been so long. And it had never been like this.

Rhage let out a low purr, as if he'd sensed her arousal. She felt his tongue retract, and then he took her lower lip between his -

Fangs. Those were fangs nipping at her flesh.

Fear threaded through her passion and thickened it, adding a dangerous edge that opened her even further. She put her hands on his arms. God, he was so hard, so strong. He'd be so heavy on top of her.

"Will you let me lay with you?" he asked.

Mary closed her eyes, imagining them going beyond the kissing to a place where they'd be naked together. She hadn't been with a man since well before her illness. And a lot about her body had changed since then.

She also didn't know where his desire to be with her was coming from. Friends didn't have sex. Not in her book, anyway.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure - "

Rhage's mouth fit over hers again briefly. "I just want to lie down next to you. Okay?"

Literal translation... right. Except as she stared at him, she couldn't ignore the differences between them. She was breathless. He was calm. She was dizzy. He was clearsighted.

She was hot. He was... not.

Abruptly Rhage sat back against the wall and pulled the blanket that hung off the couch into his lap. She wondered for a split second if he was hiding an erection.

Yeah, right. More likely he was cold because he was half-naked.

"Did you suddenly remember what I am?" he asked.


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy