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God, I needed to fuck.
“Ohmigod.” Eyes wide, she reached out, not touching, pointing to my wrist where the stitching lurked. She stared at my upper arm. “The stitching is running into your veins.”
On the surface, where veins snaked up my arm to my biceps, a lava red surged in perfect timing with my heartbeat.
“Veins don’t flow like that.”
I read her lips, the sound lost because the lust, the lust wasglowing.
CHAPTER15
Val
A tidal roarswept into my blood. My muscles flexed and tensed with the residual fight as I soared high on aggression.
I needed to control.
I needed to conquer.
I needed to shove my cock far enough into Zara that the two of us became one panting, sweating animal.
Fight or fuck.
With a shake of my head, I stumbled back.
I needed space.
“Val?”
Did she know she had an edge to her voice? That feminine lilt, that high pitch that sounded like fucking music in a scream.
“Val, how badly are you hurt?”
I needed space.
“Just a scratch.” I strode upslope across the tree roots toward my car—as if that would give me time to clear my head. As if that would give me time to control the coming tsunami.
I could hear the fall of her footsteps as she followed me.
Sense the lust as it stalked the both of us.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to block out the cravings.
Fuck.
FUCK INDEED.
The son of a bitch was back.
Using more force than needed, I popped my trunk. The cut on my hand had stopped sizzling, but I still wanted to disinfect it, and I needed to change. I yanked my ripped shirt over my head, the untreated gash catching my attention. For a moment all I could do was stare at the wound.
Blackness showed where the knife had scored the length of one metacarpal. I knew my anatomy; I’d done my time in a serious crimes unit. I was looking at exposed bone.
How was it not hurting like hell?
How was I still using it?
Most gnawing question of all—why had my bone turned black?
