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"No, I want a drink."
He looked up over the icebox door. "All... right. We have Scotch and vodka."
"I'll try the vodka."
As he poured her some Grey Goose over ice, he watched her walk around. She checked out V's computers. The Foosball table. The plasma screen TV.
He went over to her. He wanted her in his arms; he gave her the glass.
She put it to her mouth, tilted her head back, took a long one... and coughed until her eyes watered. While she choked, he maneuvered her onto the couch and sat down next to her.
"Marissa - "
"Shut up."
Okaaay. He clasped his hands together as she struggled with the Goose. After she got down about half an inch, she put the stuff on the coffee table with a grimace.
She tackled him so fast, Butch never saw it coming. One second he was staring at his tightly laced fingers. The next, he was pressed into the sofa and she was straddling him and... oh, God, her tongue was in his mouth.
She felt so damned good, but the vibe was all wrong. The desperation and the anger and the fear just weren't appropriate background music. They were going to end up further apart if they kept going.
He held her back from him, even though his c**k screamed in protest. "Marissa - "
"I want to have sex."
He closed his eyes. Christ, so did he. All night long. Except not like this.
He took a deep breath, trying to frame the words right... and when he opened his lids, she'd pulled off her turtleneck and was working the clasp of a black bra that totally knocked him out.
His hands tightened on her waist as those satin cups came off her and her ni**les tightened in the chill. He leaned forward, ready to put his lips to the first piece of her he hit, when he stopped. He was not going to take her like this. The air was too hard between them.
He stopped her hands as they went to his pants. "Marissa... no."
"Don't say that."
He sat up, putting her back from his body. "I love you."
"Then don't stop me."
He shook his head. "I won't do this. Not as we are now."
She stared at him in disbelief. Then snatched her wrists out of his hold and turned her head from him.
"Marissa - "
She shrugged off his hands, batting them away. "I can't believe this. Our one night together and you say no."
"Let me... Christ... let me hold you. Come on, Marissa."
She rubbed her eyes. Laughed in a tragic little burst. "I am destined to go to my grave a virgin, aren't I? Sure, technically I'm not, but - "
"I didn't say I wouldn't be with you." She glanced over at him, tears glimmering on her lashes. "I just... Not with the anger. It'll pollute the whole thing. I want it to be... special."
So what if that line was right out of a high school playbook. It was the truth.
"Baby, why don't we just go into my bedroom and lie down in the dark." He handed her back the turtleneck and she put the thing to her br**sts. "If we end up doing nothing but staring at the ceiling all night long, at least we'll be together. And if something happens? It won't be about pissed off and frustrated. Okay?"
She wiped off the two tears that had fallen. Pulled her shirt on over her head. Looked at the vodka she'd tried to drink.
He got to his feet and offered her his hand. "Come back with me."
After a long moment, her palm met his and he pulled her up and took her down to his bedroom. When he shut the door, everything went pitch-black, so he clicked on the little lamp on the dresser. The low-watt bulb glowed like embers in a fireplace.
"Come here." He drew her over to the bed, laid her down, and eased himself next to her so he was on his side and she on her back.
As he smoothed some of her hair out on the pillow, she closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. Gradually, the tension loosened in her body.
"You're right. That wouldn't have gone well."
"It isn't because I don't want you." As he kissed her on the shoulder, she turned her face to his hand and pressed her lips to his palm.
"Are you scared?" she said. "About what'll happen to you tomorrow?"
"No." The only thing he worried about was her. He didn't want her to watch him die. Prayed it wouldn't come to that.
"Butch... about your human family. Do you want them to be told if you - "
"Nope, there's no need to tell them anything. And don't talk like that. I'll be fine." Please, God, let her not have to see him pass.
"But won't they care?" When he shook his head, her expression grew sad. "You should be mourned by your blood."
"I will be. By the Brotherhood." As her eyes watered, he kissed her. "And no more about mourning. That's not part of the plan. Forget about it."
"I - "
"Shh. We're not going there. You and me are staying right here."
He lay his head down next to hers and continued running his hands through her beautiful blond hair. When her breathing grew deep and even, he shuffled a little closer, tucked her against his bare chest, and shut his eyes.
He must have fallen asleep as well, because a little later he woke up. In the best possible way.
He was kissing her throat and his hand was moving up her side, heading for her breast. He'd thrown a leg over both of hers, and his erection was pushed up against her hip. With a curse, he backed off, but she followed, staying with him until she was half on top of him.
Her eyes flipped open. "Oh..."
He swept his hands up to her face and pushed her hair back. Their eyes met.
Lifting his head off the pillow, he kissed her softly on the mouth. Once. Twice. And... again.
"Is... something happening?" she whispered.
"Yeah. I think something's happening."
He drew her back into a kiss, then entered her with his tongue, stroking against hers. As he kept at it, their bodies began to move together, mimicking the sex act, his hips advancing and retreating, hers absorbing him, rubbing against him.
There was no rush and he took it slowly, undressing her with care. When she was naked, he eased back and looked at her body.
Oh... God. All that soft female skin. Her perfect br**sts with their ni**les straining. Her secrets. And her face was the best of all: It showed no fear, just erotic anticipation.
Which meant he was going to finish this between them. If there had been a lick of doubt in her eyes, he would have just pleasured her and left it at that. But she wanted the same thing he did, and he was certain there would be no pain for her this time.
Butch stood up and slipped off his loafers, the Guccis making a thunking sound one by one. She watched with wide eyes as his hands went to the waistband of his slacks and he popped the button, then unzipped. Boxers hit the floor with the pants and his erection shot straight out from his body. He covered himself with his hand, folding his c**k against his belly, not wanting her to get unnerved.
As he lay down, she rolled into him.
"Oh, God," he breathed as their skin met.
"You're so very naked," she whispered against his shoulder.
He smiled into her hair. "So are you."
She ran her hands up and down his sides, and he felt the heat in him go nuclear, especially as she slipped one arm between their bodies and her palm headed south. When she hit his lower belly, his erection pulsed with the desperate need to be touched, to be stroked, to be squeezed until it exploded.
But he captured her wrist and withdrew her hand. "Marissa, I want you to do something for me."
"What?"
"Let me see you through this, okay? Let's have this time be all about you."
Before she could protest, he covered her mouth with his own.
Butch treated her with such exquisite care, Marissa thought. And with total restraint. Every touch was soft and gentle, every kiss was easy, unhurried. Even when his tongue was in her mouth and his hand was between her legs and she was going wild from the way he went after her, he was in control of himself.
So when he rolled over onto her and his thigh parted hers, she didn't flinch or hesitate. Her body was ready to take him inside. She knew it by the slippery feel of his fingers when he'd touched her. Knew it from her hunger for his sex, too.
He settled his weight on her comfortably and that gloriously hard part of him burned her core as it brushed against her. With a shift, his shoulders bunched up and he put his-hand down between their bodies. The head of him found the doorway to her.
Butch propped himself up on his thick arms and stared down into her eyes as he started with that light rocking motion she remembered from before. She deliberately relaxed herself, trying to get as loose as possible even as she became a little nervous.
