Lazarus groaned and rolled to his back. Fuck, his eyes felt gritty and dry, his body on fire, limbs achy. He hadn’t slept more than a few minutes at a time—how could he when he felt Eve just a floor below him? His demon had mentally paced all night, roaring and whimpering, trying to take the driver’s seat and go to her.
He rubbed his hands over his face and jerked back the covers. And then there was this…
He looked down his body and winced. His dick lay against his stomach and was so pumped full of blood it was fucking purple. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard in his life. Christ, his balls throbbed as well. He couldn’t leave his room like this.
Fuuuuck.
The ache intensified, and he groaned again.
Eve had just woken up.
He knew it. Somehow, he just knew it.
The surge of power that came from her had him undulating on the bed, teeth gritted, his damn eyes rolling back in his head. He dropped his hand to his cock, hissing when he wrapped his fingers around it. He felt like molten steel under his fingers. He squeezed tighter as another wave reached him. He spread his legs wider, kicking the covers away. They felt like sandpaper against his skin. One foot hit the floor with a thump, the other dug into the mattress as he stroked his dick hard and fast, desperate for release.
The waves of power kept coming and it kept him right there, hovering between pleasure and pain, grunting and straining, sweating all over his sheets, close to losing his damn mind.
Then another surge came, so damn powerful his spine torqued and a roar tore from his throat. He came in powerful spurts of scalding hot come, splashing his stomach and chest and seemed to go on and on until he was shaking so hard his fucking teeth were chattering.
When he was spent, he collapsed back, gasping for breath.
What the fuck?
Christ, something had caused her power to do that, those intense surges. Was Eve all right?
His mind instantly conjured up all kinds of scenarios, most of them bad. Lazarus quickly cleaned himself off with the sheet and stumbled out of bed on shaky legs, shoving on his clothes.
He was out the door and in the elevator a few minutes later, and banged on her door as soon as he reached it. Her powers had calmed now. Had died down from a raging storm to gentle waves, and the feeling of biting down on exposed electrical wires had dropped to pleasant tingles over his skin.
He reached down and adjusted his dick when he heard her moving toward the door. Not surprising he was hard again. He’d been hard since she came onto his radar.
The click of the lock came next and he stood straighter when the door opened.
Eve stood there looking flushed and disheveled, her eyes wide and glassy, lower lip red and swollen.
“What the fuck just happened?” Lazarus said, pushing his way into her smaller one-room apartment. He strode to the bathroom and shoved the door open. “Has someone been in here? Did they hurt you? Frighten you?”
She didn’t answer and he spun back to her, finally taking in the rest of her. She was wearing a robe, the belt tied tight, enhancing her bountiful curves. His gaze moved back up to her face, the color on her cheeks, the way her lower lip was darker, puffy from biting it, the way her black hair was down and a little wild.
She looked recently fucked.
A growl tore up his throat as he spun to the bed, to its rumpled covers, the pillow knocked to the floor. She’d been with someone? There was no room for anyone under the bed. He strode over and checked the small closet. Empty.
His demon snarled, hating the thought just as much, and reared up, scenting the air. Only one. Eve. Then it hit him, a scent so fucking tantalizing, so intoxicating it almost knocked him on his ass.
Sexual desire.
He spun back to her still by the door, face pink with embarrassment, and he knew.
She’d just come, hard. Just like he had.
Those delicate fingers, currently gripping her robe closed, had been between her thighs, had moved over her slick, hot flesh, bringing her to orgasm at the same time as he had one floor above her. And he’d felt it. Christ, had he felt it.
She cleared her throat. “I…” She swallowed. “I don’t know…there’s nothing…nothing wrong.”
Lazarus’s demon fought harder, so hard he felt the stretch and pull under his skin, with the desire to shift. He needed to get the hell out of there.
“I just, I thought I heard something. I’ll go.” He strode to the door, moving toward her, and another wave of her scent hit him, stronger. She was still turned on. What he wouldn’t give to lay her on that bed and bury his face between her thighs, to taste her, to make her come against his tongue over and over before he finally sank inside her.
“Lazarus?” He jolted and looked down at her. He was right in front of her now, hand poised about to touch her, and he barely remembered taking the final steps to reach her.
“Are you okay?” she asked, a slight rasp to her voice that didn’t help one fucking bit.
His hand shot out and he grabbed the handle, yanking the door open. “Yeah, fine.” Leave before you do something you shouldn’t, before you take her on this floor right damn now.
Before you shift into your demon form and scare the hell out of both of you.
Lazarus strode out of the room, took the elevator to the control room, and yanked off his shirt as soon as he reached the balcony. The equinox was fast approaching—that had to be it, the reason his control was slipping. He needed to get away from here. Now. His wings sprouted from his back, allowing himself to partially shift, and he dove off the side, taking to the skies.
He flew for hours, but no matter how far he went he could still feel her.
What the fuck was he going to do?
“You’re doing great, Eve,” James said, smile encouraging. “Now let’s try again, okay?”
Eve wasn’t so sure. She felt like she sucked at this. They’d been there all afternoon and still she couldn’t block him.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “That’s it. Can you see the door?”
“Yes.” She envisioned a solid wooden door with heavy iron bolts and hinges, one she could close and lock, as his thoughts filtered into her mind. He was reciting the alphabet. Listening to him was so different than when she’d had Eric in her head. She didn’t know if it was a human/demon thing, but James’s thoughts were crisp, focused, not jumbled and scattered. They didn’t make her want to scream, so that was a plus.
“Okay, now I want you to start closing it. I want you to block that doorway and lock it shut. Lock me out, Eve.”
He finished the alphabet and started on something else; she had no idea what it was. She opened her eyes. He had a book open in front of him, and he grinned and flashed her the cover. Science fiction by the looks.
Eve closed her eyes again and shoved the door closed as hard as she could, but something stopped it. She curled her fingers into fists and mentally pushed against it harder. James’s voice continued to fill her head, it dipped in volume several times, cut off for a few seconds, and then she had to let go.
Pain sliced through her head and she gasped.
“Eve, are you all right?”
James got out of his seat and came around, crouching beside her. She nodded, but that made her head hurt more.
“Shit, nosebleed,” James said and rushed to a cupboard across the room.
Blood dripped onto the table where she sat. “I’m sorry.”
He grabbed a box of tissues and put them on the table beside her. “Here, use these, and you have nothing to be sorry for. I pushed you too hard for your first try—”
The door across the room banged shut and she glanced up. Lazarus was striding across the room, a scowl on his face, eyes furious.
“Yeah, you pushed her too hard. She’s fucking bleeding,” he said.
James planted his hands on his hips. “This isn’t unusual, Laz. You’ve seen it yourself—”
“Leave us.”
Eve stood. “Lazarus—”
“I said go,” he said to James.
James muttered something under his breath, offered her a reassuring smile, and strode from the room.
Eve shook her head. “He wasn’t wrong.”
Lazarus was in front of her, staring at her like he expected her to fall to pieces in front of him. “About what?” he grunted.
“You really are surly.”
One of his brows lifted. “You haven’t seen surly, female.”
The look in his eyes, the way the bright green had darkened, made her belly warm. Then she remembered earlier that morning, and what he’d almost walked in on. Her face heated and his eyes flared like he was the one who could read minds.
She quickly looked away and the sudden movement had her clutching her head.
He cursed and scooped her up, lifting her off her feet like she was weightless, which she was not.
“What are you doing?” she said, feeling even more embarrassed.
“Taking you somewhere you can rest.”
“I don’t need to be carried.”
He ignored her and strode out the door and down the hall. Eve didn’t know what to do with her hands and in the end, rested one on his shoulder. The heat of his skin seeped through his shirt. God, he was hot. And his heart pounded against her, faster than what was normal. But then, maybe that was a demon thing as well?
She was so focused on every move, every shift of his muscles, the places their bodies touched, she hadn’t noticed when the elevator opened that it wasn’t on her floor, not until he shoved a door open and strode into what was obviously his apartment.
He put her on the couch and stepped back as if she’d shocked him then paced away and shook out his hands, like he had in the car the day before right after he’d touched her.
He stopped suddenly and turned to her, looking edgy as hell. “Drink?”
The question threw her. “Um…sure.”
He strode to the small kitchen off to the side, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a couple of kitchen towels he’d dampened under the tap, and came back.
“Here.”
“Thanks.” She took the water from him and used the towels to clean up while he watched her, again from a distance.
“I’m fine, if you’d rather I leave,” she said.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
The way he said that was so low she was surprised the ground didn’t shake. “Is there a reason—”
“Are you still in pain?” he asked, talking right over her.
“It’s almost completely gone.”
“Good, that’s…good.” He stood, solid thighs braced apart, hands at his sides, fingers curled into fists. He was anything but relaxed. Everything he said was at odds with his body language. “Hungry?”
“No,” she said at the same time as her stomach rumbled so loudly there was no way he’d missed it. Cue more blushing. She’d been so nervous about her first training session she’d skipped lunch.
He frowned. “You’re hungry. Why did you lie?”
Eve’s mouth opened, but she didn’t know what to say.
“I frighten you,” he said. “You want to leave.”
Yes, she wanted to leave, but not because Lazarus frightened her. He overwhelmed her, though, in a whole lot of different ways. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Right,” he muttered and walked to the phone, punching in a couple of numbers. She listened while he asked for food to be brought up. When he turned back, she didn’t miss the change in his posture, the way he rolled his shoulders and unclenched his jaw as if forcing himself to relax.
He watched her for several long seconds, then said, “Will you eat with me?” He rubbed the back of his neck and his huge biceps bulged. “I know we got off to a rocky start, and the way I’ve been acting…” He cleared his throat. “Will you eat with me?” he asked again.
Eve had no idea what was going on, or what this was about, but he was making an effort, for whatever reason, and she couldn’t bring herself to say no when self-preservation told her to do just that.
For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. There was this draw, this pull to him she didn’t understand, and it was messing with her, big time.
Like the way you got yourself off thinking about him this morning.
Yes, thank God it wasn’t Lazarus who could read minds.