“Okay, okay.” The one who seemed the most normal came forward. “Back off, Rhage. Hey, come on. Let's relax.”
It took a minute before the model let go.
“That's right. We're cool,” Mr. Normal muttered, clapping his buddy on the back before looking at Butch. “Do yourself a favor and shut the hell up.”
Butch shrugged. “Blondie's dying to get his hands on me. I can't help it.”
The guy launched back at Butch, and Mr. Normal rolled his eyes, letting his friend go this time.
The fist that came sailing at jaw level snapped Butch's head to one side. As the pain hit, Butch let his own rage fly. The fear for Beth, the pent-up hatred of these lowlifes, the frustration about his job, all of it came out of him. He tackled the bigger man, taking him down onto the floor.
The guy was momentarily surprised, as if he hadn't expected Butch's speed or strength, and Butch took advantage of the hesitation. He clocked Blondie in the mouth as payback and then grabbed the guy's throat.
One second later, Butch was flat on his back with the man sitting on his chest like a parked car.
The guy took Butch's face into his hand and squeezed, crunching the features together. It was nearly impossible to breathe, and Butch panted shallowly.
“Maybe I'll find your wife,” the guy said, “and do her a couple of times. How's that sound?”
“Don't have one.”
“Then I'm coming after your girlfriend.”
Butch dragged in some air. “Got no woman.”
“So if the chicks won't do you, what makes you think I'd want to?”
“Was hoping to piss you off.”
Stunning electric-blue eyes narrowed.
They had to be contacts, Butch thought. No one really had peepers that color.
“Now why'd you want to do that?” Blondie asked.
“If I attacked first”âButch hauled more breath into his lungsâ“your boys wouldn't have let us fight. Would've killed me first. Before I had a chance at you.”
Blondie loosened his grip a little and laughed as he stripped Butch of his wallet, keys, and cell phone.
“You know, I kind of like this big dummy,” the guy drawled.
Someone cleared a throat. Rather officiously.
Blondie leaped to his feet, and Butch rolled over, gasping. When he looked up, he was convinced he was hallucinating.
Standing in the hall was a little old man dressed in livery. Holding a silver tray. “Pardon me, gentlemen. Dinner will be served in about fifteen minutes.”
“Hey, are those the spinach crepes I like so much?” Blondie said, going for the tray.
“Yes, Sire.”
“Hot damn.”
The other men clustered around the butler, taking what he offered. Along with cocktail napkins. Like they didn't want to drop anything on the floor.
What the hell was this?
“Might I ask a favor?” the butler said.
Mr. Normal nodded with vigor. “Bring out another tray of these and we'll kill anything you want for you.”
Yeah, guess the guy wasn't really normal. Just relatively so.
The butler smiled as if touched. “If you're going to bloody the human, would you be good enough to do it in the backyard?”
“No problem.” Mr. Normal popped another crepe in his mouth. “Damn, Rhage, you're right. These are awesome.
”
pp. 258-260
“So what'd you do to the
lesser?”
a male voice said.
“I lit his cigarette with a sawed-off,” another one answered. “He didn't come down for breakfast, you feel me?”
p. 283
“Tohr, relax. I'm a female, I cry at matings. It's in the job description.”
p. 329
“Hopefully, you won't have to. Now tell me something. What's your word for husband?”
“Hellren
, I suppose. The short version is just
hell.”
She laughed softly. “Go figure.
”
p. 347
Rhage nodded. “The place is also big enough. We could all live there without killing each other.”
“That depends more on your mouth than any floor plan,” Phury said with a grin.
p. 390
“Yeah.” Rhage sighed. “All I want is one good female. But I guess I'll settle for quantity until I find her. Life just sucks, doesn't it?
”
p. 393
Lover Eternal
“All right, big guy, down you go.”
Oh, yeah. Bed. Bed was good.
“And look who's here. It's Nurse Vishous.
”
p. 47
“So say that.”
“What?
”
“Nothing. Say nothing. Over and over and over again. Do it.”
She bristled, the scent of fear replaced by a sharp spice, like fresh, pungent mint from a garden. She was annoyed now.
“
Say it
,” he commanded, needing to feel more of what she did to him.
“
Fine
. Nothing. Nothing.” Abruptly she laughed, and the sound shot through to his spine, burning him. “Nothing, nothing. No-thing. No-thing. Noooooothing. There, is that good enough for you? Will you let me go now?”
“No.
”
She fought against him again, creating a delicious friction between their bodies. And he knew the moment when the anxiety and irritation turned to something hot. He smelled her arousal, a lovely sweetening in the air, and his body answered her call.
He got hard as a diamond.
“Talk to me, Mary.” He moved his hips in a slow circle against her, rubbing his erection on her belly, increasing his ache and her heat.
After a moment the tension eased out of her, softening her against the thrust of his muscles and his arousal. Her hands flattened on his waist. And then slowly slid around to the small of his back, as if she were unsure why she was responding to him the way she was.
He arched against her, to show his approval and encourage her to touch more of him. When her palms moved up his spine, he growled low in his throat and dropped his head down so his ear was closer to her mouth. He wanted to give her another word to say, something like
luscious
or
whisper
or
strawberry
.
Hell,
antidisestablishmentarianism
would do it.
pp. 62-63