Home > Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(92)

Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(92)
Author: J.R. Ward

"It's good for him. He needs the exercise - Fritz! How are you, buddy?"

While Butch and V rolled their eyes, Rehv came in with Ehlena under his mink-clad arm. The Mohawked motherfucker was bundled up, as usual, and he was as always relying on his cane, but his matedmale perma-grin was in place, and his shellan was glowing at his side.

"Boys," he said.

Various grunts greeted him as Z and Bella came in with Nalla, and Phury and Cormia arrived because they were spending the day. Wrath and Beth were likely still up in the study - maybe looking at paperwork; maybe putting George briefly at the head of the stairs so they could have some "private time."

When John and Xhex came down with Blay and Saxton, the only people not in attendance were Qhuinn and Tohrment, who were likely in the gym, and Marissa, who was at Safe Place.

Well, those three and his Jane, who was down in the clinic restocking the supplies that had been drained from the other night.

Oh, and of course his twin, who was no doubt ... "um, yeahing" ... with that surgeon of hers.

With all the new arrivals in the room, the sound of deep voices multiplied and exploded as people poured drinks and passed the baby around and copped handfuls of popcorn. Meanwhile, Rhage and Fritz were opening a fresh load of kernels. And someone was changing the channels on the TV - likely Rehv, who was never satisfied with whatever was on. And another person was poking at the roaring fire.

"Hey. You still all right?" Butch said softly.

V camouflaged his startle routine by taking a hand-rolled out of the pocket of his leathers. The cop had spoken so quietly there was no way anyone else had heard it, and this was a good thing. Yeah, he was trying to ditch the ultrareserved shit, but he didn't want anyone to know how far he and Butch had gone. That was private.

Flicking up a light, he inhaled. "Yeah. I really f**king am, true." Then he glanced into the hazels of his best friend. "And ... you?"

"Yeah. Me, too."

"Cool."

"Cool."

Heeeeeeeeeeey, check his shit out with the relating. Any more of this and he was going to get a gold star on his chart.

A knuckle tap later and Butch was back to the game, lining up his first shot as V basked in the glow of interrelating like a pro.

He was taking another hit from his short-and-squat of Goose when his eyes skipped to the arched doorway of the room.

Jane hesitated as she glanced inside, her white coat opening as she leaned to the side, as if she were looking for him.

When their eyes met, she smiled a little. And then a lot.

His first impulse was to hide his own grin behind his Goose. But then he stopped himself. New world order.

Come on, smile, motherfucker, he thought.

Jane gave a short wave and played it cool, which was what they usually did when they were together in public. Turning away, she headed over to the bar to make herself something.

"Hold up, cop," V murmured, putting his drink down and bracing his cue against the table.

Feeling like he was fifteen, he put his hand-rolled between his teeth and tucked his wife-beater tightly into the waistband of his leathers. A quick smooth of the hair and he was ... well, as ready as he could be.

He approached Jane from behind just as she struck up a convo with Mary - and when his shellan pivoted around to greet him, she seemed a little surprised that he'd come up to her. "Hi, V ... How are - "

Vishous stepped in close, putting them body to body, and then he wrapped his arms around her waist. Holding her with possession, he slowly bent her backward until she gripped his shoulders and her hair fell from her face.

As she gasped, he said exactly what he thought: "I missed you."

And on that note, he put his mouth on hers and kissed the everliving hell out of her, sweeping one hand down to her hip as he slipped his tongue in her mouth, and kept going and going and going ...

He was vaguely aware that the room had fallen stone silent and that everything with a heartbeat was staring at him and his mate. But whatever. This was what he wanted to do, and he was going to do it in front of everyone - and the king's dog, as it turned out.

Because Wrath and Beth came in from the foyer.

As Vishous slowly righted his shellan, the catcalls and whistling started up, and someone threw a handful of popcorn like it was confetti.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout," Hollywood said. And threw more popcorn.

Vishous cleared his throat. "I have an announcement to make."

Right. Okay, there were a lot of eyes on the pair of them. But he was so going to suck up his inclination to bow out.

Tucking his flustered and blushing Jane into his side, he said loud and clear: "We're getting mated. Properly. And I expect you all to be there and ... Yeah, that's it."

Dead. Quiet.

Then Wrath released the handle on George's harness and started to clap. Loud and slow. "About. Fucking. Time."

His brothers and their shellans and all the guests of the house followed suit, and then the fighters broke out into a chant that raised the roof and then some - their voices vibrating through the air.

As he glanced over at Jane, she was glowing. Utterly glowing.

"Maybe I should have asked first," he murmured.

"Nope." She kissed him. "This is perfect."

Vishous started to laugh. Man, if this was living out loud, he'd ditch the tight-ass routine any night: His brothers were behind him, his shellan was happy, and ... okay, he could do without the popcorn in his hair, but whatever.

Minutes later, Fritz brought in champagne flutes, and now there was a different kind of popping, corks going flying as people talked even louder than before.

As someone shoved a glass into his mitt, he whispered in Jane's ear, "Champagne makes me horny."

"Really ..."

Slipping his hand down her hip ... and lower ... he tugged her in against his sudden arousal. "You ever meet the hall bathroom?"

"I do believe we've been formally introd - Vishous!"

He stopped nipping at her neck, but kept up with rolling his hips against hers. Which was a little indecent, but nothing that any of the other couples hadn't done from time to time.

"Yes?" he drawled. When she seemed speechless, he sucked on her lip and growled, "If you recall, we were discussing the bathroom? I was thinking maybe I could reacquaint the pair of you. Not sure if you're aware of it, but that sink counter has been crying out for you."

"And you do some of your best work at sinks."

V dragged one fang up her throat. "True that."

As his erection started thumping, he took his female's hand -

The grandfather clock in the corner started to chime, and then he heard four deep bongs. Which made him pull back a little and check his watch even though he didn't need to - because that clock had kept time correctly for two hundred years.

Four a.m.? Where the hell was Payne?

As the urge to go to the Commodore and bring his sister home struck hard, he reminded himself that although dawn was coming fast, she still had maybe an hour left. And given what he and Jane were about to do behind a closed door, he couldn't really blame her for eking out every moment she had with her male - even if he was absolutely, positively not going there.

"Everything okay?" Jane asked.

Getting back with the program, he dropped his head. "It will be as soon as I get you up on that counter."

He and Jane were in the loo for forty-five minutes.

When they came out, everyone was still in the billiards room. The music had been cranked and Lil Wayne's "I'm Not a Human Being" was echoing up to the foyer's ceiling. The doggen were buzzing around with little fancy crap on silver trays, and Rhage had a circle of laughing people around him as he cracked jokes.

For a moment, it felt like the good old days.

But then he didn't see his sister in the crowd. And no one came over to tell him she'd gone up to the guest room she'd been using.

"I'll be right back," he said to Jane. A quick kiss and he ducked out of the party, skated across the foyer, and went into the empty dining room. Rounding the fully set but very empty table, he got his cell from his pocket and dialed the phone he'd given her.

No answer.

He tried again. No answer. Third time? No ... goddamn answer.

With a curse, he punched in Manello's number, and shuddered at what he might be interrupting - but they'd probably pulled the drapes and lost track of time. And phones could defo get lost in sheets, he thought with a wince.

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