Whatever. She needed to find a job, and then there was the whole vampire thing to spin her wheels about.
Taking out her phone, she called Bill. “I’m heading out to the farm now if you want to meet me.”
“You ready to turn in?”
At the sound of Rhage’s voice, Mary jerked on the sofa, kicking the blanket that had been pulled over her legs onto the floor. Sitting up, she glanced around the billiards room, and then looked at Rhage, who was leaning over her.
“I fell asleep. Where did everyone go? Is the tournament over?”
He nodded as he sat on the coffee table and balanced his pool cue on his forefinger. “Butch won. The bastard. He and V just headed to the Pit.”
With a big yawn, she pushed her hair back. The massive T.V. over the fireplace was muted, some kind of Steven Seagal throwback movie from the early nineties showing him punching out a bunch of guys on a city street.
“I think that was what was on when I crashed,” she said idly as she pointed to the screen
“Actually, that was three movies ago.” Rhage stroked her cheek. “This is a different one, but don’t feel bad. They all look the same. You going to let me carry you up?”
“I can make it myself.”
“I know.” He put the cue aside and offered her a hand. “The question is, will you stop me from picking you up?”
She smiled. “No.”
Rhage drew her off the sofa, and the next thing she knew, she was in his strong arms and he was striding in between the pool tables. Out in the foyer, she yawned again and got comfy for the trip.
“You are too good to me,” she murmured.
“Not even by half.”
Up on the second floor, he stopped in front of the closed door of their room, and she bent down and opened the way in for them. With no effort at all, he took her over to the bed and laid her out on her side of the mattress.
“Can you brush my teeth for me?” she asked. “That is the real question.”
“You got it.”
As he went to turn away, she laughed. “That was a rhetorical.”
“I was going to bring you your brush and a glass of water.” He put his hands on his hips and stared down at her. “Unless you’re determined to make it to the sink?”
Boy, he was a fantastic-looking male specimen, she thought as she measured his enormous shoulders and bulging arms, his flat stomach and lean pelvis, those long, powerful legs. And then there was that blond hair, those brilliant Bahamian blue eyes, that bone structure that seemed drawn by a master artist as opposed to something that had been born into this world.
“Mary?”
“Just admiring the view.”
“Oh?” He pivoted and flashed his ass. “You like?”
“Very much. How ’bout you take that shirt off for me?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he narrowed his eyes. “Are you coming on to me?”
“Why, yes, I believe I am.”
He turned back around, grabbed the front of his muscle shirt, and growled, “Say please first.”
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease—”
Riiiiiiip. And then his bare chest was on display, all that musculature throwing shadows in the dim light from the lamp on the bureau.
Rhage moved his hand down between his legs, gripping the hard length that had made a very serious appearance in the front of his leathers. “You want to see something else?” he drawled.
“Yes,” she breathed.
His fingers were slow on the button fly, teasing her as he revealed his erection inch by inch until it popped free and jutted straight out at her.
Mary reached down herself and disappeared her pants, spreading her legs as he stood back and stroked himself.
“Come here,” she said.
Rhage was up on that bed of theirs, up on her, in the work of a moment, and she guided him to her, bringing his head to her core. With a moan, she wrapped her legs around his ass, and he moved with force, joining them, rocking against her with increasing speed, going hard until the bed creaked and the pillows got bounced off and the duvet waded up beneath her.
As she grabbed onto his back, she felt the beast surge under her nails, the tattoo rising up and creating a pattern in his skin as if it wanted to get out.
“Mary,” Rhage said into her neck. “Oh, fuck, Mary…”
At the sound of his hoarse voice, an orgasm hit her like a lightning strike, the pleasure making her call out as he punched his pelvis into her again and again while he ejaculated.
When they finally went still, she stroked his spine, petting the beast, which surged under her touch. And it was so strange. In moments like this, even though it was crazy, it seemed like the three of them were together.
“Would you like to come shower with me?” Rhage asked as he nuzzled her throat. “I can think of some fun things to do with the soap.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“Cleanliness is next to godliness—isn’t that the human expression?”
Mary yawned and stretched, feeling him still inside. “I have an idea. You get started and I’ll be right in.”
“Perfect.”
After a couple of lingering kisses, Rhage pulled out and got up. Ditching the leathers from his lower legs, he walked buck naked into their bathroom.
Talk about a view.
He was like a walking Greek statue.
The shower came on, and she caught a whiff of the shampoo they used, and then the soap … and then the conditioner.
Motivating herself, she stretched once more and got out of bed. By the time she made it into the bathroom, Rhage was leaning back under the spray, rinsing his hair. With a quick strip, she took off her shirt and then she was in with him, his slick, aroused body glistening in the light from the mirrors.
“There she is,” he murmured as he pulled her in close.
It was a while before they got out, and by the end of it, her legs were so loose, it was a good thing she didn’t have far to go. Wrapped in Rhage’s robe, she padded over to the bureau to take out her pearl earrings while he went to the laundry hamper in their walk-in closet with the clothes they’d left everywhere.
She’d taken one of the studs out when she noticed the folder. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?” he said from the closet.
Opening the front cover …
… she felt the breath leave her lungs.
FORTY-NINE
When Rhage came out of the walk-in, he was feeling really damn good about life. Yeah, sure, the cop had prevailed at pool again, but after what his Mary had just treated him with? He was the true winner.
That shower sesh had been straight-up Olympian, top-of-the-mountain, land-speed-record stuff.
Walking out, he …
… stopped where he was.
Mary was sitting in the chair beside their bureau, her little pink feet on the carpet, her body engulfed by his bathrobe, her head down with her damp hair hanging forward. In her lap, open wide, was a folder that Rhage didn’t recognize.
But he knew what she was looking at.
Rhage went back into the closet and pulled on a pair of nylon track pants. On second thought, he added that AHS sweatshirt he’d worn the other night. Coming back out, he walked over to the bed and sat down.
Mary looked up when she got to the last page. “What is this? I mean…” She shook her head. “I think I know what it is. I just…”
Rhage gripped the edge of the mattress and leaned into his arms. Strangely, the antiques in the room, the heavy drapes, the pattern in the carpet, it all became much too clear, everything around him sharpening to the point that he winced.
“I didn’t ask Saxton to print all that out,” he blurted.
“Adoption papers? That’s what these are, aren’t they? I mean, I’m not completely versed in the Old Language, but I can catch the drift.”