Moan when his tongue hits my frosting-soiled skin, licking an unhurried line along my clavicle, lapping it up.
Mary? Rhage choked out in confusion.Except before she could reach for him, he began to cough in great spasms, his head locking forward, his distended belly clenching, his jaw extending.
Whats wrong with him? Mary said as she reached forward, even though it wasnt like she could do anything to help. Hell, the medical professionals looked equally confused, and they were the ones with the M.D.s after their names—Rhage coughed the damn bullet out.Right into her hand.
With one last, great heave, something came flying from his mouth and she caught the pointed piece of lead on reflex—as Rhage abruptly started breathing in deep, easy draws like nothing had ever been wrong with him.Turning the thing over on her palm, she started laughing.
She couldnt help it.
Standing the slug between her thumb and forefinger, she held it up for the Brothers and the docs and the fighters—because Rhage was still blind. And then she straddled her mates outstretched legs and took his face in her hands.Practice. We have a home meet this week.
My brows shoot up into my hairline. You do?Yeah. He pauses. Its at the arena.
Isnt that where they have basketball games?Wow. That many people show up?