ishous came into the clinic and headed straight back to the quarantine room. No one at the nursing station questioned his right to barge on through, and as he went down the hall, the medical staff tripped over their own feet to get out of his way.

Smart. He was heavily armed and edgy as hell.

The day had been a wasteland. He hadn't found anything in the Chronicles that approached what had been done to Butch. Nothing in the Oral Histories either. And worse, he was sensing things in the future, parts of people's destinies realigning, but he could see nothing of what his instincts told him was happening. It was like watching theater with the curtain down: Every once in a while he would see the velvet move as a body brushed the far side or he would hear indistinct voices or the lighting would shift under the tasseled hem. But he knew no particulars, his gray cells shooting blanks.

He strode past Havers's lab and went into the housekeeping closet. As he stepped through the concealed door, he found the anteroom empty, the computers and the monitors carrying on their sentry duties alone.

V stopped dead.

On the glowing screen closest to him, he saw Marissa lying on the bed on top of Butch. The cop's arms were around her, his bare knees split wide to accommodate her body as the two of them moved against each other in waves. V couldn't see their faces, but it was obvious their mouths were fused and their tongues wrapped.

V rubbed his jaw, dimly aware that under his weapons and his leathers, his skin had grown hot. God¡­ damn¡­ Butch's palm was slowly sliding up Marissa's spine now, going under her profusion of blond hair, finding, caressing the back of her neck.

The guy was totally sexed up, but he was so gentle with her. So tender.

V thought of the sex he'd had the night Butch had been taken. Nothing gentle about that. Which had been the point for both parties involved.

Butch shifted and rolled Marissa over, making a move to mount her. As he did, the hospital johnny broke open, the ties ripping free and revealing his strong back and powerful lower body. The tattoo at the base of his spine flexed as he pushed his hips through her skirts, trying to find home. And as he worked what was no doubt a rock-hard erection against her, her long, elegant hands snaked around and bit into his bare ass.

As she scored him with her nails, Butch's head lifted, no doubt to let out a moan.

Jesus, V could just hear the sound¡­ Yeah¡­ he could hear it. And from out of nowhere an odd yearning feeling flickered through him. Shit. What exactly in this scenario did he want?

Butch's head dropped back down into Marissa's neck, and his hips started to surge and retract, then surge again. His spine undulated and his heavy shoulders shrugged and released as he found a rhythm that made V blink really quick. And then not at all.

Marissa arched up, her chining lifting, her mouth opening. Christ, what a picture she was under her male, her hair strewn all over the pillows, some of it tangled around Butch's thick bicep. In her passion, in her vibrant peach gown, she was a sunrise, a dawn, a promise of warmth, and Butch was basking in what he was lucky enough to touch.

The anteroom's door opened and V wheeled around, blocking the monitor with his body.

Havers put Butch's medical chart down on a shelf and reached for a hazmat suit. "Good evening, sire. You've come to heal him again, have you?"

"Yeah¡­" V's voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "But now's not a good time."

Havers paused, suit in hand. "Is he resting?"

Not in the slightest. "Yeah. So you and I are going to leave him alone right now."

The doctor's brows shot up behind his horn-rimmed glasses. "I beg your pardon?"

V picked up the chart, shoved it at the doctor, then grabbed the suit and hung it back up. "Later, doc."

"I¡ªI need to do an examination. I think he may be ready to go home¡ª"

"Great. But we're leaving."

Havers opened his mouth to argue and V got bored with the conversation. Clamping a hand on the doctor's shoulders, he looked into the male's eyes and willed him into agreement.

"Yes¡­" Havers murmured. "Later. T-tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow works."

As V frog-marched Marissa's brother back out into the hall, all he could think about was the images on that screen. So wrong of him to watch.

So wrong of him to¡­ want.

Marissa was on fire.

Butch¡­ good Lord, Butch. He was heavy on top of her and big, so big her legs were stretched wide beneath her gown to accommodate him. And the way he moved¡­ the rhythm of his hips was making her crazy.

When he finally broke the kiss, he was breathing hard and his hazel eyes were full of sexual hunger, a rank male starvation. Maybe she should have been overwhelmed because she had no idea what she was doing. Instead, she felt powerful.

As silence stretched, she said, "Butch?" Though she wasn't exactly sure what she was asking for.

"Oh¡­ God, baby." With a light brush, his hand went down her neck to her collarbone. He paused as he got to the top of her dress, clearly asking for permission to take off her gown.

Which cooled her down fast. Her breasts seemed average enough, but it wasn't as if she'd seen any other female's to compare. And she couldn't bear to catch the sort of disgust males of her kind had looked at her with. Not on Butch's face, and especially not if she were naked. That distaste had been hard enough to bear fully clothed and coming from males she didn't care about.

"It's okay," Butch said, removing his hand. "I don't want to push you."

He kissed her lightly and rolled off her, dragging a sheet over his hips as he eased onto his back. He covered his eyes with his forearm, his chest going up and down like he'd been running.

Marissa looked down at her bodice and realized she was clutching the fabric so hard her knuckles were white. "Butch?"

His arm dropped and his head turned on the pillow. His face was still swollen in places, one of his eyes still black and blue. And she noticed that his nose had been broken, but not recently. Yet to her he was beautiful.

"What, baby?"

"Have you¡­ have you had many lovers?"

He frowned. Inhaled. Looked like he didn't want to reply. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

Marissa's lungs turned to concrete as she imagined him kissing other females, unclothing them, mating. She was willing to bet the vast majority of his lovers hadn't been clueless virgins.

God, she was going to throw up.

"Which is another reason it's good that we stop," he said.

"How so?"

"I'm not saying it would have gone this far, but I would need a condom."

Well, at least she knew what one of those was. "But why? I'm not fertile."

The long pause didn't inspire confidence. And neither did the way he cursed under his breath. "I haven't always been careful."

"With what?"

"Sex. I've had¡­ a lot of sex with people who might not have been clean. And I did it without protection." He flushed as if ashamed of himself, the color riding up his neck and slamming into his face. "So yeah, I'd need a condom with you. I don't have any idea what I'm carrying."

"Why weren't you more careful with yourself?"

"Just didn't give a sh¡ªer, yeah¡­" He reached out and took a piece of her hair. As he carried it to his lips and kissed it, he said under his breath, "Now I wish I were a goddamned virgin."

"I can't catch human viruses."

"I wasn't just with humans, Marissa."

Now she went completely cold. For some reason, if it was with females of his own species, with women, that struck her as different. But another vampire?

"Who?" she asked tightly.

"Somehow I don't think you'd know her." He dropped the strand of hair and put his arm back over his eyes. "God, I wish I could undo that. Undo a lot of things."

Oh¡­ Jesus. "It happened recently, didn't it."

"Yeah."

"Do you¡­ love her?"

He frowned and looked over at her. "God, no. I didn't even know her¡ªoh, shit, that sounds worse, doesn't it."

"Did you take her into your bed? Did you sleep beside her afterward?" Why in the hell was she asking these questions? It was like poking at a cut with a steak knife.

"No, it was in a club." Shock must have shown on her face, because he cursed again. "Marissa, my life isn't pretty. The way you've known me, being with the Brotherhood, dressed in fancy clothes¡­ that's not the way I lived before. And that's really not who I am now."

"Who are you, then?"

"No one you'd ever know. Even if I were a vampire, our paths would never cross. I'm a blue-collar kind of guy." At her look of confusion, he said, "Lower-class."

His tone was factual, as if he were reciting his height or weight.

"I don't think of you as lower-class, Butch."

"Like I said, you don't really know me."

"When I lie this close to you, when I smell your scent, when I hear your voice, I know everything that matters." She looked down the length of him. "You are the male I want to mate with. That's who you are."

A dark, spicy scent came out of his skin in a rush, the kind of thing that were he a vampire she would have said was his bonding mark. As she drew it in through her nose, she took strength in the response.

With fingers that shook, she went to the first of the little buttons on her bodice.

He captured both her hands in one of his. "Don't force yourself, Marissa. There are things I want from you, but I'm in no hurry."

"But I want to. I want to be with you." She pushed him away and started working at the buttons, except she didn't get far because she was trembling so badly. "I think you're going to have to do it."

His breath went in on an erotic hiss. "You sure?"

"Yes." When he hesitated, she nodded at the bodice. "Please. Get this off me."

In slow succession, he freed each of the pearl buttons, his battered fingers sure, the dress opening little by little as he went. Without her corset on, her naked skin was revealed in the shallow V that formed.

As he got to the last one, her whole body started to quake.

"Marissa, you're not okay with this."

"It's just¡­ No male has ever seen me before."

Butch went motionless. "You are still¡­"

"Untouched," she said, hating the word.

Now his body trembled and that dark scent flowed from him even more strongly. "It wouldn't have mattered if you weren't. I need you to know that."

She smiled a little. "I do. Now will you¡­" As his hands came up, she whispered, "Just be kind, all right?"

Butch frowned. "I'm going to love what I see because it's you." When she didn't meet his eyes, he leaned forward. "Marissa, you're beautiful to me."

Impatient with herself, she gripped the bodice and bared her breasts. Closing her eyes, she found she couldn't breathe.

"Marissa. You're beautiful."

She lifted her lids, bracing herself. Except he wasn't staring at what she'd revealed.

"But you haven't looked at me yet, have you?"

"I don't need to."

Tears speared into the corners of her eyes. "Please¡­ just look."

His eyes drifted downward and he inhaled sharply through his teeth, the hiss cutting through the room. Ah, hell, she knew there was something wrong¡ª

"Jesus, you're perfect." With a quick pass, his tongue licked over his lower lip. "May I touch you?"

Overwhelmed, she nodded with a jerk of the chin and his hand slipped under the bodice, smoothed up her rib cage and caressed the side of her breast, soft as a breath. She surged at the contact and then settled down. At least until he brushed her nipple with his thumb.

Then she arched involuntarily.

"You're¡­ very perfect," he said in his hoarse voice. "You blind me."

Butch's head went down, his lips finding the skin at her sternum, then kissing the way up her breast. Her nipple gathered up on itself, straining for¡­ yes, his mouth. Oh¡­ God, yes¡­ his mouth.

His eyes stared into hers as he latched on to the tip of her breast, pulling her between his lips. He sucked on her for a heartbeat before releasing and blowing across the glistening tip. Between her legs, she felt a warm rush.

"You okay?" he said. "This okay?"

"I didn't know¡­ they could feel like that."

"No?" He brushed his lips over her nipple again. "Surely you've touched this beautiful place? No? Not ever?"

She couldn't think straight. "Females in my class¡­ we're taught that we shouldn't¡­ do such things. Unless we are with a mate and even then¡­" God, what were they talking about?

"Ah¡­ well, I'm here now, aren't I?" His tongue came out and licked over her nipple. "Yeah, I'm here now. So give me your hand, Marissa." When she did, he kissed her palm. "Let me show you what perfection feels like."

He took her forefinger into his mouth and sucked on it, then popped it free and brought it to her distended nipple. He ran circles around the tip, touching her through her own hand.

She let her head fall back, but kept her eyes on his. "It's so¡­"

"Soft and tight at the same time, isn't it." He lowered his mouth, covering her nipple and her fingertip, a smooth, licking warmth. "Feels good?"

"Yes¡­ dear Virgin in the Fade, yes."

His hand went to her other breast and rolled her nipple, then he massaged the swell beneath. He was so big looming over her, the hospital gown slipping from his bunched-up shoulders, his heavy arms clenched from holding himself above her body. As he switched sides and went to work on her other nipple, his dark hair brushed against her pale skin, soft and silky.

Lost in the heat and a growing restlessness, she didn't notice as her skirts started moving¡­ until they were up around her thighs.

As she stiffened, he asked against her breast, "Will you let me keep going a little farther? If I swear I'll stop anytime you want?"

"Um¡­ yes."

His palm slid onto her bare knee, and she jerked, but when he went back to work on her breast, she forgot the fear. With slow, lazy circles, his hand went higher and higher until it slipped between her thighs¡ª

Abruptly, she felt something spill out of her. In a panic, she clamped her legs together and pushed at him.

"What, baby?"

Blushing fiercely, she muttered, "I feel something¡­ different¡­"

"Where? Down here?" He stroked her inner thigh.

As she nodded, his smile was slow, sexy. "Oh, really?" He kissed her, lingering with their mouths together. "Want to tell me what it is?" As she flushed even more, his hand kept up the caressing. "What kind of different?"

"I'm¡­" She couldn't say it.

His mouth shifted so it was next to her ear. "Are you wet?" When she nodded, he growled deep in his throat. "Wet is good¡­ wet's right where I want you to be."

"It is? Why¡ª"

With a smooth, quick move, he touched her panties between her legs, and they both jumped at the contact.

"Oh¡­ God," he groaned, his head dropping on her shoulder. "You're so with me right now. You're so right here with me."

Butch's erection pounded as he kept his hand on the warm, damp satin over Marissa's core. He knew if he pushed the panties aside, he was going to dive into a whole lot of honey, but he didn't want to shock her out of the moment.

Curling his fingers around her, he rubbed the heel of his palm against the top of her slit, right where it would feel best. As she gasped, her hips pushed forward, then followed his slow rhythm. Which naturally put him through the roof. To maintain control, he rolled his hips so his stomach was sitting on that arousal of his, trapping it against the mattress.

"Butch, I need¡­ something¡­ I¡­"

"Baby, have you ever¡ª" Ah, hell, no way she'd ever pleasured herself. She'd been surprised at what her nipple felt like.

"What?"

"Never mind." He eased off her core and stroked her panties, just running his fingertips over her. "I'm going to take care of you. Trust me, Marissa."

He kissed her mouth, sucking at her lips, getting her lost. Then he slipped his hand under the lip of satin at her core¡ª

"Oh ... fuck," he breathed, hoping she was too dazed to hear the curse.

She tried to pull back. "What's wrong with me?"

"Easy, easy." He held her in place by putting his thigh over her legs. And then worried that he might have orgasmed¡­ given the rocket launch sensation that had just ridden up his shaft. "Baby, there's nothing wrong. It's just you're¡­ oh, God, you're bare here." He moved his hand, his fingers sliding into her folds¡­ holy heaven, she was so smooth. So honeyed. So hot.

He was getting lost in all that slick flesh when her confusion registered through the haze. "You have no hair," he said.

"Is that bad?"

He laughed. "It's beautiful. It's exciting to me."

Exciting? Try explosive. All he wanted to do was crawl up under her skirt and lick at her and swallow and suck her off, but all that was definitely too far.

And shit, he was such a Neanderthal, but the idea he was the only one who'd put his hand where it was was erotic as hell.

"How's this feel?" he asked, tuning things up a little.

"God¡­ Butch." She arched wildly on the bed, her head kicking back so that her neck bent in a lovely upward curve.

His eyes latched on to her throat, and the strangest instinct went through him: He wanted to bite her. And his mouth opened like he was prepared to do just that.

Cursing, he shrugged off the bizarre impulse.

"Butch¡­ I ache."

"I know, baby. I'm going to take care of that." He latched on to her breast with his mouth and started to touch her seriously, finding a rhythm with the stroking, being careful to stay on the outside so she didn't get thrown.

Turned out he was the one who got tossed. The friction and the feel of her and the scent of it all snowballed on him until he realized he was shadow-pumping her, pushing his hips into the mattress in tempo with his hand. As his head fell between her breasts because he couldn't hold it up anymore, he knew he had to stop the cock massage he was giving himself. He needed to pay attention to her.

He looked up. Her eyes were wide and a little frightened. She was just on the verge and she was getting rattled.

"All right, baby, it's okay." He didn't stop working between her legs.

"What's happening to me?"

He put his mouth to her ear. "You're about to come. Just let yourself feel it. I'm right here, I've got you. Hold on to me."

Her hands bit into his arms and as her nails drew blood, he smiled, thinking that was so perfect.

Her hips tilted up sharply. "Butch¡­"

"That's it. Come for me."

"I can't¡­ I can't¡­" She shook her head back and forth, getting trapped between what her body wanted and what her mind was having trouble assimilating. She was going to lose the momentum unless he did something fast.

Without even thinking or knowing why it would help, he buried his face in her throat and bit her, right over her jugular. That was what did it. She cried out his name and started convulsing, her hips jerking, her body flexing all along her spine. With profound joy, he helped her ride the orgasm's pulses and he talked to her the whole time¡ªalthough God only knew what he was saying.

When she'd come down, he lifted his head from her neck. Between her lips, he saw the tips of her fangs and was struck by a compulsion he couldn't fight. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and licked at the sharp points, feeling them rasp over his flesh. He wanted them in his skin¡­ he wanted her to suck at him, fill her belly, live off of him.

He forced himself to stop and the retreat was so damn hollow. He strained from unmet needs and they weren't all sexual. He needed¡­ things from her, things he didn't understand.

Her eyes opened. "I didn't know¡­ it would be like that."

"Did you like it?"

Her smile was enough to make him forget his own name. "Oh, yes."

He kissed her gently, then rearranged her skirts and did up the buttons of her bodice, rewrapping the gift of her body. Easing her into the crook of his arm, he got good and comfortable. She was fading into sleep already and he was so damned content to watch her slide. It just seemed like the perfect thing to do, to stay awake while she rested, to watch over her.

Although for some reason, he wished he had a weapon.

"I can't keep my eyes open," she said.

"Don't even try."

He stroked some of her hair and thought, in spite of the fact that in about ten minutes he was going to have the worst case of blue balls known to mankind, that everything was right in his world.

Butch O'Neal, he thought, you have found your woman.