“Do to you?” Ciaran asked, his eyes burning fire. “What Icould havedone to you but didn’t....”
“The fuck does that mean?” Sawyer tried to swallow. The room tilted and spun.
Then Fraser was there, behind Ciaran. He looked worried. Scared, even. “Ciar,” he said, voice low. “I think he needs the doc?—”
“No!” Ciaran roared. And then his skin shimmered, his eyes changing before he blinked it away.
But Sawyer had seen it.
“Someone better start explaining,” he tried. “What the fuck’s going on? What the fuck are you?” Again, he clawed at his shirt, at his throat. He needed.... God, he needed anything. Everything. “The fuck is happening to me?”
He needed air.
He needed Ciaran.
He shook that thought from his head, but it made him dizzier.
Ciaran grabbed him before he could fall. “Would you?—”
“Fuck you,” Sawyer said, pushing Ciaran with both hands so hard, he hit the metal bars of the jail cell. Sawyer was so full of rage, so full of fury and desire, so confused and scared. And Ciaran’s skin shimmered again, tinged red, and his eyes changed, the pupils morphing into horizontal slits.
Sawyer should have been scared of that, but no.
He wasn’t scaredofCiaranor whatever he was. He was scared of the rabid desire he had for him. The burning need. He was scared ofnothaving him.
There was no denying it. Sawyer wanted...
He wanted Ciaran. Actually, he wanted to kill him, and fuck him, and?—
But Ciaran pushed off the metal bars, then fisted Sawyer’s shirt and pushed him hard against the desk, pressing his bodyagainst Sawyer’s. Sawyer grunted at the force of it. Ciaran’s scent was divine, and his nonhuman eyes were blazing hot with rage and desire. His erection hard against his own, undeniable.
And Sawyer was done resisting everything he’d been fighting against. The want, the need in his bones, in his blood, everything he craved, what he needed to survive—was right fucking there.
Ciaran’s eyes went from Sawyer’s to his mouth, the burning fire of rage giving way to desire. A desire that reflected his own, matched and mirrored everything he was feeling.
He wanted Sawyer as much as Sawyer wanted him.
Fuck yes.
Sawyer grabbed Ciaran’s face and crashed their mouths together, lips open, tongues colliding. Furious and scorching hot.
Heaven.
He tasted like saltwater and honey. Like... like heaven.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Fray mumbled, still in the room.
Sawyer hadn’t realised.
He didn’t care.
Fray could stand there and watch the whole show if he wanted. Sawyer wasn’t stopping—physically couldn’t, even if he’d wanted to.
And god help him, he didn’t want to.
“Okay, I’m out,” Fray mumbled, the door closing behind him.
Ciaran smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sawyer and held him, clawing at his back and pushing him harder against the desk. Sawyer’s feet came up off the floor.
