Page 51 of Bond of Passion

“Anyway, she’ll be here before your suppressant wears off.”

Son of a bitch. He hadn’t thought about that, which was a measure of how injured and distracted he was. Sex was the number two priority in any Sem’s life, coming in second only to air. So, when the suppressant wore off, he would go into full-on rage as his body demanded sex.

Hell, half the aches and pains he felt right now were probably the physical effects of missing at least a dozen orgasms over the last couple of days. His drive for sex might be suppressed, but his body definitely noticed the lack of it.

Eidolon had theorized that a Sem would probably die after four days straight of suppressants and celibacy, but he was always working to extend that number. His goal was to put it into pill form so Sems could take it daily like birth control pills. Three weeks of regular life, one week of disrupted life. The Sem week would be way better than the human female week, though.

Tavin would volunteer for that trial. The freedom that would come with not being tied down to a biological urge so demanding that it ruled his life? To choose partners because he wanted them and not because he needed them?

All. In.

Deja’s shadow shifted, her curves outlined by the mirror lights behind her. She was an example of someone he’d choose out of desire for her and not because his physiology demanded a release. And it could only happen with a partner—a female partner.

His cock stirred at the thought of release, and of Deja. He definitely wanted her, had even before, but after seeing her fight for him, he wanted her more than ever. The way she’d dealt with the Dar’grutassholes impressed the hell out of him. She was smart, bold, and one hell of a warrior.

What would she do if he asked her to join him in the shower?

Nipping at the heels of that thought was the realization that, for the first time in a long while, he wanted more than a quickie in a cramped space. He wanted her in his bed. And he wanted her there all night. Or all day—he wasn’t choosy.

He admired her silhouette as he rinsed his hair. “When will the suppressant wear off?”

“I dunno, five hours or so.”

Five hours. Judging by how he felt right now, he would be sleeping for most of that time. Even at this very moment, thoughts of climbing into bed and making passionate love to his pillow were sneaking into his head.

He’d wake up ravenous, his body starved for a female. He wanted that female to be Deja. Five hours of sleep would go a long way to healing his body too, so maybe he wouldn’t need Dr. Sleeva.

“If I wake up and feel better, I’ll refuse the doctor.”

Even through the sound of the running water, he heard Deja’s surprised breath.

“Why would you do that?” Her silhouette was taut now, unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of her softly rounded shoulders. “You’re going to need sex anyway, right? Or you’ll, you know…die. And then all of this would have been for nothing. I didn’t go through—” She cleared her throat, and her shadow crossed its arms over its ample chest. “No. You have to fuck her. Doctor’s orders.”

“But I don’t want her.”

“Well, your options are pretty limited, now, aren’t they? It’s her or—”

“You,” he finished, his voice casting low through the steam and heat as he pictured her naked and in his bed. “It’s her…or you.” He could see himself thrusting between her thighs as she buried those fangs in his throat. “I want you.”

“You don’t know what you want.” Her nose came up, all haughty, and her voice matched. “You’ve been brought back from the brink of death dozens of times. You probably have brain damage. On top of the brain damage from the explosion at the hospital.” She shrugged. “Truly, I’m surprised you can even form a sentence without slobbering on yourself.”

He laughed, and then he laughed again simply because he could. After all the pain and terror and seeing his insides on the outside, he’d been afraid that he’d lost himself to trauma. And he probably had, to a degree. But laughing—the genuinely amused kind and not the maniacal kind—was a sign that he’d retained the ability to experience humor. To enjoy life.

Wait a second…

He thrust open the shower curtain. Deja’s eyes flared in surprise before she schooled her expression and pretended not to notice he was clean. And wet. And naked. Didn’t matter. She could play ice queen all she wanted. She was still sexy. Sexier even for being in his clothes. He’d been taken aback when he’d first seen her in them—the only female before Deja to wear his shirts around the house had been Gristlen—but he’d gotten over it quickly. And besides, he liked the way they looked on Deja. They were definitely too big, but she was tall enough that they didn’t swallow her. They only emphasized how well she could pull off wearing anything.

“Was Wraith here by any chance?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Her eyes flickered downward before skipping back up, a dark blush spreading across her cheeks. She liked what she saw, and he was confident enough to appreciate it. “He swung by while you were sleeping. Did something he called a mind meld and then laughed hysterically about his brother being the Vulcan, but he was the one doing mind melds…it made no sense. Anyway, he said he patched some cracks, whatever that means.”

Mystery solved. Wraith’s healing gift wasn’t of the physical nature. It was mental. The guy could help repair shattered minds. PTSD. Stuff like that. As a Seminus demon, his mind-altering gift was primarily a seduction tool, but Wraith sometimes helped family and friends.

“It means he got in my head and snipped a few frayed threads.”

“Oh. Good.” She started toward the door. “Well, I’m just going to let you finish up.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Answer you?” She pivoted back to him, her silver hair swinging like tinsel around her shoulders. “You didn’t ask me a question.”

Technically, she was right. But she knew what he wanted. He tugged the curtain closed and stepped back under the spray.

“I’m going to rinse off and climb back into bed. I want you in it with me, but my libido isn’t quite cooperating. So, when I wake up in five hours, I’m going to be hard as a rock, and I’m not going to be able to think about anything but getting inside you. The first time will be rough and raw. I can’t help that. But I promise to take care of you. Will you let me do that, Deja?”

Silence. Dead silence. But she hadn’t left. He’d have heard her footsteps.

“Deja?”

“You…you need the healer, Tavin.”

“I don’t—” As if his body agreed, a stabbing pain shot from his thigh to his solar plexus, and he doubled over, panting to get through it.

“Yes, dammit, you do!” she snapped. “You need to get better. I want you to be as healthy as possible, do you understand me? None of this matters if you don’t get better.”

The door slammed closed, and what do you know, he hadn’t heard her footsteps.