Elliott looked up at Nate just in time to collect the offered glass when it came. But then, his eyebrows rose in curiosity when he noticed Nate's attire. “You’re dressed in sweats.” Nate sat in the leather chair opposite and leaned back in his wrinkly white t-shirt, spreading his legs wide, one bare foot thrown on the coffee table. His thick dark hair was a mess and his green eyes were filled with interest in what was going on with his friend. “Well, that's because Bonnie made me wear it. She met with a potential new client in the morning and insisted I went with her to handle the fallout since I keep her up all night.” Elliott nodded with his forehead all bunched up. “Of course you did. You always do” Nate stared at him, momentarily startled. “Has it been that bad?” Elliott’s smile flashed. “Eleven times. Eleven???” Nate frowned. “Eleven times what?” His eyes widened. “You’ve been counting?” “Dude,” Elliott chuckled as he raised the glass to his lips. “Like I can help it. You k

“He’s dead,” Danny said with justice sparking his eyes. “I kept tabs for a while and that’s how I heard. They don’t like pedophiles in prison. All the inmates have kids so…it wasn’t long.” “Good. I’m glad he’s dead,” Nate muttered. Darrell agreed. “Me too.” “That makes four of us,” Elliott asserted, his eyes hard. He glanced at Danny. “But it was also you who thought we should do what we do now, wasn’t it? I’m trying to remember.” Darrell clarified, “Whenever we see it, we’ve gotta handle it.” They all made noises of agreement. Elliott leaned forward on his elbows. “Yeah, it was Danny who said we were lucky to still be alive after the war, lucky to still have these gifts. Night vision. Sensitive smell, superior hearing…” Danny waved his hand to shut up his friend. “Yeah, yeah. We all know what we can do.” Elliott reached over and smacked him. “I’m repeating the way you said it, fucker.” He continued, doing a respectful impression on his friend. “Strength, speed. We should use t

Standing in the hallway on his brand new welcome mat, pushing light-brown shoulder-length hair from a frowning forehead, was the woman he’d run from just yesterday. That she’d be standing here with confused blue eyes flitting from him wearing only a blanket to Lanka, was about the last thing Elliott wanted or saw coming. But he had to admit, she looked pretty freakin’ cute with her face all screwed up like that, her features reflecting her realization of what she’d just walked into. In his fantasies, she’d been more sultry and dressed like a stripper, but the All-American charm she was sporting was even more appealing. Lanka slammed one hand onto her jutted hip, still holding the door open as Joan checked her out, raking a discerning glance from their heels upward. Where Lanka was dressed for a night on the town, Joan wore faded, ripped-up blue jeans, a short cream coat over a deep blue sweater, and black sneakers. He smiled and exclaimed, “Joan!” trying to act normal. “Come in. Lan

“Almost done! Just gotta throw something on,” Elliott called out. “Okay! Take your time,” Joan called back, foot tapping. Pulling her keys from her jacket pocket, she fiddled with them for something to do, looking down and reading the fine print on her yoga pass. The door opened and she casually looked up and smiled. Her eyes flickered as he walked into the room wearing blue jeans that hugged him in all the right places, a burgundy graphic t-shirt that read, “Love To Protect,” and black sneakers. He rubbed his head with one hand and pointed at his shoes with the other. “I have black sneakers, too.” She smiled. “I see that.” He grabbed a black jacket from where he’d left it on the back of the couch and held her eyes as he walked to the coffee table. With a graceful motion, he dipped down to get his keys. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, and he hadn’t looked away from her either. He stood tossing his keys from hand to hand, and his dimple flashed. “And I’ve got keys, too. Only I t

Joan did as she was told. She unbuttoned the jacket and let it fall to the ground around her sneakers. “Take those off, too,” Elliott commanded and Joan kicked them off and bent to slip out of her socks, but then halted when he said, “Did I say you could take off those?” She straightened up and shook her head, the delicate scent of her arousal returning. A human male would never have detected the gentle sexy fragrance from here, but he wasn’t human. “Take off your sweater and let me see the color of your bra. I've been fantasizing about those for so long it hurt.” She reached around her waist and pulled the soft acrylic fabric over her head, hesitating a moment with her face masked to let him look at her pale pink, lacy bra. He went rock hard in an instant and rasped, “Off.” She dropped the sweater to the floor. He tore off his own black, thin jacket and tossed it aside. Licking his lips, Elliott stared at the crotch of her jeans, imagining what she looked like underneath. “Take tho