Page 37 of The Syphon King

“Do you think he’s sick and doesn’t wanna admit it?”

“I think he just has big important things on his mind.” She gasped and pointed. “The clock!” She tiptoed over to the back wall and gawked before the antique piece. “Beautiful,” she murmured, stroking her fingers along the aged wood, wondering how many homes it had stood in across the centuries. How many seconds, minutes, and hours had it kept for families over the years?

Her wrist tingled as she recalledagainthe way he’d grabbed her. Scared the shit out of her. The strength in his huge hand, the fierce look in his eyes and the chill in those two words. Don’t. Touch.

She’d felt like a plague. He’d crucified her slowly with his judgy stare upon getting out of the car, taking his time recording every inch of the south swampfilth. She wasn’t stupid, she knew how he felt about her. His kindness was strictly for Rosavelt’s sake, always had been. And shethoughtshe didn’t mind that, even thought it was sweet, but no, it damn well bothered her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d dressed to impress. Rosavelt talked her into it for one reason—because shewantedto be talked into it. Shewantedhim to see her. She honestly felt invisible when Rosavelt was there, and it made her sick to feel any icky way when he was kind to her daughter all because she needed a little of the same.

How quickly and easily he’d resurrected the woman in her. Without even trying. Or wanting to. Wasn’t fair one bit how impossibly delicious he was. That ink on his head was panty melting. And she couldn’t remember for the life of her why she hated a man with a beard.

Maybe ten minutes later, she heard, “My apologies.”

Joe spun at his voice, finding him before Rosavelt. Oh dear God. He’d changed. She spun back to the clock. Dark denim jeans, fitted black short-sleeve shirt that revealed much more ink and muscles, holy swampcicle, so unfair. No apologies for the helicopter mother standing in the way of the only thing he wanted. Her possiblygifted child. She stared blindly at the clock as he gave Rosavelt everything a little girl craved. A caring, loving, gorgeous male. Any other scenario, she’d step aside and smile with gratitude. But, with her daughter, she couldn’t. Her job, her vocation, was being her mother. And God knew she wanted Rosavelt to succeed as much as she could in everything her sweet heart desired.

All those nights of guilt had finally caught up to her. Knowing she was overworking, neglecting the more important things with her kids. It was time to let her fly. Somebody else was stepping up to the plate and she wasn’t about to get in the way of that no matter what her stupid brain and body decided it suddenly wanted and needed.

She waited for the shame to consume her for having female needs but only encountered numbness.

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Vex called from behind.

“It is,” she concurred as cheerily as she could muster, her awakened needs caving her chest in.

“If you’re ready, I’d like to take Rosavelt on a quick tour.”

“Yay!” Rosavelt said, her feet racing for the door.

He’d like to takeRosavelton a tour. No, she was definitely not ready. “Let’s do it.” She bit the bullet and turned, keeping her eyes on her daughter only. “You excited?” she asked, smiling at the glow on her face as she made her way closer while staying out of their way.

She felt his stare on her and fixed her attention on his apartment. “Your place is very nice and cozy.” She headed for the door when looking at him became too hard to resist. “Can’t wait to see the rest.”

THE SHOWER WAS A COMPLETEfailure. He was not at all freed from Nitro’s diabolical sex craze. But there was no getting out of the problem. Only plowing through it while incurring the least amount of damage.

He’d changed into less formal clothes at seeing her inadequacy. No doubt from him ripping her dress off with his eyes. She’d surely seen it. Holy fractals, Rosavelt had too, no doubt. And that single touch was still being dragged through his gifts and hungers, learning all it could. She’d been scared yes, but there was no denying the need in her gaze, her breaths. He’d tasted and smelled it, seeping from her pores. Andher jacked up heartbeat reached clear to his balls before getting measured by his cock.

Now he had the final warning from the Marsh Moron about drinking her blood while fucking her to further assist with explicit graphic fantasies.

He could not permit himself to look at her. If she had an inkling of what was going on in his mind and body, she’d bolt, and he’d lose what mattered—helping sweet Rosavelt. She had necessary needs to feed and him taking advantage of her mother suffering from various forms of loneliness was not one of them.

No, Rosavelt had to come first. She was so careful to include her mother, a testament to her premature adulting skills she’d been required to learn due to having a single parent crippled by loss and guilt. It was unfair to all, but more unfair was not giving the child what was owed her. A proper childhood and an education befitting her bright mind. He could offer that and would if he could convince her mother it was the best thing for her at this time.

Which meant more wooing. A very tricky task now that his dick demanded he save the mother from her screaming sexual needs.

From his apartment to the main hall, he fucked her like a rabid animal in a darkcorner of his mind. Worse, he was in the process of convincing himself she'd be free if he just met her needs because surely, they were his and his alone to meet.He’dresurrected them.Heshould be the one to satisfy them.

He was losing his ever-logical mind before the night had even begun.

“BROTHER, ISsheyour assignment?”

The voice and words burned the canals of Vex’s ears. His Bat Brother’s gift was still giving at one thousand percent, telling him Skul’s dire need to fuck her lay just below his genuine curiosity. He focused his gift on his tongue, wrestling it into controlled submission.

“She is.”

Vex walked away when it was crystal clear his body was having no part of this self-control nonsense. One more second and the primal urge to slam him into the wall by his throat and properly define the line he’d drawn around her would have been fulfilled.

He found himself next to the very one he needed to keep distance from as more of his brothers joined their little circle, introducing themselves to Rosavelt.

“She’s having a blast,” Miss Skelton quietly exclaimed, her joy making him need to look at her. “I’ve never seen her so... alive.”

“And you?” he asked.

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