Page 23 of Breaking Danger
That wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how many feminine frills surrounded him. His dick felt like a club hanging off his front. This was all too much. Sensory overload. He had to get himself under control.
He’d jack off in the shower, that’s what he’d do. Get some of his headspace back. Good old jerking off in the shower. Worked a charm, and had since junior high.
The shower fittings were pretty easy to figure out and didn’t require a password to access 150 settings, as had the showers of the Cortez clan back in Columbia. Old Joaquin Cortez had spent half a million dollars each on his johns and he’d had 24 of them. The fittings had been pure gold and each showerhead could run water, perfume or champagne.
Sophie’s shower ran water. A nice jet of hot water. He stepped under it and opened a small cabinet set in the turquoise mosaic tile. He pumped soap from the turquoise enamel dispenser and lathered up, then was nearly brought to his knees because it smelled of Sophie. On her skin it had been so faint he only thought of it as the way her skin smelled. But in that concentrated form, it was like having a thousand Sophies spread over his body and, oh God.
His knees buckled.
Luckily there was a small marble bench running along one side. He sat down heavily. The showerhead must have had those new sensors because it automatically followed his movements. Sitting on the bench was like sitting under a waterfall. The water was warm and silky, just like Sophie’s skin.
He looked down at himself. The hard on was so full he felt tight, bursting out of his skin. He dropped a hand down, touched himself, then lifted his hand away. His dick didn’t want his hand, it wantedher, Sophie. But Sophie wasn’t here and he couldn’t present himself to her like this, like some teenage boy who couldn’t control his hormones.
Jon knew how to control himself. Control had been necessary with his family, otherwise he’d have sunk into the pit with them. At times, it felt like he was nothing but iron-clad control. But right now, his dick was dark and swollen, actually twitching. He had to get rid of this hard-on. He had to be presentable when he emerged from the bathroom, otherwise he’d scare her. And man, that was the last thing he wanted.
The world was scary as shit right outside her door. Monsters, on the loose. The city on fire. Their lives hanging by a thread. Hanging by his ability to be quick-witted and fast, his ability to navigate their way through monsters who could turn them into monsters themselves with one bite, one scratch. He was going to have to get a woman with no training several blocks to the Ghirardelli building and then up onto the roof. It had been hard enough alone, sprinting and stunning and shooting. On the way back, he was going to have to go at her pace, carrying a case, holding a weapon, which meant he couldn’t keep a hand on her.
Sophie Daniels was in shape. She’d felt lithe and sleek in his arms. But he knew the kind of muscles that heavy training built and she didn’t have them. She was in shape but not conditioned. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with him so he’d have to keep up with her.
He’d be on point, of course. And he’d give her his stealth suit, which would leave him pretty much defenceless. One scratch, one bite, and he’d turn into a monster himself. He didn’t know the latency of the virus but it must be very very fast, judging from the way it had spread. Before he knew it, his mind would be gone and he would turn on pretty Sophie Daniels and tear her apart.
She could beg and she could cry but he wouldn’t be himself anymore. He’d be gone in the smoky ruined depths of his own mind.
Like his parents.
He shoved that thought away but it stuck in his head like barbed wire.
His parents had been druggies. When high, there’d been nothing there for their son. He’d spent most of his childhood watching his parents clock out. It hadn’t mattered at all to them that he was cold and hungry and lonely. He remembered telling his mother that there was no food in the house and that he was hungry. She’d looked at him blankly and at that moment, Jon realized she didn’t know who he was.
He’d been five.
At the age of nine, a good looking blond kid, his parents had sold him to sex traffickers for a fix.
His parents had been monsters. All his life had been dedicated to him being a good guy. Fighting against people exactly like this. Those two years undercover—a mission so dangerous he had a box full of medals he could never show anyone—had been all about that.
The idea that with one bite, he could become a monster himself, hurt Sophie, kill her even, without feeling anything…that ideaterrifiedhim. More than any battle he’d been in.
Well.
He looked down at himself. He was only half-erect now, dick drooping more with each passing second. That was a way to get rid of his boner. Even better than jerking off, since his dick didn’t want his hand anyway. Just think of becoming infected and not only not being able to protect Sophie, but hurting her.
Guaranteed dick deflation.
He stepped out of the shower and into the air dryer. Even that smelled like Sophie. His clean clothes were neatly folded on a chair. He picked up his long sleeved tee from the floor and sniffed it. It didn’t smell as good as Sophie but then nothing did. He put on the tee and jeans and walked out barefoot to see Sophie at the kitchen door, smiling at him.
“Ready for some food?” she called out softly.
Hunger roared through him. Whatever she was cooking smelled wonderful. She stood framed in the door, shiny dark hair gleaming under the kitchen light, her beautiful face lit with a welcoming smile, and his heart skipped a beat.
He was a dead man. If the zombies didn’t get him, Sophie Daniels would.
CHAPTERFIVE
Mount Blue
Haven
“If you don’t stop rightthis minute I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and tie you down to the bed,” Catherine’s husband Mac growled.
