Page 14 of Shelter (The Wanderers 4)

CHAPTER5

“Are you serious?” Rush asked the huge, imposing man currently standing outside his weird jail cell. The guy was about six-four and built. Rush figured they kept sending him down here because he was scary looking.

Except the man wasn’t really scary looking. He didn’t give off that vibe. He even winced as if the last thing in the world he’d wanted to do was bring this plastic cup down to the basement and demand that Rush jerk off into the receptacle.

The man took a deep breath. He looked tired. Exhausted. As if he hadn’t slept in a few days. Why? “Look, man. Neither of us has the power to stop this situation, so just fucking do it.” He continued to hold the clear cup, shaking it in his extended hand that reached through the bars.

Rush stood from the cot and flattened himself to the far wall. He stared at the large man, trying to decide if he was friend or foe. He’d said “neither of us” as if they were in this together. Maybe they were. “And if I don’t?”

The guy lifted a brow. “You know that’s not an option.”

“I’m not a fucking sperm donor,” Rush hissed, infuriated. He’d heard stories of men forced to impregnate women, but he’d never imagined becoming one of them. The thought made the blood rush from his face, leaving him light-headed.

“Yeah, you are.” The man shook the cup again.

“So, let me get this straight. I wasn’t brought here for my medical skills. I was brought here because someone can’t get it up and I’m the replacement?”

The big guy jerked his hand back and grabbed the bar with his other hand, leaning in close, his gaze narrowed, his expression fit to kill. “This has nothing to do with whether or not a man can get it up, asshole, and you know it.”

Rush flinched. The guy was awfully defensive. “Is she your woman?”

The guy gritted his teeth, his chest rising as he inhaled slowly. Finally, he growled. “Do I look like I shoot blanks?”

Interesting response that didn’t answer his question. “You know virility has nothing to do with sperm count,” Rush countered. “Plenty of men can easily orgasm without getting anyone pregnant.”

The guy narrowed his gaze further. “No one in this house would disappoint a woman in bed, asshole. But if I were the one needing a replacement, I don’t think they’d choose a scrawny white guy.”

Rush couldn’t keep from chuckling. He had a point there. Nothing about this was remotely humorous, but he decided he liked this guy. He had nothing to base it on, but the man was obviously protective of whoever needed the sperm replacement or he wouldn’t be so defensive. Perhaps even the woman involved too.

“So, you’re saying I look like the guy who needs my sperm. Is he planning to pass my offspring off as his own then?” Clearly. This went without saying, but Rush wanted to continue to engage this man in conversation.

The guy sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Just fill the damn cup, will ya?”

“You planning to watch?” Rush continued without budging from his spot against the far wall.

“No, asshole. I’m not interested in your junk.”

“Rush.”

“Rush what?” the big guy asked, confusion on his face.

“It’s my name.”

“Rush is your fucking name?”

“Yes. Now you don’t have to call me asshole. I can assure you I’m not. I’m a doctor. Until three months ago, my life has been all about helping people.” He had no idea why he was telling this man anything, but perhaps if the guy saw him as a human being, it would help.

The guy snorted. “Fine. Fill the cup, Rush.”

“What? No jokes about why my parents named me Rush?”

“Maybe they were in a fucking hurry. What do I know? I was apparently born during a storm.”

Rush sucked in a breath. They were getting somewhere. “Your name is Storm?”

“Yeah. Now for the love of God…”

“So you believe there’s a God in this fucking world?”

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