His words were enough to send a solid rack of shivers down my spine.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay,” he told me bluntly. “I took a lot. But you’ll be perfectly fine if you just take some of mine now. By morning it’ll be like nothing even happened.”
I closed my eyes, knowing in my heart he was right.
I bit my lip, then nodded. “Okay.”
Then Constantine offered me his wrist.
“I’ll bite and you suck,” he ordered.
His hands went to my hips, and I shivered.
Chen thrashed on the table.
Pavlov cursed, and Constantine offered me his wrist again.
I took one tiny lick, and a memory from a long, long time ago assaulted my senses.
I’d tasted something very similar to this before… and it tasted good.
“Take him to the holding room at the basement level. I’ll get him as I leave later.”
Then, as the two men took Chen away to some holding cell below us, I took a healthy suck on Constantine’s wrist.
The moment I did, my whole body seemed to catch fire.
My heartbeat started to pound its usual uneven staccato, and I started to breathe heavily.
It lasted only a matter of seconds, but when Constantine disengaged his wrist from my grasp, I was practically humping his leg.
“So… you’re sick.”
His simple words had my eyes widening.
My heart started to thump erratically once again.
“Yes and no,” I hedged.
“You have an irregular heartbeat.”
I nodded. “I do.”
We’d already talked about this.
“And?”
“And I’ve had one since I was a baby, remember?” I shrugged. “Then it was discovered when I was in an accident that nearly killed me years ago that it had gotten worse. I’ve lived a fine life,” I snapped.
He didn’t reply.
I sighed.
“I’m supposed to take it easy, but I find myself unable to do so,” I finally muttered darkly.
“Why?”