What was up with class today? It was watered-down porn. He practically had you and Patch on top of your lab table, horizontal, minus your clothes, doing the Big Deed.

He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go.

You should go," I breathed. "You should definitely go." "Go here?" His mouth was on my shoulder. "Or here?" It moved up my neck.

Who wants to kill you?” the guy asked. He was still looking over his shoulder, but his expression was puzzled. “There’s nobody there,” the girlfriend told me. “You’re making them think they can’t see you, aren’t you?” I said to Patch, awed by his power even as I despised his use of it.

You didn’t tell me she was so soft on the eyes,” he said to Patch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He spoke with a heavy Irish accent. “I didn’t tell her how hard you are on them either,” Patch returned, his mouth at the relaxed stage just before a grin.

He bowed is head into my throat, groaning softly. "I loved you long before you loved me. Its the only thing I have you beat at, and ill bring it up every chance I get." His mouth pressed to my skin, took on a devilish curve. "Lets get out of here. I'm taking you back to my place, this time for good. We have unfinished business, and I think its time we do something about it.

I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower." He grinned, hopping off the bike. "Now that is an invitation.