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unbuttoning his shirt.
    She opened her mouth to object.
    Griff spun her around, one heavy arm banding around her and locking her arms to her sides.
    She started to argue. Loudly .
    His free hand settled over her mouth. Chin resting beneath her temple, his breath skated across her cheek. “Bite me and I’ll take you over my knee.”
    Seth paused in the act of shrugging out of his shirt. “I don’t care how close we are, man. Bro Code says I do not need to know your proclivities in the bedroom.”
    “She’s a succubus, Seth.”
    “That explains the influx of men in the club. You’ve put a serious cramp on my love life, sweetheart.” He smiled before dropping his shirt.
    A narrow, very realistic flame tattoo started somewhere below his waistband and snaked up to lick at his belly button. Reds, blues and yellows ran together and gave the erotic art depth. Every breath made the vibrant ink undulate across his skin like a living thing. He ran a hand down his chiseled abs and traced the flame’s edges, following the dark outline without looking.
    Her heart pounded. Every shallow inhale and fast exhale burned. She couldn’t get enough air. Sagging in Griff’s arms, she started to tremble. Cold sweat slicked her feverish skin. It was impossible to drag her narrowing gaze away from those fingers tracing a sensual path along the flame.
    Seth’s voice, tinny and far away, cut through her awareness. Shouts echoed in her head. She heard her name, tried to respond. Her jaw locked tight and made it impossible to make more than rudimentary sounds. Sight had abandoned her. Then a familiar smell hit her.
    Sex.
    Terror gripped her as that familiar fever raged unchecked. Her muscles began convulsing.
    A heavy body pinned her to the ground.
    Whispered words carved through her terror. “I’m here, baby.”
    Firm hands gripped her arms and held her steady.
    Griff.
    “Breathe through it with me.”
    His intoxicating smell wound around her, stoking her senses until they blazed with awareness.
    “I’m not going anywhere, Bailey. You hear me? I’m right here.”
    As her world fractured further and true blackness obliterated her awareness, she caught her breath. She might be going under, but she wasn’t alone.

Chapter Five
    “Go,” Griff ordered, struggling to pin Bailey without hurting her.
    Seth snatched his shirt off the floor and shoved his arms down the sleeves. “She going to be okay?”
    “If I can get the seizure stopped.”
    “How?”
    “Just go, okay?” He grunted when her fist connected with his chin. “Lock the elevator behind you.”
    “Don’t let her go.” The elevator doors slid closed on Seth’s parting order.
    Griff shifted to get a better grip before scowling down at the woman in his arms. “You need to feed, Bailey.”
    Her sightless stare roved around the room, unfocused and eerie as hell.
    “Dammit.” He rolled and wiggled like a preteen wrestler, struggling to get Bailey turned around. “You’re going to make me break the rule of two Cs in sex—woman’s got to be conscious and consenting.”
    He maneuvered an arm around her torso and his legs around her thighs. He ripped at her jeans. Long minutes later, after wriggling and shoving with his hands and feet, he managed to get the denim wrapped around her ankles. Mutually slick with sweat, it was hard as hell to hang onto her as he worked his own pants free.
    She froze the second his cock brushed her ass.
    Blood flooded his groin in a near-painful rush as his body responded to the ever-present need of what he’d become.
    Painful keens escaped her.
    “Easy, baby.” Arms still locked, he rolled the two of them over so he pressed against her back as she lay facedown on the Oriental rug. He hooked a foot in her jeans and shoved them free of her feet before easing her legs apart.
    She arched and lifted up, presenting herself to him.
    “Son of a bitch.” Griff dragged a shaking hand down his face. “I’m not a damn saint, Bailey.”
    The smell of