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thin thread. “Not here.”
    “What do you mean? Where—”
    He cut off her words by dropping his head and kissing her.
    Just like that.
    Hot lips on her cool ones.
    The rough stroke of his tongue against hers.
    Magic exploding through her.
    Holy shit. She groaned at the wonder of it and canted her hips, feeling the heavy, hard weight of his cock against her belly. Hunger raged through her and she almost felt like sobbing. Never in her life had she wanted something so desperately she’d be willing to kill for it.
    “Someone’s coming,” he whispered against her mouth.
    Suddenly, his weight disappeared as he surged to his feet. Elyon too was up, standing by his side in seconds.
    Her body might be convulsing with lust, but her survival instincts were honed to a fine edge. She’d already caught the scent of approaching humans.
    On full alert, she watched as the two men entered the gym. Both wore sweatpants with matching hoodies. One was in gray, the other in black. They had their heads shaved and the bulging muscles that came from steroids rather than nature.
    Jaws tight and nipples tighter, Elyon grimaced. Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber.
    As if to prove the steroids had exterminated any brain cells they might have been hiding beneath their thick skulls, the men sashayed over to the ring, eying Elyon with a blatant sexual threat.
    Oh, brother.
    “Well, lookie what we have here,” the man in gray sweats drawled, grabbing his crotch.
    Seriously, why do men do that?
    It’s just…creepy.
    “We’re closed,” Max snapped.
    The man in black sweats snorted. Silently Elyon renamed him Idiot One as he leered at her as if she might actually be interested in his sorry ass.
    “I wondered what brought you to this shithole place,” he drawled at Max, but his eyes were pinned to Ely’s chest. “Now I know. Fringe benefits.”
    Idiot Two laughed like that was the funniest joke in the world.
    Seriously, this was getting embarrassing.
    “How about you share some of those benefits?” Idiot Two suggested.
    Max stepped forward, his body bristling with danger. And the musk of a male who was about to strike. “She’s mine.”
    Elyon felt a moment of swoony goodness. His, huh?
    As her cat was purring in delight, Idiot One was ruining the moment, clicking his tongue, and flexing his muscles as if afraid Elyon had missed fully appreciating them.
    “Now that’s not nice,” he taunted, wagging a thick finger. “I thought we were friends.”
    Max bared his teeth and seemed to grow even taller, if that was possible. Elyon arched a brow and just…admired him. Yum, yum. Did the male know just how Pantera he looked at the moment? Probably not. But it was hot as hell. Like the stuff of dreams.
    Very wet ones.
    Oh lordy, what was she going to do with herself? This was the asset, due back to Raphael ASAP—and she’d as good as marked him.
    Cerviel was going to mock her ass for eternity, and Ram…well, he’d never forgive her.
    “I don’t have friends,” Max warned.
    “That’s true.” Idiot Two strolled closer. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t share.”
    Max just shook his head. “I’d really advise turning around and walking away.”
    Idiot One stepped up next to his friend. “You might be Victor’s current pet, but you can’t beat both of us.”
    Elyon was so done.
    She’d watched men like this bully and terrify women her entire life. There were few things she enjoyed more than teaching them how to act like gentlemen. And…if she was going to admit it to herself, there was the annoying fact that they’d interrupted some lip and tongue action that she would’ve really liked to have explored further.
    “You want a taste of me?” Elyon asked them in her sweetest voice.
    Eyes widening, it was Idiot One’s turn to share his version of the crotch grab thing. Really, she should just kill him for that alone.
    “Oh, I’m going to have more than a taste, sweetheart,” he drawled.
    Elyon rolled her eyes before