Fuck, he’s huge.
Jerking my stare up from his erection, I let out a gasp at the battered state of his face. His jaw and lips were as pounded as his body. A deep cut ran the length of his cheekbone below his left eye and also trickled blood.
It was his eyes that messed with me the most, however.
His eyes had always mesmerized me. There was a secret world of danger and violence in them I’d never been able to comprehend. I had even admitted to Mads one night, when we were sixteen and tipsy on my Dad’s secret bottle of Wild Turkey, that his eyes were sexy.
Right now, his eyes looked crazy. Scary crazy.
“Are you on drugs?” I asked.
There were a lot of things about Lucas that made him fall into the bad-boy category, but using had never been one of them.
Lucas liked being in control too much. I knew that.
But his eyes…
He stared at me, his chest heaving, his eyes…
Bright red fresh blood began to flow from his nose, and suddenly he staggered sideways.
“Jesus, Lucas,” I burst out, clawing myself off the bed.
I grabbed at his arm before he could collapse to the ground, steadying him with a flat palm on his chest—right above the tattoo of a raven inked over his heart. “What have you been doing?”
His gaze found mine. For a second, they were as direct and piercing as always, and then they fogged over with what I assume was pain but might be…something else.
“Ronnie?” he mumbled, raising a hand—bloody-knuckled, I noticed—to cup the side of my face. “What are you doing here? I’ll fucking kill them if they’ve hurt you.”
I frowned, alarm bells ringing in my head, my blood roaring in my ears. “We’re in my bedroom, Lucas,” I said calmly even as my tummy knotted. “You woke me in my bed. What happened to you?”
He brushed his thumb over my lips, fresh blood oozing from his nose. “Ronnie. I’ve wanted you since I first fucking saw—”
His eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground.