Breeds: Stygian's Honour Part 12

Her eyes jerked upward, becoming locked with his as his arms remained braced at each side of her, his gaze intent as he watched her closely.

"The scent of your arousal is about to get us both in a h.e.l.l of a lot of trouble."

Her eyes widened, because he was close enough that she could feel his erection press- ing against her stomach. As her gaze dropped, she watched the blood pound in the 170/862.

vein at the side of his neck as a trickle of perspiration eased along the strong column.

She had to lick her lips.

G.o.d, she wanted to taste him.

She wanted to bite his neck. Just sink her teeth into that tough hide and hold on tight as he rode her- A shudder tore up her spine as aching need surged through her core. Her juices spilled, coating the suddenly sensitive folds and heating her c.l.i.t further.

"Do you know what I can smell, Liza?" The sound of his voice was definitely a growl.

She shook her head slowly.

His head lowered until his lips were caressing her ear. "If the scent of summer heat was addictive, I'd be worshipping at your p.u.s.s.y for life."

She jerked away from him, breaking from his hold with an ease that a.s.sured her he had simply let her go.

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Staring up at him, Liza told herself she was certainly insulted at the crude language, though she couldn't make such an asinine statement pa.s.s her lips.

"I refuse to become a summer f.u.c.k for you," she informed him, wondering exactly how much trouble that particular falsehood would get her into if she ever had to face her sins. "So you may as well leave now and stop hara.s.sing me. I a.s.sure you, I'm not enjoying it."

He chuckled at the so-obvious lie. And she knew he could sense it as easily as he could sense the building arousal coursing through her body.

"You're as beautiful lying as you are telling the truth," he told her, amused. "But, in this case, I could definitely satisfy the truth if you were of a mind to face it."

Liza tugged at the hem of her blouse be- fore crossing her arms beneath her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and attempting to glare at him.

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"This is not a complication that I need in my life," she finally told him as she tried to inject some semblance of determination into her tone. "You are not a complication I need in my life."

"Thankfully, life enjoys throwing us a few curveb.a.l.l.s then," he stated, a hint of laughter urging her to meet his gaze once again. "Because I think I'm definitely enjoying the complication I know you're going to be.

Come on, Liza, give me a try. You might en- joy me. It's just a ride on the back of my mo- torcycle. Nothing more."

At least he hadn't come right out and asked her to ride him.

She didn't dare allow herself to consider that. She was too weak in the face of his flirting, in the certainty that he would rock her little world.

There was nothing more certain to under- mine her determination than allowing her- self to admit any weakness at all to him. He 173/862.

was a Breed, and she was certain all that Breed-driven testosterone and dominance would be sure to test her will.

From what she'd seen between her friend Isabelle and her new lover, Malachi, Breeds enjoyed nothing better than pushing the wo- men they called their "mates" into fits of an- ger or arousal.

As though it were some prerogative they had invented themselves.

"I don't need this particular curveball either," she a.s.sured him as she moved to leave the kitchen.

Instead, she found her arm gripped by his big hand as she was swung around and once again pressed against the cabinet.

Held there, captured between his hard body and the wood cabinet behind her, there was really no true escape.

No escape from him, or from the arousal burning through her v.a.g.i.n.a and clenching her womb.

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"This curveball is going to be unavoid- able," he a.s.sured her as she stared up at him, feeling the blood rushing to her nipples, her c.l.i.toris, and then surging in excitement back to her overworked heart.

"Few things are unavoidable, Stygian," she a.s.sured him, thought it was all she could do to keep her tone even and confident.

The even part, she was a little weak on.

Come to think of it, she might have been a little lax in the confidence department as well. She was getting really good at the resigned part, though.

Resigned to the fact that the need was growing.

Resigned to the fact that there was no avoiding it.

h.e.l.l, resigned to the fact that soon, very soon, she would be begging him to f.u.c.k her.

Watching, her heart racing, her breathing uneven, Liza parted her lips as his head lowered, his lips almost touching hers, so 175/862.

close she swore she could feel the warmth of them caressing her softer curves.

"I don't want your kiss until I'm certain the sheer antic.i.p.ation of it will make me crazy."

"Breeds are already crazy," she promised him, her voice weak enough now that she was mentally cursing herself for it. "So don't try to blame that one on me. And you can just keep antic.i.p.ating, because I'm rather in- clined to keep my kisses to myself."

Yet she was tilting her head to the side to give him greater access to the lobe of her ear as she felt his lips brush against it.

"You don't know what you're tempting."

The rough, primal sound of his voice had her heart skipping a beat before racing double time.

"Let me go and it won't be a problem," she promised him, even though she knew from the bottom of her soul that the last thing she wanted was for him to release her.

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The last thing she should do was remain there in his arms-not when she wanted his touch like she had wanted nothing in her life.

And that thought, so shocking, so terrify- ing, had her forcing her hands to push at him rather than simply absorbing the heat through his shirt, into her flesh.

"Letting you go isn't so easy, Liza." His lips moved lower, brushing against her neck, in-tensifying that arc of sizzling sensation from her neck straight to her nipples, then to her c.l.i.t.

Liza forced herself to drag in a deep breath, only to find her senses infused with the scent of midnight and forests. And there wasn't a single d.a.m.ned forest anywhere close. Which meant it was the scent of the Breed holding her that was tempting her with the lush, sensual scent.

"Make it easy." Forcing the words to her lips was harder than she had ever imagined 177/862.

it would be. "Let me go, Stygian, because this isn't what I want."

He stiffened against her.

Oh G.o.d, if he didn't listen to her soon, she was going to be begging him to kiss her, to touch her, to f.u.c.k her right there against the kitchen cabinet where her friends could walk in at any moment.

"Liza, there's a strange cycle in the drive- way. Do you think it's-Oh-" Chelsea's voice dwindled to nothing as Liza jumped in guilt and tried, once again unsuccessfully, to push Stygian's broad form away from her.

Her head turned, catching her friend's shocked expression as she stood frozen in the patio doorway. It was as though she was unable to tear her gaze from the sight of Liza held so close to Stygian's much larger body.

"Close your mouth, Chelsea," Liza ordered irritably as she pushed at Stygian again.

"He'll let me go or I'm going to see how much damage I can do when I start driving 178/862.

my knee into certain parts of his body." She shot him a decidedly threatening look with a tight smile as she tensed her knee in preparation.

His lashes lowered again, that wicked "f.u.c.k you" look spearing straight to her core and clenching her womb in an exquisite need that nearly stole her breath.

She was going to leave with him. Liza knew she was.

She was simply too weak, and she wanted to be close to him, wanted to tempt her own destruction too desperately.

Emotional suicide.

That was what it was, emotional suicide, and she was helpless against the voice whis- pering inside herself to just go for it. To take it. To tempt fate. To tempt destruction.

To tempt a Breed.

"I'm going out for the morning, Chel," she told her friend as her gaze locked with 179/862.

Stygian's once again. "I'll have my phone on me if you need me."

If Cullen called and plans changed or if Ashley, Emma, Chimera and Shiloh decided to arrive earlier than normal.

But would either of those things really matter?

Because it was the job of the Navajo Breed Underground Network to find her first, and to offer her asylum.

That was her job, and if this Breed had in- formation about how to find the two women and the Bengal Breed they were searching for, then perhaps it would help her to find them first.

"You're going with him?" Wide-eyed and a little too amused to suit her, Chelsea asked the question with artful innocence. "On the back of a motorcycle?"

Yeah, Liza could clearly understand her friend's confusion. Liza had always refused 180/862.

to ride in even a convertible because of the accident she'd been in as a teenager.

She'd almost been a wild child, she and Claire both. The first time they had slipped out and taken Joe Martinez's car for a joy ride had been their last, though. Being a wild child was stopped short when Claire lost control of the car and went careening over a desert cliff, nearly killing both of them.

A motorcycle had always been out of the question.

Until Stygian.

"I'll change clothes." Giving him one last look, Liza turned and left the room, wonder- ing rather desperately if she had somehow lost her mind.

Stygian watched her go, a smile wanting to tug at his lips as Chelsea eyed him warily.

He could sense the questions she wanted to ask, and he sensed her hesitation.

"Liza doesn't ride motorcycles." Propping her hand on her hip, she frowned up at him.

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"It appears she's in an adventurous mood today then." He could sense that about her, her need to reach out and do more, to live dangerously.

There was a courage inside her that she didn't allow the world to see. The only ones who saw it were the team she worked with in the Navajo Underground.

He knew of the Underground. Jonas knew of the Underground.

The organization had, and on occasion still did, rescue Breeds from high-level Genetics Council labs and advanced security experi- mental facilities for more than a century now.

That was about the extent of the informa- tion they had. Despite the Breeds the Bureau had in place to investigate the organization and identify its members, so far the only sus- pected member was Liza. And only because it had been painfully obvious that she was 182/862.

doing more than taking a nice little run when John Malcolm had moved in on her.

"She's not in an adventurous mood,"

Chelsea shrugged as she leaned against the door frame. "You're bewitching her, just like Malachi Morgan did with my sister. Breeds should be shot for stealing a woman's will and common sense as you do."

That was pretty much why the Alphas re- fused to verify the tabloid rumors of mating heat.

That was exactly how it would be seen-as a form of rape or mesmerism.

"And does your sister believe she's been bewitched?" Arching his brow, he kept his tone tinged with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Her sister believes in happily-ever-after and the man she's in love with." It was Liza who answered his question as she stepped from her bedroom.

She was dressed in jeans that cupped and loved her delectable a.s.s while giving her a 183/862.

leggy, exotic look. The white cotton top was sleeveless, tiny straps holding it in place, and he was betting the bra she wore beneath was strapless.

She was wearing one, as much as he hated the thought of it. He could see just the faintest outline of it beneath the material of her blouse.

"Then there you go," he commented to the answer she gave to the question he had asked Chelsea. "All's well, because I know for a fact Malachi is dedicated to Isabelle."