Breeds: Stygian's Honour Part 9

He could see how she might feel that way after her meeting with Jonas two days before.

"Not so much allergic as merely wary."

Leaning his arms against the top rail of the seatback, he turned his head to her, ensuring she glimpsed the arousal raging inside him.

Two days.

He'd managed to keep his distance for two miserably long days, and he'd had enough.

She was his.

His mate.

She would be his woman.

His world and his life.

If he could convince her to take that chance.

Well, if he could manage to steal a kiss from those sweet lips.

133/862.

It might have been easier if he wasn't aware of the fact that Isabelle Martinez, mate to Malachi Morgan, had already warned her friends of the mating phenomena.

"You're not wanted here, Breed." Klah Hunter kept his voice low, but his tone was nothing if not dominant and filled with warning.

Stygian didn't bother to even glance his way.

"Dance with me." Staring into Liza's eyes, he knew if he didn't have her against him soon, he was likely to end up in a fight instead.

"If she wanted to dance with you, then she would have invited you," Klah snapped.

"This is a get-together for friends only, Breed. You're in no position to apply for the t.i.tle."

"I'm not applying for the position of friend," he a.s.sured the other man-Breed?

134/862.

He didn't bother to explain the position he was after. h.e.l.l, he wasn't picky at this point.

He'd take missionary if that was all she was offering.

Though, he was partial to doggie style.

He was certain that wasn't exactly the sort of position any of them had in mind, though.

"What exactly do you have in mind then?"

Cullen Maverick spoke up as he leaned back in his chair and lifted the frosted bottle of beer to his lips. "Or should I just go ahead and kill you for thinking you can have more than Liza might want to give?"

"Whoa, enough." Liza turned on them all then. "I don't need bodyguards nor do I need anyone to defend my honor."

The four men turned as one to frown back at her.

The air of sudden male dominance had a snarl threatening to pull at Stygian's lips.

His woman.

His mate.

135/862.

He'd never allow another male to order her to do anything. Especially anything in direct opposition to what he wanted.

"They're not telling us the truth in regards to why they're here, Liza, you know that as well as the rest of us do," Klah argued. "He has no business around you."

"Maybe he has other things in mind."

Chelsea grinned then. "Things that are none of your business, Klah."

Liza's chair sc.r.a.ped back from the table, a hint of fear and nervousness suddenly scent- ing the air around her.

"Let's dance then," she muttered as he rose to his feet beside her. "Instead of starting the fight you seem intent on."

"Me?" He almost laughed as she grabbed his wrist. He allowed her to give the impres- sion that she was pulling him to the dance floor. "That was your friends, baby, not me."

The fast, hard beat of the country-western music faded away and as they stepped to the 136/862.

dance floor, the band eased into a slow, sen- sual tune instead.

He caught the little muttered curse as it slipped free of her glossy lips and couldn't hold back a low chuckle as he took her into his arms.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked. Her small hands pressed against his chest almost defensively.

The fact that she felt she would have to protect herself against him, her mate, had him tensing in regret.

Her fingertips were rubbing against the fine cotton of his shirt though, making him wonder if she was searching for the warmth of his chest. That gesture, small though it was, gave him hope that perhaps a part of her knew she could trust him.

"I make it my business to know where you are. And who you're with."

Tightening his arm around her back, he brought her closer, luxuriating in the sweet 137/862.

response of her body, the heavy throb of life in the vein at her throat and the hunger he could scent building in her slight body.

The need to cover her, to push inside the liquid heat of her p.u.s.s.y was going to make him crazy.

"Why do you make it your business?" Con- fusion filled her now. "I'm nothing to you, Mr. Black."

Oh, how wrong she was.

Stygian stared into the gray of her eyes and sensed something more than the bravado she was fighting so hard to bolster as he held her against him.

"Perhaps I'd like for that to change."

Liza stared up at the Breed, feeling their bodies swaying in perfect accord, before she was even aware that she was moving in time to his much larger body.

She couldn't believe he'd just said that.

That he'd made his intentions so clear, so quickly.

138/862.

"And if that's not what I want?"

"I would find that very hard to believe," he retorted. "As you said as we left the hotel, it would be impossible to miss the fact that you are very interested."

"Oh G.o.d, I hate Breeds and their sense of smell." She had to tear her eyes from his, but she couldn't force her body away from him.

"Come out with me tonight." It was more a demand than a request. "We could just ride around awhile. Maybe find a nice place to stop and talk."

Her lips parted to refuse. She couldn't af- ford to become involved with him.

Not with him or any other man.

"I brought the motorcycle." His head lowered, his lips at her ear, the warmth of his breath teasing the sensitive flesh. "The wind in your hair. The night surrounding us."

"Danger stalking us? A Breed who's obvi- ously searching for a ghost and believes I could lead him to her?" she asked, 139/862.

incredulous. "How intelligent does that sound?"

"Do you think I wouldn't protect you? That where I took you I would allow you to be in any danger?"

"Control the world that easily, do you?"

She snorted. "Besides, I'm not exactly dressed for a motorcycle ride."

But he could feel the desire inside her to go with him. To take that chance.

"Talk to Chelsea, have her exchange cloth- ing with you," he suggested. "Come on, Liza, be brave," he dared her.

He sensed her need to do just that, to step outside of herself. The animal inside him could feel that need.

That dark, inner core of a woman so locked down, so hidden inside her subcon- scious that he wondered if even she was aware of it.

"Why me?" The question was whispered against his ear as he bent closer to her, 140/862.

nuzzling her hair from her neck as he moved her around the dance floor.

"Why you?" The rumble of the growl was involuntary at the slender column of her neck as he spoke. "Because I've been so hard for you, and only you, for the past two days, that I swear my d.i.c.k is going to permanently have the imprint of my jeans zipper."

Her breath caught.

Liza felt the overwhelming need to push her own boundaries, to ask Chelsea to change clothes with her, to slip onto the back of his motorcycle and escape into the night with him.

"I want you, Liza," he said. "My lips on yours, slow and easy, then deeper. Harder. I want to lick your lips, taste them. Then, I want to taste the rest of you. Every inch of your sweet body."

Every inch?

Her thighs clenched, her c.l.i.t swelling, moisture gathering between the folds of her 141/862.

p.u.s.s.y at the thought of him touching her-tasting her-there.

"I can't do this." She didn't know if she could allow herself to take what he was offer- ing. The implications of the cost could well be more than she could bear.

She could sense it. Deep, deep inside her- self she could sense the knowledge that by al- lowing Stygian to take her, she would be des- troying herself in ways she never wanted to face.

"No." The music eased away as she sud- denly pulled from his arms, forcing herself away from him as she gave her head a hard shake. "I can't do this. I just can't-"

Catching her arm as she turned away from him, Liza found herself facing a full-grown, dominant, l.u.s.t-driven Breed intent on hav- ing the woman who dared arouse him in such a way.

"This isn't good-bye," he a.s.sured her.

"We're not finished. I came here to spend the 142/862.

evening with you, Liza. And I mean to do just that."

As a fast tune began blaring from the band, Stygian shot the singer a hard glare be- fore leading Liza from the dance floor. The fact that he wasn't pleased with the music was more than apparent.

The fact that he wanted her was even more apparent.

Malachi had warned her that a Breed, once certain that the woman he wanted was as drawn to him, could only be turned away if he knew the object of his l.u.s.t, his affection, or whatever they called it, if her objections were stronger than her need.

Breeds didn't force the s.e.xual aspects, they didn't stalk, nor did they hara.s.s. They charmed, cajoled and teased. They built the hunger and the need until their potential lov- ers fell willingly into their arms.

He'd been a fount of information after he and Isabelle had become lovers.

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Or mates.

A tremble of trepidation skated across her nerve endings as he led her back to the table where her friends waited.

The plans she and the team were discuss- ing before his arrival would have to wait. Stygian was on the prowl and he'd found his prey. He wouldn't be walking away anytime soon.

The problems inherent in such a decision on his part had her stomach tightening with dread. The team had already lost Isabelle due to her relationship with Malachi and her vow to never reveal what she had been a part of to anyone, especially a lover or husband outside the network.

The fact that Malachi was outside the net- work and not approved to be privy to that in- formation had hurt them all. It was a de- cision no one on the team could make though, and permission had yet to be offered.