"As you know, field rotations usually only take a week, but with the handover...it's difficult to put a timeline on these things.”
The man she had ejected from her bed after one night of sex had turned up like a bad penny and would now be in her life for an indeterminate length of time. There would be no avoiding Ulysses MacKenzie Bodie. She would have to be nice to her temporary boss/evaluator. Nice and professional. Jacob wrapped up his lecture, glaring at the two of them and looking stern.
"Why don't you two go have lunch or something? Get better acquainted," said Jacob, making waving motions with his hand--his way of telling them to get the hell out of his office. Diana hopped up and headed for the door. Mac also seemed to know what the dismissive waving hand meant, and he followed her. She was already well acquainted with this guy and was definitely not going to lunch with him.
Chapter 7
Diana was pissed at being assigned to him. Good. She had sent him on his way, and all weekend, he had to deal with a persistent low hum of agitated lust. Mac hadn't had a full night's sleep in three days. He was in a constant state of arousal and could not stop remembering how he'd lost himself the first time he'd slid his cock into her warm depths.
He had not called a woman so many times within a seventy-two-hour period since he was a boy of thirteen. Diana still hadn't answered nor returned his calls, and it had been all he could do not to show up on her doorstep like some pathetic loser. He did not chase women; they chased him.
Now she once again sat in his truck as they inched through traffic, en route to an inspection at some bar-and-brothel called Woodland Creatures Club. Being her supervisor, even short term, placed him back in the driver's seat of their relationship. He liked this new development. He could tell she didn't want him conducting her field evaluation, but that was just too damn bad for her.
"We would have been there by now, had we taken the Glide." She cocked an eyebrow but didn't look up from her screen.
"I already told you, I prefer to drive."
Plus, he liked the idea of this woman being in his truck again, at his mercy.
She cast him a baleful look, then rolled her eyes.
His field of vision came in handy now, allowing a surreptitious glance at the severe black cassock and leggings all field social workers wore. He was new to this detail but had been told social workers wore the uniform as an armor against the free-wheeling sexuality they encountered when working with their clients. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a neat bun and a blue vein lifted and pulsed on her forehead. Despite the restraint of the safety harness, she held her back a hair's breadth away from the truck's upholstery, almost as if she didn't want to get too comfortable with him. He took in her elegant profile as she seethed and made a show of flipping through her Omni.
Trying to avoid him...how cute. Too bad she had nowhere to go.
"Have it your way."
He knew it was patronizing to think so, but her anger made her fucking adorable. She kept a tight lid on her emotions, something he'd noticed about her before. But this would not do. He wanted a reaction from this woman. He craved it.
An awkward silence stretched between them, then they both spoke at the same time.
"Why aren't you returning my messages?"
"Did you get yourself assigned to me?"
Their words clashed, and they went silent again for a moment. Traffic started, stopped. Started, stopped.
"We should have taken the Glide," she put in. "It would have been faster." She looked smug and superior. Mac rolled his eyes.
"No, I didn't get you assigned to me," he said. "Why would I do that, when you keep ignoring my messages?" Though he had to admit, getting assigned to her would have been a brilliant move on his part. Had he known it was a possibility, he would have tried it.
"We're not moving very fast," she commented.
"So what? Are you obsessed with going fast?" This generated another eye roll from her.
"This is better than the Glide."
She scoffed. "I don't think so. I much prefer public transportation."
He eyed her again. Did she really dislike him that much?
"Why have you been ignoring me?" He worked hard to not let a whiny tone creep into his voice. She knew how to push his buttons.
She had engaged her Omni again, swiping at it as if she had a million messages to answer. He didn't believe for one moment she had any more messages than she had twenty minutes ago when they'd set off from the Bureau offices. She paid such close attention to her imaginary messages, but not his messages.
"I was looking for stress relief that night, a one-night stand," she said finally. "I thought we agreed to that. My life is pretty complicated right now, and I don't have time for entanglements."
"I never said I was looking for a one-night stand," he said, setting aside for the moment that he had, in fact, been looking for a one-night stand.
She cast him a knowing look and rolled her eyes, then feigned interest in the passing street traffic.
"We both had an itch to scratch....and we scratched it. I for one felt great afterward, but that's all I needed. I'm not looking for a... boyfriend."
Boyfriend? Who said anything about being her boyfriend?
Mac watched as her eyes traveled over the inside of his car, the dashboard, the steering wheel, the seat. She made a show of flipping through her Omni again, but her eyes roamed over his hands as they gripped the steering wheel. He caught her scent. The sweet scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, and his cock sprang to attention with alarming speed. His bull knew what he wanted: her.
"What makes it complicated?" he asked. Heat radiated off her skin. Her lips parted, and her breath became shallow and ragged. She turned her face away again.
His groin tightened, annoying him. He did not pursue women--they came to him. He should not be talking to her like this; if he wanted her, he should play hard to get, not throw himself at her. Nevertheless, her rejection intrigued him.
"Answer me. Tell me what you're thinking."
"I..." She cleared her throat. Her words came out husky and dark. "I don't know. I... really just need to focus on my career right now and--"
"Women have...boyfriends...and careers all the time," he interrupted her.
He sounded foolish to his own ears. Boyfriend. Like maybe they were going to the prom or something.
He scanned the traffic and merged into the right lane, looking for a place to pull over.
"It's just that I've had a... setback at work and I need to focus on making up for it. The concubine handover is a chance for me to get back on track."
Her eyes searched his, pleading with him to understand.
Mac had worked shifter security for more than a decade, and while he didn't have direct experience with concubine assignments, he had always heard it was an honor to be chosen for one. This was Diana's career ambition?
Mac swerved, cutting off another driver, and pulled into a strip mall. Diana continued to look out the window as if they were still on the road. He unfastened his seatbelt and moved closer to her until their knees touched.
"Stop avoiding me," he said. His voice rumbled. Her intoxicating scent seemed to seep into every pore of his skin. She made him feel giddy and light-headed.
She didn't move. He watched her chest rise and fall as she tried to control her breathing. She still wanted him--he knew it. He took her chin gently between two fingers and turned her face to his. She had her eyes closed and her eyebrows furrowed together.
"Look at me," he said again. "Open your eyes. Tell me what you were thinking. Tell me what you want." Her scent made him dizzy, it was so strong. It wrapped around him like a cloud. He wanted to bury his nose into every deep part of her and inhale.
She opened her eyes. Even in full daylight, he could barely make out the pupils. Her skin flushed, and she chewed on her full bottom lip. He held his face no more than an inch away from hers. He could feel her relax and press her body into his.
"You st
ill want me, don't you?" He held her face in his hands. She stayed buttoned up at work, officious and by the book, but her face looked so fragile in his hands. Her eyelashes fanned out on her cheeks, and her freckles made her seem more vulnerable. Her eyes bulged, and she shook her head.
"I..." she stammered. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "I think that's the source of your dilemma." He caressed her cheek with one huge thumb. Her eyes closed again, and she leaned into his touch. He felt a surge of male satisfaction.
She still wanted him.
She had ignored his communications for the past few days. She had said she didn't want him. She said their desires didn't matter.
"Kiss me."
It took him a moment to realize it was Diana's throaty voice speaking. Did she just ask him to kiss her? Sounded like it.
His mouth covered hers and he forced his tongue between her lips before she had a chance to change her mind.
Chapter 8
What the hell was wrong with her? Had she really said "kiss me" out loud?
Making out with a one-night stand, who also happened to be her new supervisor, was not a good idea, and definitely not part of her plan to get her career back on track. Yet, here she was, sucking on this man’s tongue.
When Mac's face loomed over hers, she'd been overwhelmed by how attracted to him she still was. Yet her rational mind still wanted to reject him. He pulled back, looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes, then leaned in again. He swept his lips over her neck, planting kisses from the top of her high-necked uniform collar to the curve of her ear. She squirmed and shifted in her seat.
He trailed kisses over her jaw, ending at the cleft of her chin. He brushed his lips over hers, teasing. She swooned and reflexively arched her back. To her horror, the movement presented her breasts to him, albeit covered in the stiff fabric of her uniform. He hovered over her, watching her. Her body ignored her mind's chastisements, and she surged toward him, only to be restrained by her safety harness. She made a move to unfasten the restraint, but he stopped her.
He snaked his hands behind her and plucked at the pins in her hair, letting it loose. His blunt fingers grabbed a handful of her hair and used the restraint to tilt her head to one side, and she stifled a shriek when he attacked her neck again, licking, kissing, and nipping at the sensitive skin. Heat rolled off his body in pulsing waves. Her feet pressed against the floorboards and she teetered on the edge of...she didn't know what.
She couldn't believe how good his mouth felt on her skin. The roughness of his tongue. The wetness of his mouth. She had given over to sensation in a way she never had before except on the night they met. There was something about him that set her skin on fire. She had successfully resisted him all weekend, but now she found she could not.
Then he spoke, deep and rumbling, parting the fog in her brain produced by his kisses.
"You still want me."
A statement, not a question.
Her eyes blinked open, and she gave herself a mental shake. This should not be happening. She could not let this happen. Parked in a strip mall, exposed to anyone who might walk by. Restrained by the harness, his hand in her hair, and the sensual power he wielded, she experienced a queer sense of safety. At this moment, she was his, and he was hers. She shook off this last thought as he bent his head again, homing in on the spot on her neck that she had not known before was an erogenous zone.
In the far reaches of her mind, the rational mind she had come to rely on for most of her life--not the lizard brain now calling the shots--Diana knew she had to put an end to this. She was not at all a prude, not by a long shot, but her firm policy against entanglements with co-workers fought for supremacy over her body's urges.
Her eyes snapped open, and Mac filled her field of vision, his skin flushed with a sheen of lust under his olive complexion. He shifted his legs, and Diana avoided looking at the bulge at his groin. No longer caged in by his massive body, she dug her heels into the floorboards with purpose, unbuckled herself, and pushed him away. She felt for pins to tame and control her loose curls, her hands shaking and face hot with shame at her response.
"I already told you, this isn't a good idea."
He leaned back and stared at her with surprise. She watched with fascination as his eyes, which had been a startling gray-blue at the office now glittered a bright green hazel hue. He ran his hand over his buzz cut and sighed in frustration.
"You seemed to think it was a good idea a few minutes ago. And Thursday night."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. His arrogant expression infuriated her.
She needed to put an end to this. Now.
"Did you know your eyes glow white in the dark?" This came out in a mean rush. She examined his face for a reaction. "And you smell like burning wood?"
He had never mentioned his shifter status before. She watched him pull up short, the horny expression on his face dissolving, processing the fact that she knew about his shifter status and hadn't told him. He slid back behind the wheel with a dazed expression, blinking his eyes rapidly with astonishment.
She watched emotion sweep over his handsome profile. His fury came raging to the surface as he looked at her from the corner of his eye and put the truck in gear. She looked away quickly then, not wanting to see his face anymore. She had said too much. She should be sorry for saying that to him. He adjusted himself behind the wheel and put the truck in drive.
"We've got a job to do, so let's get to it," he snarled. "We don't want to be late."
Her hands trembled as she went about putting her appearance back in order. She had no idea where that came from...she was appalled at herself for saying it. She had been cruel to him, reminding him that he was shifter and she, human. Reminding him that his status placed him on a different rung of the social ladder. She may have ruined the chance of even an amicable working relationship.
Chapter 9
Mac drove and seethed. His stomach clenched as if preparing for another punch to the gut. Diana had the power to crush him with well-placed cruelty. Now her rejection made sense. Diana Miller didn't do shifters.
Most humans could not see his eyeshine when he wasn't shifted. Almost none would be able to scent him as a shifter. Diana had an ability as rare as his own species. It seemed she used her ability to determine how involved she would get with her bed partners. In his case, she'd sleep with him, but a relationship was out of the question.
He kept his eyes straight ahead but watched her re-pin her hair from the corner of his eye. In the bright Texas sunlight, her hair blazed in an auburn halo.
"You're a latent."
Her hands froze in her hair for a moment, then resumed the work of tidying her curls.
"You're a shifter," she tossed back at him.
She might now be regretting her attempt to put him in his place, as she had revealed a secret about herself. A touch of "junk" DNA that in her case, conferred certain abilities that were only useful on rare occasions, but would mark her as "other" if anyone else knew about it.
"I'm a Minotaur," he clarified, surreptitiously gauging her reaction from the corner of his eyes. Was she disgusted with him?
They drove on in silence again, neither of them bringing up their secrets. It was a peculiar sort of intimacy--deep and antagonistic and as overwhelming in its intensity as their lust had been a few moments before. Diana's bottom lip trembled, and Mac thought she looked as if she might throw up.
They arrived at The Woodland Creatures Club, where Diana said she had been conducting her first inspection of the week before her summons from Jacob. Her hair was once again tucked into a neat bun. She looked ahead with a blank expression, and he sighed. He was well aware of the assumptions that surrounded Minotaurs. Violent, unpredictable, and not very smart.
He never hid his heritage...but he saw no reason to advertise it, either.
Outside Woodland Creatures, he watched while she tapped at her Omni screen with tremb
ling fingers, steadfastly avoiding his gaze.
Was she nervous? Good.
The picture windows of the Woodland Creatures Club were as large as those of any upscale department store. But instead of the latest styles presented in a fashionable diorama, the window scene featured a delicate, petite blonde against the backdrop of a canvas forest scene that looked as if it might have been painted by a high school drama club.
The young woman posed on a fake boulder, shoulders rolled back and completely nude. Her small, firm breasts pointed upwards, the pink nipples stiff in the chill of the air conditioning. Her shaggy crop of platinum hair accentuated large, wide-set amber eyes. Nimble legs were covered in downy fur and ended in dainty hooves. Three-inch horns twisted out from either side of the crown of her head, and her pointed ears sprouted tufts of hair that looked like cotton candy. Her legs spread wide open to expose her shaved womanhood.
Diana ignored the woman. The faun's amber eyes slid over Diana with disinterest, but they sparked to life when they landed on Mac. This was all new for him. He was surprised that he didn't find the sight at all compelling.
"Have you ever been to one of these inspections?" She spoke without looking at him, still tapping away at her Omni screen.
Mac said nothing.
"If you haven't, you should know that the clients will try to throw you off your game." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Especially the shifters, and most of the working girls at Woodlands are shifters. I use a pheromone dampener. Some people use spells, but the Bureau only allows you to expense apothecary treatments, not magic."
So, she used meds to keep herself in check on the job. Given her performance in the truck, though, the drugs didn't work on Minotaurs.
Mac grunted. "I'll be fine."
She continued. "Since you're new, they'll try to haze you."
The Minotaur's Kiss Page 4
