by Mari Carr
To her shame, she found herself getting up and placing her hand on his chest. “I…” Her breath was heavy as she tried to formulate her need into coherent words. It took all her willpower not to throw him down and take him. Mine, a voice cried in her head. “I don’t want to hurt you, Ian, but it’s this or…”
He must have seen something in her eyes or heard the desperation in her voice, because he placed a finger over her lips, and then replaced it briefly with his mouth. “Whatever you need, Benie.”
She needed it to be mind-numbing, balls to wall, no messing around sex. Otherwise, her other instinct—the one that wanted to hurt Ian—might take over. “Fuck me, Ian. Don’t hold back.” She couldn’t believe the words falling past her lips, but the passion she saw in his responding gaze made her not care.
Ian shoved Benie against the wall, his lips moving with hers, only parting long enough to strip her shirt over her head and press his chest to her bare flesh. He cupped her breasts as his mouth went from her lips, to her neck, kissing and licking over her skin.
This was an aggressive Ian, an almost feral Ian, and Benie didn’t only need more, she wanted more.
“Your shoulder,” Ian said, tracing the bite mark from her incubus kill. It had mostly healed. The puffy flesh was much like Ian’s healing wounds. Maybe she had healed him somehow.
“Don’t stop,” she said, her voice thick.
“I’m not planning to stop.” He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. She watched the way his lean muscles moved when he walked. He was tall with a thin frame, but had she noticed how little body fat he had before? Somehow, with his messy wet hair, the drying blood on his skin, and his aggressive expression, it made him seem hyper-masculine, almost caveman-like. The look of possession in his eyes when he stared back at Benie added to his virility.
She began to think she wasn’t the only one with a lust that needed satisfying. His body was devoid of hair except for a pleasure trail leading to the short curly brown patch framing his erect cock.
Benie licked her lips, eager to taste him, to have his rigid length in her mouth. He leaned over to kiss her again, but she pushed him down to the bed. “Not yet,” she said, moving so that her face was in line with his groin, hoping this wasn’t a huge man-eating mistake. But she might not get another opportunity once this, whatever this was, was over. “I want to suck you.”
Placing her hands on the outside of his thighs, she twirled her tongue over the thick tip. Every caress of her mouth brought new noises from his throat, some whimpering, some primal, but each one charging Benie’s lust. Sucking and licking, she admired the firm, smooth shaft that slipped like silk between her lips.
She cupped the loose sacs of his testicles, drawing him deeper into her mouth, rolling her tongue across the distended veins, swallowing hard when the bulbous head hit the back of her throat.
Ian trembled. “I’m won’t last if you keep doing that.” He gripped her head, forcing her to look up at him. “I want this to last.”
Her body tightened as Ian flipped her over and crawled between her legs and kissed up her thighs. She shivered, gooseflesh rippling her skin, as he tenderly parted her folds with his lips. He stroked his tongue, first into her wet heat, and then, unhurried, dragged it up to her clit. He sucked in the engorged nub, teasing the pulsating core with licks and flicks that made her pant with pleasure. Her hips raised against his face as he drove her to the brink of orgasm, but she held on. Like Ian, she wanted this experience to last.
Grabbing his hair, she yanked his head up. “Get up here. I want you fucking in me now.”
Ian growled, and the sound startled Benie. Her body sizzled with pleasure when he kissed the crease of her thigh, then moved to her belly, and up the length of her body. He explored her breasts, laving and sucking, giving each one careful and individual attention until both nipples were tautly erect.
Her eyes widened as heat poured through her, creating a persistent throbbing between her legs. “Goddamn, Ian. You’re good at this.”
His lip curled in a smirk. “You think I’m a nun?”
Well, no. Yes. Maybe. She didn’t want to even think about where he learned his tricks. The idea of him fucking someone else jabbed her guts with an ugly sharpness that Benie didn’t like. “’Nuff talking.”
His fingers slid into her slick heat as he conquered her mouth with a kiss that could slay any beast. He thrust his tongue past her parted lips with the same expertise he used to penetrate her sex, and with a savage passion drew her tightly against his body as he worked himself in and out of her.
A familiar tingle, along with pressure, mounted in her groin. She was going to come, and she wanted him in her when she did. “In me. God. Fuck,” she urged, yanking his hair to emphasize her demand.
Ian’s mouth crushed her own as he removed his fingers, positioned himself between her thighs, and slid his cock inside her in one smooth stroke. The breath whooshed from her body as he buried himself deep.
“Oh, damn. Hard,” she begged.
Those few words were all the encouragement he needed. Ian leaned back, pushing her thighs up, and he began thrusting in earnest. She arched to take the long length deep inside her. She raked her nails down his back until they rested on his ass. Digging in, she urged him on.
Unexpectedly, the mind-blowing orgasm hit her like an out-of-control freight train with her tied to the track. Her upper body bowed at the jolting pleasure vibrating from her groin to the rest of her body. She cried out in one long blissful moan.
Her climax triggered Ian’s. His head flew back as he quickened his thrusts until a roar of final ecstasy poured from his mouth.
He collapsed on top of her.
The powerful hunger went away as if someone had flicked the off switch, but her passion for Ian persisted.
Benie fought to stave off crying for joy. She’d never climaxed so deep or hard with anyone…ever, and it triggered something inside, reaching down into the dusty recesses of her soul. She didn’t understand why her lust and hunger had been so swift and fervent, but she was glad it had finally forced her to take what she’d wanted for so many years. Though, knowing how glorious sex between them could be, she wanted to rage against all the wasted time she and Ian could have spent together.
Ian wrapped his long arms around her waist and pulled her close. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she told him. “You?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced. She didn’t ask why. Instead, Benie waited until she could hear his soft snoring. Then, and only then, did she close her eyes.
When she woke a couple hours later, Ian lay curled on his side. Sometime while she’d napped, he’d showered again and dressed. He wore a blue T-shirt that brought out his eyes and some black boxer briefs that hugged his lean hips. And he was staring at her. She could tell he’d been overthinking things, as usual. Running scenario after scenario in his mind, weighing the pros and cons, like he often did.
“This was a mistake,” he said. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
His words devastated her. Something beautiful had happened between them, beautiful and powerful, and Ian thought it was a mistake? Fine. She couldn’t force the guy to…to want her. “You’re probably right.”
Ian thinned his mouth in a fine line. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Again, he was a total stupid head. “Absolutely.”
“I don’t want this to change what we are and who we are to each other. You know?”
Benie sighed heavily. Of course he didn’t want anything to change. She was work for him. Mixing work with pleasure could throw off the research. Make it impure somehow. She knew exactly what he thought.
“Ian, sweet Ian.” She patted his face. “We have a dead body in living room. We need to get rid of it before it begins to stink.”
She didn’t want to think about Ian rationalizing away one of the best experiences of her life. Better to focus on a task she could actually do something about.
Ian
pursed his lips and squished them to the right. Something he did when he had news.
“What is it?”
Ian ran his fingers through his hair, his curly bangs falling over his eyes. “I’ve taken the shifter to my lab and put him in the fridge. I’ve never had a whole specimen to study. I’m interested to see if his organs will reveal any new information.”
Benie grimaced. “You are all business sometimes.” Was that what his expression had been about? Or was there something else he wasn’t telling her?
Before she could ask, Ian changed the subject. “Why do you think he came here? Usually these kinds of hominoids are doing their level best to stay away from you. Why did this one seek you out?”
She shrugged. “He wanted to play offense instead of defense.”
Ian raised a questioning brow at her.
Benie scratched her head. “Look. He had a tracker tattoo, which means someone hired him to come after me. I should have known my luck would run out sometime. I probably killed a rogue who meant something to someone important. Someone with enough money to hire a tracker. Those fuckers aren’t cheap.” She smiled. “Not like I am.”
Ian grimaced. “But not easy.” He smiled then shook his head. “There’s probably a dead pizza delivery guy somewhere close. Finding him might be a good idea.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said.
He did the lip-twisty thing again.
Benie sighed. “What else?”
Ian held out a small, rectangular box. “In here are samples from a friend of mine, a marine biologist.”
Okay. So they were done talking about poor dead pizza dudes, unruly asshole shifters, and their fucking awesome sexual mistake. Leave it to Ian to move into science-land so easily, while she sat here with a body still aching for his touch and a heart bruised by his callous words.
“What kind of samples?” she asked.
“Well…” He opened the package and pulled out a case. It contained a variety of microscope slides. “These have various chromatophores from different fish and amphibians.”
He pulled out a stack of the slides. “For example, there are melanophores, erythrophores, xanthophores, leucophores and iridiophores. Each one causes particular animals to change colors to camouflage themselves against predators. I wanted to compare them with the pigment properties in your skin cells and see what they have in common and what they don’t. I’ve even got a few plant samples of chloroplasts. Very cool stuff.”
“You think I might have these chromato-whatsits in my skin?”
“Couldn’t hurt to have a look.” He was barely paying attention to her now, his complete focus on this new project.
“Well, I’d love to stay and play, but I need my beauty sleep.” She didn’t want to leave, much preferring to have an encore of their earlier performance in the bedroom. Like that would happen. It was better to ignore her disappointment and concentrate on the job. “I’ll call around in the morning and see what I can find out about our shifter friend. Maybe one of my informants will know something.”
She categorically wanted answers, and she wanted them yesterday. Also, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ian’s inexplicable healed wounds. She wanted to believe her blood was that awesome, but Ian’s explanation didn’t sit right with her. It was too easy. And now that she thought about it, they’d never had a conversation about her healing abilities and whether it might transfer to humans. Then again, she couldn’t claim to have listened to all of Ian’s scientific mumbo jumbo.
The only thing keeping her from completely freaking out was the fact that he didn’t seem that concerned. Could it be possible? Just because she’d never heard of it happening, didn’t mean the possibility didn’t exist.
Ian’s expression betrayed his disappointment. “You don’t want to look at the slides?”
Benie snorted. “I’ll leave the science to the scientist. Besides, once you start, you won’t notice whether I’m here or not.” She suppressed a sigh. It would have been funny, if it hadn’t been entirely true.
“Don’t be like that.” He leaned forward and held out a piece of paper with some writing on it. “Here.”
Benie registered the name written down. Trace Calder. There was also a phone number. “Who is this, and why should I care?”
Ian shrugged again. “I called a guy who knows a guy. He says if you need the inside scoop on the OWs, that’s the dude you want.”
“What makes him an expert?”
“Besides being one of them, and before you argue, hear me out, he’s a mediator between the species. The guy always stays neutral, and I’m telling you this so you don’t think I’m trying to trick you, he’s an HP.”
She could feel her ears warming with anger. Human-passer. Her skin began to shift to the chocolate brown of Ian’s bed, reminding Benie she was still in his bed. Even her hair darkened in color.
“Damn it, Benie. You have to trust me about this guy. He’s solid, and he can help us.”
“Fine. I’ll check him out.” She sat up. “I’m off to my bed so we can both get some sleep.”
He gave her a crooked smile, causing a clenching between her thighs.
If he kept it up, she would forget what she was doing, forget they were only friends. “I’m serious. You look flat worn-out.”
“I’ve got a mom, you know.”
“Gross, dude.” Benie punched his arm. “I’m naked for fuck-sake.”
“Then quit treating me like a baby.”
When she looked at him, she remembered what it was like to be in his arms, to have him hold her, kiss her, come inside her. She’d give anything if he looked at her like a lover. But Ian was good at keeping his distance. “Hush and get to bed, Mr. Einstein. Tomorrow’s a big day. I have a monster to meet, and you have shit to examine, dissect, and all that good, geeky stuff.”
Ian rolled onto his back, but kept his gaze on Benie. “Oh, Mother, you never let me play outside with the other kids.”
“Sarcasm, I don’t need.” And mother to Ian, she didn’t want to be. She rolled off the bed and crossed her arms over her breasts. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Impulsively, and despite their prior conversation, Benie leaned down and kissed him, long and lingering.
Ian blew out a slow breath. “Mom never kissed me like that.”
She threw a pillow at him. “Goodnight, Ian.”
“Goodnight, Benie.”
*
After Benie left, Ian relaxed with a sigh. He’d probably screwed up the best thing in his life. She’d been bitten by a Leiol, and he reasoned if she’d adopted the Jekyll’s berserking behavior, then her lust had been a side effect of the incubus.
Not because she truly wanted him.
That hurt him the most. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing Benie. He was in love with her, and she didn’t return those feeling. But damn if being with her hadn’t been worth it. Benie was worth it. Though after what he’d seen under the microscope tonight, she might end up hating him. Not for the sex, but because of the slide sample he’d taken from the shifter’s blood. If Ian was right about why his wounds had healed, Benie wouldn’t like the result.
He scratched at his left shoulder. It had been itching since he and Benie had made love. The tingling started shortly after he’d orgasmed—which had nothing to do with being clawed by the shifter. Or had it? The skin irritation had been part of the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep. It still itched like a dermatological histamine reaction. Maybe he’d rubbed up against something while they were having sex, but he’d never had an allergic reaction to anything in the apartment before. Putting down the slides, he headed to the bathroom to check it out.
Chapter 3
Benie had called Trace Calder at five in the morning, and he’d agreed to meet with her at his house in the Green Hills sub-division for dinner. During the day, she’d asked around with her own contacts beforehand, and they all agreed—Calder was supposedly the foremost expert in OW crap. She hoped he’d live up to
the hype.
She knocked at the front door of his blue split-level ranch with white trim and pictured the perfect family with two-point-five kids, a wife in a blousy apron, and a husband who wore sensible shoes around the house.
The door is unlocked. Come in, a deep clear voice said in her head.
Benie nearly peed her pants and fell off the porch. And Ian accused her of not being able to answer the door like a normal person! She’d been told that Calder was a telepath and clairvoyant, but hearing and experiencing it were two different things—very unsettling.
She opened the door and peeked inside. The guy wasn’t in the living room. “Mr. Calder?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” he answered, this time out loud.
She could smell garlic, rosemary, and a touch of basil wafting down the hallway. He stood in the kitchen wearing a pair of fitted jeans that hugged a very cute butt and a black T-shirt that looked like it had been painted on his muscular back. He looked tasty, for lack of a better word—not what she’d been expecting. She’d sort of thought he’d look like a gnome—like Dr. Gray.
“What are you fixing?” she asked suspiciously.
He turned around, and she could see he wore a half-apron that said, “Dinner Served Hot.”
Yes, it is, Benie thought before she could stop herself.
He smiled. It made his light-brown eyes sparkle, and everything went squishy inside her…which made her grumpy.
She didn’t want to be having squishy feelings for an OW, especially after what had happened between her and Ian. And what will never happen again, she reminded herself.
“Are you hungry?” Calder asked, carrying a large pan of sauced spaghetti to the table.
The question itself made Benie’s stomach growl. Not very dignified or bad ass. Traitorous belly.
Trace Calder smiled, and she heard his laughter in her head. She pointed to him, and then to her temple. “You stay out of here.”
