Lust

by Lana Pecherczyk

  “Here,” Joe said. He reached past her to open an overhead cupboard. For a moment, all she could see was his broad chest. All she could feel was his body heat. And his scent—deep, masculine, and freshly showered. He pulled out a small cardboard box of paper straws and dumped them on the counter. “These what you looking for?”

  Someone cracked a joke at the table, and a burst of laughter filled the room. She picked up the packet and faced Joe.

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  He gave a half shrug, made to return to the table, but she stopped him by blurting out the first thing she could think of.

  “You’ve changed, Luciano,” she commented with a wry look at his physique.

  God damn, Lazarus. What’s with the pervy comment?

  His lips pursed, he folded his arms, and then gave her ass a pointed look. “You haven’t.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He dodged the straw she ditched at him, barely containing the grin twitching on his lips. “You know what it means.” His expression shifted to a concerned pout. “Maybe you should cut down on the raspberry licorice. Don’t want to cause a split like last time.”

  “That was one time only, and it was because my jeans were old!”

  She huffed, folded her arms, and gave him daggers. Maybe he hadn’t changed. He was still giving her shit about embarrassing moments.

  “My ass is all muscle, thank you very much,” she said, turned her rear, and flexed her perfect globes fitting snugly into her denim. “Go on, squeeze it. Punch it, even.”

  Silence. She looked up to find his expression had gone lax, except for the simmering heat in his eyes as he held her gaze.

  A moment of silent awareness passed between them.

  “I’m good,” he said, still holding her gaze.

  “That’s what I thought. You’re afraid you’ll break your fist on it.”

  His blazing eyes tracked down her body and settled on the curve of her rear in a way that made her heart thump in her chest. Confident Joey was a little hot. It sent her stomach flipping. She tried to laugh off the tension.

  “Next time you mention my ass, Luciano, it better be because you think it’s amazing, or I’ll clock you like that time in gym class.”

  Did she just say she wanted him to say her ass was amazing? Adrenaline surged in her system, leaving her skin feeling itchy and hot. What was she doing? Flirting? She hastily grabbed her straw and returned to the poker table. This new Joe was throwing off every instinct she had about him. The old Joe would never have stared at her ass like that. He’d have laughed off the joke, too. Jesus Christ, she was in turmoil.

  She’d barely picked up her cards when a knock came at the door.

  “You fucking kidding me?” Joe muttered. “Does the super in this building let everyone up?”

  Liza hid her smile behind her hand, but it died when a female voice shouted through the door.

  “Pumpkin, you home?”

  Every person at the table stilled. Brigg’s widened his eyes, then held up his palms. “It’s not my wife.”

  Houlahan, for some reason, patted down his front, as though searching for his wife in his shirt pockets. “Not mine.”

  Tom raised a brow at Joe. “That your missus outside?”

  Mrs?

  Liza scowled at the door.

  “Shit,” Joe mumbled. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t know she was coming.”

  He scraped his hand through his hair before going to the door.

  Liza caught more than one shared stare among the men at the table. They were as surprised as she at this development. She shouldn’t be. Joe had told her he had a girlfriend, a serious one, but somehow, she’d never really pictured the reality of it.

  From the way Joe dragged his feet to the door, she would almost say he wasn’t ready for it either.

  The players at the table tried to continue the game, but no one could miss the bright, bubbly whirlwind blond who pushed into the room carrying a crock-pot. She wore a vintage style flared skirt, a tight top that pushed her ample breasts up, and a ponytail that curled at the end. Bright red lipstick accentuated her thin-lipped pout. Liza looked down at her plain blouse and brushed a fallen piece of raspberry licorice to the floor.

  “Oh, hello,” the newcomer said breathily to the boys at the table. Without skipping a beat, her eyes skated over Liza as though she was part of the furniture. “I didn’t realize Joe would have company.”

  Joe walked stiffly beside her. “That’s because…” He thought better of what he was going to say and shook his head. “Tanya, you should have called.”

  “Nonsense, sweetie. I just wanted to bring some nutritious food for you to eat. God knows you don’t feed yourself properly. I mean, look at this junk. Raspberry licorice for dinner?” She rolled her eyes, then helped herself to the cupboard where the plates were kept. “But there’s plenty for everyone.”

  Liza slowly dropped the stick of red that had made its way to her mouth with an “Oh-my-God” face shared with the boys. When she looked up, Joe glared at her.

  She jumped up to cover her bad manners. “Joe, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  “Tanya,” he said through gritted teeth. “This is the crew I used to work with at the CCPD. Guys, this is Tanya.”

  What kind of introduction was that?

  Tanya smiled at them all, a little too sweetly. Liza wiped her palms on her thighs and then strode into the kitchen where she could better assess the new arrival. Tanya’s jaw was tense, her nails were pointed, and her hair smelled like hairspray.

  “Liza,” Joe warned under his breath, but she just shot him a tight smile.

  “You’ve been dating this woman for two years, and that’s the introduction you give?”

  “Two years?” Tanya’s laugh tinkled as her fond gaze landed on Joe. “That’s so sweet, honey, that you’re thinking of us long term.” She leveled a more serious expression on Liza. “It’s only been two months, but I feel like it’s been forever too. Next stop, marriage, right?”

  She patted Joe sweetly on the jaw. He refused to meet Liza’s gaze.

  Two months?

  “What did you say your name was again?” Tanya asked, blinking innocently.

  She’d heard Joe speak before, surely. He was never good at whispering.

  “Liza,” she replied sharply.

  “Oh.” Tanya stilled. Her posture shifted from bubbly to vixen. Liza wouldn’t be surprised if those pointed nails distended into claws. “You’re the Liza.”

  It took all of her resolve not to slap the woman and Joe with a tone and comment like that. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

  “Can’t stop talking about me, hey, Luciano?” she smirked.

  His eyes turned to slits.

  Briggs shouted from behind, “I think that’s our cue to leave.”

  Poker chips tinkled as they were rounded up, signaling Liza should probably leave too, but this was all too weird. Why would Joe lie about how long he’d been dating someone? If this was true, then when he’d told her two months ago that he was in a serious relationship, he might not have been dating at all. What did he do, go out and find a girlfriend, just to prove Liza wrong?

  An icky feeling rolled in her gut, and she tried not to think it was related to guilt, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.

  After packing up the poker, the boys shuffled toward the door, all with their gazes downcast. Houlahan lifted a palm as he exited, saying over his shoulder, “Catch you at work, G-Man. Then we’ll answer those questions you need for that case.”

  He shut the door, leaving just the three of them left.

  “What case?” Liza looked at Joe.

  Anger flared in his expression. Tension sizzled in the air as his gaze darted around the kitchen before landing on the baseball. He picked it up and then collected her jacket before walking back to the door, yanking it open, and shoving her into the hallway.

  5

  Liza stood in the hall,
gaping as Joe handed over her jacket.

  “You know what?” he said. “I’m glad you brought the baseball. Now you can take it back and know that we’re done with it.” His brow furrowed at the ball between them. “It was supposed to mean something else. It was supposed to mean we were on the same team, but that hasn’t been the case for years. You forgot, Liza, that you were the first one to stop taking calls from me. The past two months of playing phone-tag are nothing compared to the years you avoided me while I was with the Feds.”

  He shoved the ball at her chest. She had no choice but to take it.

  “I’m done playing games with you, Liza. We’re done being friends.”

  “Joey!” she protested. “You don’t mean that. I’ve been busy, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, well, while you were busy, I grew up,” he said. “But you got jaded. You got mean. And it’s Joe, not Joey. Don’t make me fucking say it again.”

  Pain cut straight down her middle, from her heart to her stomach, like she’d ripped in two. He turned away. She seized his wrist. An intense electric shock cracked between them, searing from her hand down to her elbow. She gasped, let go, and stepped back, shaking her hand to dispel the sensation.

  Joe pushed Liza gently into the hall and closed the door with a resounding click. The last thing she saw before it closed was Tanya’s smug smirk over his shoulder.

  Liza’s breath became ragged. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer. Her skin went sweaty, prickly, and hot in waves.

  This isn’t happening.

  “No,” she mumbled. She refused to believe Joe had kicked her out, just because… of what? Some offhand insults she’d thrown his way. Absolutely not. He’d always given snark as good as he got.

  There was something else going on. He was lying. He had to be.

  She pulled on her hair. This was too much to comprehend. Joe was her friend.

  A woman’s voice filtered through the closed door and a sick feeling unfurled in her stomach—lust. Tanya’s. A snarl curled Liza’s lips. Heat zipped up her neck. Every instinct wanted to kick down the door, shove her Glock in Tanya’s face, and squeeze the trigger. If she’d actually had it in her hands, she almost thought she’d have done it.

  She shook her head—this wasn’t like the potential trafficker in the alley, this was run-of-the-mill sexy-time lust. There was no threat, so why was she acting all irritated?

  Only one way to find out. A self-imposed stakeout.

  Liza shoved the baseball into her pocket and exited the building. At ground level, she crossed the street, hugged the shadows along the sidewalk, and shimmied up the fire escape ladder on the building opposite Joe’s.

  Screw that bitch. Screw Joe.

  Liza needed closure. None of this made sense.

  Taking two ladder rungs at a time, Liza was on a third level fire escape before anyone had noticed. The night was dark, giving the perfect cover for a stakeout. Liza checked the window of the apartment attached to the fire escape. Both curtains and windows were closed. It didn’t look like anyone was home. Perfect.

  She squatted and kept her body hidden in the darkness between a tall planter and the building. She settled her gaze squarely across the way—at Joe’s. He’d kept the curtains open and the lights on, so she had a clear view inside.

  She wished she hadn’t.

  Tanya had her paws all over him. A hot and prickly sensation down Liza’s spine grew stronger. It spread to the tips of her fingers, and despite the cold temperature of a Cardinal City winter evening, she felt as though she were on a balmy beach in the Caribbean. Sweat itched her skin. She tugged at her blouse and fanned the fabric.

  Joe broke away from Tanya. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to the kitchen. Tanya was locked in place, hands fretting. When Joe turned back to her, he gestured erratically.

  “Oh, here we go,” Liza murmured, suddenly wishing for an audio surveillance kit. “Trouble in paradise.”

  Something squeaked at her feet. A brown rat leaped onto the platform and scampered over Liza’s boots.

  “Shoo.” She shoved it away with her hand. Gross.

  Joe’s argument was getting heated.

  He paced across the floor behind the couch. Tanya was doing that thing where you look at the ceiling and shake your head. Disbelief. That’s what it was. She wasn’t accepting what Joe had to say.

  Squeak.

  Another rat scampered onto the fire escape.

  “Piss off, rats.”

  The next time Liza looked up, Joe and Tanya were kissing.

  “You see that?” Liza snapped at the rats. “He’s not supposed to act like that. I can’t sense his lust.”

  Liza concentrated. The closer she looked, the more it seemed like the kiss was one-sided. Joe’s posture was stiff and unwelcoming. Liza bit her lip, frowning as Tanya coaxed Joe to the couch facing the window. He reluctantly sat down. Tanya unzipped his pants.

  “Whoa.” Liza stepped back, blinking. “TMI, bro. Too much information.”

  This was getting a little cozy for her liking... she should go... but... she slid her gaze back. She couldn’t tear herself away.

  It was Joe—Joey Luciano. The one friend she’d never felt lust from. The one person who’d been on her team for most of her life. The same friend who’d just told her to look down at his impressive, very hard package. And then he told her to fuck off.

  As Tanya settled in to give Joe the best time of his life, Liza couldn’t stop staring. This was... impossible.

  There were only two explanations. One, Liza was broken. Her sin-sensing was off.

  Two...

  Joe was her mate.

  But he couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Yes, she couldn’t sense his lust. That was clear. But if they were bonded, she’d also have powers. Supernatural powers like her siblings. There was more: her sin equilibrium and tattoo would reset every time she was in his proximity; her hormones would rage and set off pheromones around him so he couldn’t resist her lure. It was a biological response programmed into all the siblings, a safeguard to ensure that when they finally found their mate, they kept them.

  None of that had happened.

  Grinding her teeth, Liza flexed her fists as everything she’d known to be true turned upside down. Joe was getting some... and... Liza’s brow lifted in surprise. Joe wasn’t enjoying it.

  Some sort of sick satisfaction rose in her.

  He’d reclined on the couch, an arm splayed on each side of the backrest, but his bored gaze had focused outside his apartment and to the right. Even from across the street, Liza could tell his attention was elsewhere than the thin lips wrapped around his erection. He looked wearied. Then Joe frowned. His hand pulled something out of the gap between the pillow and the couch. He brought it to his nose, lashes fluttering, and lids turning heavy.

  Was that... was that Liza’s scarf? Her hand fluttered to her neck and found it bare. Yes, she’d left her scarf in his apartment. On the couch.

  Something scampered over her foot. She squeaked and jumped to the side. God damn, it was another rat. She swatted it away with her sweaty hand.

  Ugh. This building was overrun with stray rodents and God-knew-what else. Disgusting. Maybe the rat was a sign for her to leave. This was too bizarre. But when she glanced one last time at Joe through his window, she found him staring back.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

  The expanse across the street disappeared. The woman at his lap faded away. It was just Liza and Joe, locked in a battle of wills. He refused to break eye-contact.

  She should have felt shocked. She should have felt pissed. Angry. Furious. Even numb, indifferent. Why did she care? Why did he care? But seeing Joe in a hedonistic act she’d never thought him capable of stoked a long-denied desire within her. Hot, sweaty, prickly lust curled around her every nerve ending. Her nipples pebbled. Heat rushed between her legs. She plucked her blouse from her damp skin.

  At her movement, a half wicked smile grew
on Joe’s face.

  Who was he?

  She scrambled to the side, knocked the plant, and cursed. Her boot hit something soft. She looked down and gaped. The rats. They were both dead. Pale yellow smoke curled from her palms like mist in a forest. It smelled funny. Poison?

  “What the fuck is going on?” she gasped.

  Then she saw the state of her yin-yang tattoo. Only a few hours ago she’d been so full of her sin that she’d blacked out and beaten a man in a berserker rage. Her tattoo should have been closer to fully black, but it wasn’t. It was perfectly balanced.

  Mate.

  He’s your mate.

  There was no denying it. She wasn’t broken. This yellow substance was her power. She stumbled back, hit the rail of the fire escape, and glanced across at Joe.

  He knew something was wrong, and Liza had the sudden sense of being caught in a trap. As if knowing his prey would flee, Joe pushed Tanya from his lap, and lurched to his feet, eyes luminous and locked on Liza.

  Get out of here. Now.

  She hurdled over the railing and raced down the ladder. Her heart thudded so hard it almost jumped out of her chest. But she kept going. She didn’t look back. She took one fire escape landing after the other, vaulting over rails, landing, launching, and repeating.

  When her boots hit the sidewalk, she dared. She looked up.

  Joe stood with his palm on his window, watching her.

  Liza ran.

  Liza pushed through the big heavy doors of the one place she knew she’d feel at peace—the Cardinal City Cathedral. It was almost closing time, but it was her favorite time. Fewer people. Less sin. More innocence. This was her process to balance the turmoil in her system and, despite her tattoo saying she was fine, she needed to settle her nerves. A few minutes in the cathedral after having too much lust in her system was like taking a cold shower.

  She walked down the aisle and headed toward the front. The only person in the cavernous room was a dark-haired figure kneeling by the prayer candles through an archway on the side. Good. Liza didn’t want to be disturbed. When she got to the front, she slid onto a wooden pew and sat with her fists on her knees, staring up at the crucifix hanging sadly on the wall behind the altar.