Chapter Five
He was nearly shaking with the need to touch her. Tarek stared down at her pixie features, the blood pumping so hard and so fast through his veins it was nearly painful. His c**k was a torturous ache between his legs, the glands at the side of his tongue swollen and throbbing.
His hard-on made sense. The rush of blood was explainable. The tongue was an enigma, and the taste of spice in his mouth confusing. The only thing that did make sense was the need to kiss Lyra.
She had tormented him for months. Tempted him. Laughed at him and mocked him with a gentle, feminine warmth that shouldn't have touched him as deeply as it had.
The smell of her arousal was killing him. It was hot, liquid sweet, and he was dying to lap at the soft cream he knew was spilling from her pu**y. It would be hot, frothy with her growing need, and as rich as sunrise.
"Hell of a choice." Her arms tightened over her br**sts. He knew what she was hiding. The lush curves of her br**sts, her swollen ni**les.
"Make it fast if you don't mind," he growled. The erection was killing him. "Because the scent of your arousal is making me insane, Lyra. Pretty soon, I'm going to make the choice for you."
A whimper escaped her lips as her eyes widened in horror. In shame? He frowned as she paled and then flushed furiously, her eyes brightening as though with tears.
"What?" He caught her shoulders as she moved to turn from him, turning her back to face him, knowing that touching her was the biggest mistake he could make.
"You smell me?" She trembled, embarrassment bringing tears to her eyes as she struggled against him.
He sighed wearily. Dammit, he was too tired, too hungry for the taste of her to watch every damn word he said and every move he made. He wasn't exactly the social sort, and the "rules of polite society" wasn't a class he had found the time to take.
"Lyra." He breathed out roughly, his hand lifting to her cheek, marveling at the silken texture of her flesh. "I'm an animal," he whispered softly. "My sense of smell is so highly advanced that I can detect any scent. Especially the sweet, soft heat coming from you. It's like forcing a starving man to stand before a banquet and not taste the riches."
She blinked up at him, swallowing tightly, her gaze suspicious, softening only slightly as his thumb smoothed over her lips.
He wanted to say more, but the silken curves held his attention, mesmerized him.
His tongue throbbed as the glands spilled more of the spicy taste into his mouth. The blood pumped harder through his veins as his control slipped further.
He lifted his hands from her shoulders carefully.
"The bedroom is upstairs, third door on the landing. Get away from me, Lyra. Now. Before I lose all control." She frowned back at him.
"I don't like the way you make decisions for me, Tarek," she snapped furiously. But, thank God, she began to back carefully away from him. "It's annoying."
"I'm certain it is." The smell of her still wrapped around him, tormented him. "We can discuss it tomorrow over coffee. Now go to bed."
She sniffed in disdain, glaring back at him as she reached the doorway.
"This tendency to boss me around best not become a habit," she warned him again. "Otherwise, I might disabuse you of the idea that you can get away with it. Count yourself lucky I'm letting you off the hook and escaping. Otherwise, you'd be one molested kitty, Jordan."
He could do nothing but stare at her disappearing back in shock as she muttered the heated words. Molested kitty? He groaned at the phrase. Good Lord, the woman was going to make him completely insane.
He sighed in relief, forcing himself to let her go before pulling the cell phone from its holder at his side and pressing the calling pad impatiently.
"Jonas." Jonas Wyatt, head of Feline Enforcer Affairs at Sanctuary, answered on the first ring.
"We have a problem," Tarek said quietly. "I think I encountered our Trainer tonight. Unfortunately, it wasn't me he was after."
He couldn't get the scent of the assailant out of his mind. It was too damned close to the smell of the clothing, admittedly from years before, that the bastard had worn. Not exact, but damned close.
"Explain." Jonas was a man of few words, which was one of the reasons Tarek liked working for him.
"He was breaking into the neighbor's house. Lyra Mason, she's the sister to three…"
"Special Forces agents." Jonas finished for him. "Grant, Marshal, and Tyree Mason. They headed the force that took down some of the main Breed labs."
Tarek closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Did you know she lived here when I bought this house?" he questioned him.
"I knew of her. I hadn't run a full investigation because I saw no reason to." He could almost see Jonas shrug with the words.
"Twenty-four, accountant, lives modestly, a nice little nest egg but nothing substantial. Medical records show a virgin, with all the normal childhood ailments and no police record. I didn't have time to go deeper and had no reason to. Why?" Tarek shook his head. "No reason. I might need to come in soon, though; I think I need a checkup or something." He ran the sides of his tongue over his teeth, feeling a soft warmth spill into his mouth.
"What's wrong?" Jonas was sounding concerned now. About damned time.
"I don't know." He moved to the small foyer that led to the stairs. "Those damned glands at the side of my tongue. They're inflamed and doing funky shit. I swear I taste cinnamon." Silence filled the line.
"Where's the girl?" Jonas asked then. "The Mason girl." Tarek frowned at the question.
"My guest room. Her security system was breached."
"Hell!" Jonas breathed roughly. "Have you f**ked her?" A growl rose in his throat. "That's none of your damned business now is it, Jonas?" he asked silkily, dangerously. "Don't overstep your place, buddy."
"Can it, Tarek," he snorted. "And listen close. This is straight from the old scientist who treats the main Pride members. The swollen glands contain a special hormone. That spice filling your mouth, buddy, is an aphrodisiac. Lyra Mason is your mate."
Tarek laughed. Damn, he hadn't taken Jonas for a
comedian.
"Fine. Whatever." He grunted. "Now tell me the truth." He was going to kill Jonas for playing f**king games with him. He wasn't in the mood.