“Not yet.” She closed her eyes, fighting her tears, fighting her body.
It was her body, dammit. It had a mind of its own lately and it was killing her.
Callan watched her a moment longer, then with a sizzling curse stalked from the room again. Merinus sighed, her breathing rough now that he was no longer in the room. She couldn’t control the soft whimper that escaped her lips. She was only thankful the television masked the sound.
She was breathing hard, fighting to draw air into her lungs as her inner flesh clenched, demanded relief.
Her clit actually throbbed and her nipples were torturously hard, aching for the warmth of his mouth. Her hand moved, her fingers running over the hard points lightly, her body trembling at the incredible pleasure the action brought her.
Her head ground into the pillowed headrest. She felt her juices pool between her thighs. Suppressing her groan, she sat up on the couch, bracing her elbows on her knees as she raked her fingers through her hair. Her fingers dug into her scalp. She shivered again. Even that tiny pain was exciting.
She could control this. She took a deep breath, reining in the madness that threatened to whip through her. She could make it. Self-control, that was all it took. If a person could get through drug withdrawal, surely she could get through Callan withdrawal. It was just a matter of controlling the urge. That was all.
She nodded firmly. The action shifted her shirt again, raking her sensitive nipples and she bit her lip to hold back her moan.
Something cold to drink. One of Callan’s beers. Hell, he had a whole fridge full. She stood to her feet, a shudder working over her body as her panties pressed against her clit. Oh Go
d, she was going to come from thong friction alone. She was pitiful.
Stepping carefully, she moved into the kitchen and jerked one of the beers out of the refrigerator. She twisted the cap, hearing the faint hiss. She turned the bottle up to her mouth, taking a long, cold drink.
Then she held the frosted bottle between her breasts, taking a deep breath as she leaned against the appliance for support. This was bad. Really bad.
“Where’s Callan?” Sherra stepped into the kitchen, her eyes narrowed as she watched Merinus drink from the beer.
“In bed.” She would have shrugged if she could have handled the sensation of cloth rasping over her breasts.
“How long since he fucked you?” Sherra asked bluntly.
Merinus rolled her eyes. “Long enough to suit me.”
Yeah. Right. Not in this lifetime.
Sherra’s lips firmed.
“It’s not a good idea to deny this when it’s so strong, Merinus. You know how bad it gets.” Sherra moved to the sink, pouring herself a glass of water and drinking it quickly.
“How would you know?” she bit out. “I don’t see you crawling all over some man trying to get off.” Sherra looked away, her expression cool, but a glimpse of tormented eyes filled Merinus with remorse.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, Sherra. But it’s my body, my decision,” Merinus bit out, then tipped the bottle up and finished the beer. It wasn’t enough. She needed something to chill her out now. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed another.
She popped the lid quickly and took a long drink.
“Dangerous, Merinus.” Sherra walked toward her, frowning at the drink. “We don’t know how alcohol will mix with this chemical reaction between you and Callan.”
“Guess we’re about to find out then.” Merinus laid the bottle along her temple. It was cool and comforting against her flushed skin. “Can you turn the a/c down a little further, Sherra?” She asked. “It’s hot in here.”
She closed her eyes, the appliance now supporting her as she breathed heavily. It was stifling, and only growing warmer.
“It’s not the a/c, Merinus,” Sherra told her, her voice quiet. “It’s the reaction. The withdrawal. You need to go to Callan.”
“I can control this,” Merinus said, more to convince herself than Sherra. “It will just take time.” She took another drink of the beer, finally feeling the effects of it beginning to penetrate the haze of lust.
Mating frenzy, what a hell of a name to call it, she thought. She had never seen her damned cats act this way. They screamed and squalled and got it on and then were done with each other. This was ridiculous.
“Merinus, the alcohol could have severe affects—” Sherra began to caution her.
“So could sex with Callan,” she argued. “For God’s sake, Sherra, his little soldiers are counteracting the contraceptive you keep poking in my arm. His sperm is changing and becoming normal, and only God knows when I’ll start ovulating, if I’m not doing so on a daily basis. I do not want to end up pregnant by a man who doesn’t love me or need me other than to scratch some fucking chemical itch that’s developed between us. Why can’t you guys understand that?” Merinus could feel the anger raging inside her now. It did this before. She remembered that. That day in the lab, when Sherra and the doctor wouldn’t stop touching her, poking at her. She eased over to the table and sat down. The pain had come next. Great blinding waves of erotic pain that left her weak and gasping. Then Callan had kissed her. The taste of him, male and spicy, so hot, had made her crazy to beg him to fuck her. But it had eased the terrible craving. Maybe all she needed was a kiss?