Tightening his arm around her back, he brought her closer, luxuriating in the sweet response of her body, the heavy throb of life in the vein at her throat and the hunger he could scent building in her slight body.
The need to cover her, to push inside the liquid heat of her pussy was going to make him crazy.
“Why do you make it your business?” Confusion filled her now. “I’m nothing to you, Mr. Black.”
Oh, how wrong she was.
Stygian stared into the gray of her eyes and sensed something more than the bravado she was fighting so hard to bolster as he held her against him.
“Perhaps I’d like for that to change.”
Liza stared up at the Breed, feeling their bodies swaying in perfect accord, before she was even aware that she was moving in time to his much larger body.
She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. That he’d made his intentions so clear, so quickly.
“And if that’s not what I want?”
“I would find that very hard to believe,” he retorted. “As you said as we left the hotel, it would be impossible to miss the fact that you are very interested.”
“Oh God, I hate Breeds and their sense of smell.” She had to tear her eyes from his, but she couldn’t force her body away from him.
“Come out with me tonight.” It was more a demand than a request. “We could just ride around awhile. Maybe find a nice place to stop and talk.”
Her lips parted to refuse. She couldn’t afford to become involved with him.
Not with him or any other man.
“I brought the motorcycle.” His head lowered, his lips at her ear, the warmth of his breath teasing the sensitive flesh. “The wind in your hair. The night surrounding us.”
“Danger stalking us? A Breed who’s obviously searching for a ghost and believes I could lead him to her?” she asked, incredulous. “How intelligent does that sound?”
“Do you think I wouldn’t protect you? That where I took you I would allow you to be in any danger?”
“Control the world that easily, do you?” She snorted. “Besides, I’m not exactly dressed for a motorcycle ride.”
But he could feel the desire inside her to go with him. To take that chance.
“Talk to Chelsea, have her exchange clothing with you,” he suggested. “Come on, Liza, be brave,” he dared her.
He sensed her need to do just that, to step outside of herself. The animal inside him could feel that need.
That dark, inner core of a woman so locked down, so hidden inside her subconscious that he wondered if even she was aware of it.
“Why me?” The question was whispered against his ear as he bent closer to her, nuzzling her hair from her neck as he moved her around the dance floor.
“Why you?” The rumble of the growl was involuntary at the slender column of her neck as he spoke. “Because I’ve been so hard for you, and only you, for the past two days, that I swear my dick is going to permanently have the imprint of my jeans zipper.”
Her breath caught.
Liza felt the overwhelming need to push her own boundaries, to ask Chelsea to change clothes with her, to slip onto the back of his motorcycle and escape into the night with him.
“I want you, Liza,” he said. “My lips on yours, slow and easy, then deeper. Harder. I want to lick your lips, taste them. Then, I want to taste the rest of you. Every inch of your sweet body.”
Every inch?
Her thighs clenched, her clit swelling, moisture ga
thering between the folds of her pussy at the thought of him touching her—tasting her—there.