"Really?" she finally answered, crossing her arms over her br**sts. "And I gave permission for this, when?" When he raised his eyes to hers, she shivered, a tremor racing up her spine at the intense lust, the pure, driving hunger she saw in those eyes.
She could feel her vagina weeping. The juices were fairly dripping from the hidden flesh. And he could smell it. She watched him inhale slowly, as though savoring the scent of her.
"Pervert," she snapped, frowning as sensuality fully marked his expression. "Fine, you make me hot. You can smell it. Now it's time for me to go home. Thanks for saving the night and all that."
She turned for the door.
"Touch that doorknob, and you'll regret it." Her hand was within an inch of gripping it when she drew back slowly at the sound of his voice. She turned, swallowing tightly at the savage expression on his face as he lifted his cup and finished his coffee slowly.
"Tarek, you're going to piss me off," she warned him, suddenly wary. "The silent He-Man crap doesn't get it with me." He leaned back in his chair, watching her with predatory interest. She had seen glimpses of this side of him, but it had never been focused entirely on her. It had her body tightening, adrenaline and excitement rushing through her.
She was sick. That was all there was to it.
He scratched at his chest slowly.
"Amazing things, genetics," he finally stated with a forced calm that made her think of the eye of a hurricane. This was not going to be good.
"Really?" She lifted a brow, standing close to the door as she arched her brow mockingly.
"Really." He nodded. "All kinds of little things start cropping up, surprising the hell out of you, reminding you that Fate does get the final laugh on all our asses."
Oh, this just wasn't going to be good at all.
She moved closer. The bleak, haunted shadows in his eyes had her chest tightening in fear.
"What's wrong?"
He stared back at her silently for long, tense moments.
"I'm debating something," he finally growled, his voice deepening, roughening as his gaze pinned hers. "I've debated all night."
Why did she have this bad feeling he was debating
something that she really wasn't going to be pleased with?
"Yeah?" She inserted mild curiosity into her tone when every bone and muscle of her body was trained on what was coming next.
"Yeah." He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting over her body with lustful intent. "You've made me crazy for months. I'll be damned if I haven't stood by, amused, curious, letting you razz on me every chance you've had."
Yeah, that one had bothered her, too. He never got pissed. Surely he wasn't getting pissed now?
"What, you want an apology?" she asked him, incredulous.
"A little late, Tarek."
"I couldn't figure out why." He shook his head slowly. "Then, the strangest thing happened. The more I smelled the sweet heat flowing from your pu**y, the more I denied myself a taste of it, the more I started noticing a few changes." She flushed heatedly at the explicit language, furiously chiding herself silently over her breathless reaction to it. He rose from the chair as she watched him warily.
"Changes?" She swallowed tightly as she glimpsed the morethan-healthy bulge between his thighs.
"These little glands along my tongue swelling. The taste of spice filling my mouth. The hunger for you growing by the day until I could almost taste your kiss. And I wanted your kiss bad, Lyra. So bad it was killing me. I wanted to push my tongue in your mouth and make you taste it, too. Make you as crazy for me as I was for you."
He stepped closer.
Lyra was breathing roughly, her hands knotted in the front of her robe as she watched him advance on her.
"Are you sick or something?" She had to force the words from her mouth.
A mocking, bitter smile twisted his lips.