Mannie, for all his bluster and menace, provided anonymously
every month for those in need. A large portion of his charities benefited the
homeless in her section of town. And with her help, they were slowly, steadily,
cleaning up the neighborhood. But it wasn’t enough, not when the Talsons
continued to flood the area with Majesty.
A cart banged into hers and she started.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I…well, hello again.” Her visitor from
earlier in the day stood behind a grocery cart filled with meats, fruits and
veggies. And a ton of junk food. “Fancy running into you here. I’m Luke Drowe,
by the way.”
For all that he worked for the Talsons, this man had so much
charm, so much joy sparkling in his dark eyes, that she was hard-pressed to
remain cold toward him.
“Interesting menu you have there.”
He shrugged and pushed his cart next to hers, as if they
were old friends. “Some manly food for the guys. That’d be the meat and the
processed stuff. The fruit and veggies are for me.”
She felt a slow pull toward his smile and deliberately moved
her cart an inch to her right.
“What?” he asked, as if wounded. “You don’t like bananas?”
She chuckled, unable to help herself. “You’re full of
yourself, aren’t you?”
“Not me. I’m all for laughs and having fun.” His expression
suddenly turned serious. “Now you, I wouldn’t mind being so full of you.”
The shift in attitude threw her, as did the sudden flare of
heat inside her. Her womb clenched and her heart raced.
What the hell?
She stared up into his eyes and watched the silver overtake
the whites, obliterating the irises and pupils until the orbs glowed. “Your
eyes,” she rasped, having seen the same look in Trotter’s gaze while Sheila
pleasured him.
“You are so damn hot,” he whispered and blinked several
times until his eyes returned to normal.
A sudden image of him binding her to a bed with velvet
scarves before he stripped her naked and kissed her,
everywhere
, flashed
into her mind’s eye. She blinked at him in surprise.
He shuttered his gaze. “Reading my mind without an
invitation, hmm? Did you like the velvet straps? Or would you prefer something
in silk?” He grinned, a smile of pure, unadulterated lust that shook her to the
core.
She stammered, not sure how he knew what she’d seen. She
normally had a dampening effect on those with psychic talents. “I—I— What are
you talking about?”
“Nothing. Maybe I’ll show you sometime instead.”
She couldn’t help looking down his frame when he stepped
around his cart, closer to her. The sight of a good-sized bulge straining his
trousers made her mouth water. He chuckled, and she fought her embarrassment as
she focused on her milk in the cart.
“Oh, Tara, we’re definitely going to be spending some
quality time together, I just know it.”
Scowling for having succumbed to his charms when she knew
better, she stiffened. “Keep to the Talsons and stay away from me. I don’t need
your kind of trouble.”
Except she
did
want his kind of trouble. There was
more to Luke Drowe than it seemed. Charming, handsome and funny. Yet he worked
for the bad guys.
She steered her cart away and tried to calm her breathing.
When a man looked as good as that one did and projected that kind of heat, any
woman would be hell-bent on finding a way closer to that mess. As much as she
wished it were different, she knew if she hadn’t walked away just then, she
might have offered him a drink at her place.
A drink that would spiral down a dark path toward sex,
fulfillment and more orgasms than she could handle. Tara had grown up sheltered
thanks to Mannie. The few lovers she’d had had been nice but dull, not very
adventurous or satisfying. What she knew of the seedier side of life she could
attribute to what she’d seen of Trotter in the shipyard, and the vids she’d
snuck from Mannie’s place that he didn’t know she had. The games, the bondage,
the forbidden sex, oral and anal, had contributed to her randy dreams for
years. But fantasies could only take a girl so far.
She glanced back and saw Drowe staring at her as if he’d
like to eat her. She recalled a few of those magazines and flushed, turning
away, knowing her definition of eating and his were more than likely completely
different. Yet she couldn’t suppress a shiver, wondering what it would feel
like. With him. His smooth cheeks between her thighs, his soft lips tasting the
heat of her…
Oh, sweet, we’ll definitely get to that.
She felt him chuckle in her mind but couldn’t get over the
fact he was talking to her—telepathically.
My name’s Luke, but you can call me
Romec.
Then he waved at her and left her staring after him, her mouth wide open.
Halfway home, she realized she’d forgotten to buy herself
any dinner and returned to the store, angry she’d allowed one of Talson’s thugs
to distract her.
“Romec,” she sneered. “Who the hell names a man after a
cat?”
Chapter Four
A week later, Romy still couldn’t manage to get any closer
to Tara Drake. Since running into her at the grocery, he’d managed to
“accidentally” meet her at the local fuel depot, a restaurant downtown where
she dined with her hulking brother, and outside the shipyard, where she just
happened to be checking on her property.
In each instance, she’d given him the cold shoulder. He
could sense her interest vying with her need for self-preservation. She wanted
nothing to do with the Majesty trade, and he couldn’t blame her.
During his brief stay, he’d had fun ridding Port Chase of
the Majesty distributed by Trotter’s rival human gang, the Threaders, in an
equally seedy district across town. What little he accomplished kept more
Majesty off the street, and if he happened to help Trotter while doing so, so
be it. Soon enough, he’d have that asshole up on charges and fired from Talson
Shipping.
The one good thing going for Romy was his new friends. He’d
finagled his way into the Yals’ trust after several harrowing entanglements
with law enforcement and the local pleasure girls. The nights around Daket and
Min had shown him that the brothers weren’t bad men, they just
worked
for a bad man. The Yals needed direction. But not, apparently, around women.
He broke out in a sweat just thinking about what the pair
had done last night. The Yals had a thing for exhibitionism. In their opinion,
the more the merrier. He’d seen enough to turn him permanently hard. Daket and Min
had shared women and taken turns. Cock-sucking, ass-fucking, the Yals
experienced that and everything in between. Their endurance and never-ending
appetite made Romy’s nights sheer hell, because to his annoyance, he hadn’t
been able to relieve his sexual hunger.
Anytime he even thought of letting any of the Yals’
enthusiastic friends satisfy him, he’d imagine Tara Drake. The woman wouldn’t
leave his mind, and he had an awful feeling he knew why.
She consumed him, to such an extent he couldn’t hide his interest
anymore from the Yals. They thought it hilarious he wanted to make a move on
Ms. Unattainable. They’d even put down bets on how long Romy would survive once
Trotter found out about his secret crush.
Crush. He snorted. As if he were a youngster. He had a
hard-on the size of Werfal 6 for the woman.
Tonight, Romy stood in the dark shipyard and watched her
house. His need to see her through the thin walls of that shack she called a
home enabled a new and unwelcome ability. By the stars, he could see through
the brick and mortar construction right to the woman herself.
Romy groaned. Tara Drake in a skimpy tee-shirt, without a
bra, wearing barely there panties only made matters worse. His dick ached. His
psychei
desperately wanted to reach out and touch hers. And the thought of Trotter
getting his rocks off anytime Tara passed by one of her windows, showing all
and sundry those fine breasts, made Romy want to set the man on fire and watch
him burn.
No two ways about it, Romy had entered The Testing.
His
psychei
encouraged him to mate. Now. With
her
.
Christ. Could his life get any more complicated?
A low moan from nearby distracted him, and he noted Trotter
having a hard time paying attention to his latest girl while he stared at
Tara’s home.
The girl worked him over, her mouth and hands pulling at
Trotter’s cock with enthusiasm. Yet Trotter refused to look away from Tara’s
direction, as if willing her to look at him. The bastard obviously sensed her
Otra nature. From such a distance, and in the near-dark, a human shouldn’t have
been able to see Trotter fucking the girl’s mouth.
But Romy knew, as did Trotter, that should Tara look out her
window, she’d catch an eyeful. Otra senses could see and hear what normal
humans could not.
Not wanting to witness any more of his supposed boss, Romy
leaned back into the shadows to let the building block his view of the man.
Except Trotter wouldn’t stand still. The asshole swore and moved, once again in
Romy’s view. Romy might have thought it intentional if he hadn’t sensed Trotter’s
desperation.
He turned the prostitute around, bent her over a barrel, and
yanked the skirt off her to expose a tight little ass. Then Trotter parted her
cheeks and plunged home on a groan. Romy winced for her.
No lube couldn’t be comfortable. But the girl moaned his
name and sighed her pleasure as Trotter took her. The notion that Romy could be
doing the same thing to Tara right now inflamed him. He’d been trying like hell
to hold back and let her make the first move, but the time had come to take control
of the situation.
Using the moonlight to his advantage, Romy called on his
psychei
and bent the ambient light around him. He raced toward Tara’s house, knowing
the others would only see a slight blur as he moved. And since he’d been tasked
to man the view-cams watching her place tonight, he didn’t need to worry about
security capturing his ass on vid.
He skirted the side of the house facing the shipyard, out of
sight of Trotter, and reached up to knock on an outside window.
Tara, let me
in
, he pushed, forcing her to hear him.
After a short moment, the window opened over his head.
“I’ve got a gun,” came a strong reply.
“It’s me, Luke,” he whispered and grimaced at the use of his
false name. “You know, Romec?”
She paused and then stuck her head out the window. She
blinked at him. “What the hell are
you
doing out here?”
He could almost smell the soft rose soap she used. A floral
perfume taunting him to taste and touch that smooth flesh just begging for his
kiss. He growled, “Turn off your lights. Trotter’s over there getting his rocks
off staring at you through your bedroom window.”
She disappeared and the house went dark. Then her head
popped out the window again. “How do you know what Trotter saw? Are you spying
on me too?”
She didn’t know the half of it. If he concentrated, he could
see—through the wall—her shirt riding up, the swell of her breasts visible if
she moved just so. “I’m just looking out for you. Come on, Tara, let me in.”
“This sounds familiar. Is this the part where I say, ‘Not by
the hair on my chinnie chin chin’?”
“What?”
“Forget it. It’s an old nursery rhyme.” Silence. “So are you
going to stand out here all night whispering warnings? I’m trying to get ready
for bed.”
He groaned.
Bed.
“I won’t keep you long. Just let me
in so we can talk. It’s important. You have no reason to trust me, but I’m
risking a lot just by being here. Trotter wants no one around you but him. And
he’s not a man you want to displease.”
She said nothing. He could almost hear her mind buzzing.
“Please. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important.”
More than she could know. Between what the Yal brothers had
told him and what he’d seen and heard this past week, he had enough to nail
Trotter to the wall. The Yals didn’t know it, but he’d stashed an incriminating
data chip at their place, where no one would think to look. Just as soon as he
took Tara to safety, he’d retrieve the chip and turn it in to the authorities.
They stared at one another, and Romy felt his energy graze
hers. The sensation of union was nearly orgasmic, and he strangled on a silent
groan as her dark eyes held him fast.
Then she sighed. “Come in, but be quiet about it. Can you
pull yourself up and inside? My house is elevated.”
He glanced up. The window sat in an odd place in her rickety
house, but he easily scaled the seven feet and pulled himself through. After
dropping to the floor, he righted himself and stared in bemusement at a picture
of Tara ready for bed.
The blood rushed from his head and pooled between his legs.
Fuck
me.
Up close, he could see the details he’d missed before. She’d thrown on
a pair of white high-cut shorts over her panties that matched her thin tank.
Without even trying, he used his
psychei
to see the soft rosy areolas
gracing breasts that would be more than a handful.
So incredibly beautiful.
He had a sudden flashback of the woman in the tub and
instinctively merged the two women together. Fuck, could his luck get any
worse? His control hung by a thread as it was.
“What are you looking at?” she growled and crossed slim arms
over her chest, pulling him from his lust-induced stupor.
“N-Nothing.” He coughed, willing his mind to wake the hell
up and his dick to calm down. Much as he would have liked nothing better than
to crawl into bed with Tara, he needed to fix her situation with Trotter. Every
instinct told him the man intended to move tonight. “Can we talk?”
She narrowed her eyes, nodded and turned. “Follow me.” And
showed him her delectable ass.