“All complaints are routed to me first.” Amusement laced his voice, but there was nothing amusing about the iron-hard length of his shaft pressing against her lower back. “Shall I tell you just how quickly I’d delete that particular e-mail?” He inhaled her scent slowly. “How long do you think you’d delay sending it? Long enough to bring yourself to climax while imagining me between your thighs, filling you, driving you to release?”
Heat flushed her body, raced through her system and left Gypsy fighting for a semblance of common sense. Because he was right. So right. The second she slipped into her bed she would be reaching for one of the intimate toys she kept on hand to take care of the ache growing out of control and flooding her body.
Good Lord, Breeds and their effect on women should be outlawed.
“No one could accuse you of being humble,” she snorted, pulling away from him even as she acknowledged that he was letting her pull away from him. “Or polite.”
He wasn’t releasing her because she was forcing him to, or because he had any constraints against making her retain that place in his arms. He was releasing her only because it was what he wanted to do.
She turned to him slowly.
“Before you make the mistake of spouting all that womanly ire I feel building inside you and demanding I keep my dirty Breed paws to myself—”
She had to laugh at the irritation that flashed in his deep blue eyes.
“Strange women you run with there, Breaker,” she snickered. “It’s not the paws that offend me. It’s the arrogance and the attitude. I don’t like being handled, by anyone. Don’t do it, and we’ll just keep getting along fine. How does that sound?” She had to laugh at him then, because he really did have the power not just to burn her alive with lust, but to also make her laugh. He charmed her, and she hadn’t been charmed in a damned long time. “Do you often listen to the womanly ire, then?”
“I believe Breeds listen often when they can’t smell the sweet scent of all that female honey spilling like hot syrup on a summer day,” he retorted, his tone echoing with a sense of impatience. “I’ve yet to understand why women believe lies are so very important when they’re most often more eager for a man’s touch than they let on. The moment you obey them, disappointment has a tendency to mar the delicacy of their scent while they then become angry that you obeyed them. And that only makes for a horny, irritated, not to mention confused Breed.”
“Because a man’s ego, or a Breed’s, doesn’t need to be fed?” she asked, her eyes widening for effect at his obvious confusion. “Maybe we want you to work for what we have to give you? We do tend to believe we’re worth a little effort, you know.”
It seemed Breed males, just like their counterparts, the human males, could be so incredibly obtuse when it came to women.
“Breeds can smell their lies,” he pointed out. “What’s the point in lying when one will be so easily caught in the lie?”
Yep, obtuse.
But it wasn’t the first such conversation they’d had over the past eight or nine weeks. Though it was the first time he’d approached her as blatantly as he had in the bar, and before she’d managed to get into her vehicle.
“Perhaps most women haven’t watched those little documentaries the Breeds put out close enough.” She had studied them for months. “And there could be the fact that even in those documentaries, there’s very little layman’s language. There’s also the fact that you had to have used the most incredibly gorgeous, dangerous-looking, deep-voiced male Breeds living to narrate them. I suspect those Breeds were used in an attempt to distract us just as you meant to. The same can be said for the females used in those videos. The only intent in them was to fool the suspicious and to draw the unwary even deeper beneath your spell. Besides, women absolutely love ice cream, cake and chocolate too. Doesn’t mean it’s good for us, or that we eat it without first considering the calories it contains.”
She’d already known this Breed didn’t like games, nor did he believe in the chase. That was really too bad, because she was very experienced in playing games.
She was considered an expert at them, sometimes.
He only grinned at the accusation, those laser-bright blue eyes holding her gaze, encouraging her to sink beneath the waves of hunger she could feel beating at her resistance. “And did those videos draw you deeper as you denied yourself your favorite sweets?”
Leaning against the side of the vehicle, Gypsy crossed her arms over her br**sts as she smiled back at him, shaking her head at the fact that men could be so hardheaded. She was very well aware of the fact that her position only plumped the curves of her br**sts higher over the vest-style top she wore, drawing his attention. Momentarily anyway. She liked that about him; he didn’t leer, despite the fact that she could almost feel his need to touch her.
“Sorry, Commander, they didn’t fool me. And my chocolate and ice cream doesn’t wake me up in the mornings, bitch at me for not cleaning, cooking and waiting on it hand and foot or leave dirty clothes lying around my house, so yes, I enjoyed it immensely.”
His lips tilted into a half grin as he watched her closely while tucking his thumbs into the band of his pants, as though trying to find something to do with them besides touch her.
He stood, his feet braced slightly apart, muscular body not exactly relaxed, but neither was he poised for danger. Dressed in the black mission uniform most Breeds wore whenever in public, he presented a dangerous male allure.