Slave to Sensation (Psy-Changeling 1) - Page 33

Not much but it was clothing. A pair of low-slung jeans and a faded white T-shirt that defined every muscle on his impressive upper body. Her hormones flickered awake, her body aroused in spite of the terrible matters that lay heavy on her mind.

He chuckled. "I always have clothes accessible in places where I might often change."

"What are you doing here?" Silence blanketed the night, creating a dangerous kind of intimacy.

"Don't you ever undo this?" He tugged at the end of the braid hanging over her breast.

"Sometimes when I sleep." She didn't pull away, almost convinced herself that she was merely pandering to his changeling need for touch, that it had nothing to do with her own desires.

A slow smile spread over that savagely beautiful face. "I'd like to see that."

"I thought you said we stink?" She was still hurting from the blow.

"Most Psy do. You, however, don't." Leaning close, he sniffed at the curve of her neck. "In fact, I find your scent quite... luscious."

It took every ounce of her concentration not to betray her reaction to his disturbing nearness. "That should make it easier for us to continue working together."

"Darling, it'll make all sorts of things easier." The heat coming off his body was a physical caress, intimate and exquisite.

She was intelligent enough to know that he was sexually flirting with her. She'd watched him with Tamsyn, with Zara. He didn't touch either of those women the way he touched her. But what was his agenda? Did he suspect she wasn't what she seemed, or was he merely amusing himself at her expense? "You didn't answer my question."

"I think it should be mine, don't you?" Dropping her braid, he braced himself against the car by placing one arm across the roof. The position put him to her left, standing as she was with the car at her back. He was far too close for comfort but she couldn't move way. "What're you doing in my territory, Sascha?"

The words threatened to get stuck in her throat. "I wanted to talk to you about what you told me this afternoon."

He ran a hand through his hair and her eyes followed the graceful movement. Something told her that he'd be just as graceful while stalking and taking down prey. "You picked an odd time for it."

She could hardly say that she'd been driven by emotions run amuck. "I wasn't actually expecting anyone to be here, but decided to come on the off chance that someone was."

"Someone?" He raised a brow.

"You," she admitted, knowing it was useless to lie. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Bad dreams?"

"No dreams." It was a husky whisper. "That was the problem."

Something throbbed between them, an awareness that shouldn't have existed. They'd never really touched, never really spoken about anything other than business. Yet it was there, a growing, beautiful thing. "Why come here?"

"Instinct," he said. "Maybe you drew me to you."

"I don't have those abilities." It was just another one of her flaws. She was a cardinal without power, a cosmic joke. "Even if I did have them, I'd never use them to summon someone against their will."

"Who said it was against my will?" The arm on the roof of the car reached out to toy with a strand of her hair. "Why don't we go somewhere else to talk? It's unlikely anyone will see us here but if they do, I don't think your mother will understand."

She nodded. "Yes, you're right. Where?"

He held out his hand. "Keys."

"No." There was only so much she'd take and Lucas Hunter was pushing it to the limit. "I'll drive."

"Stubborn." He laughed and walked around to the passenger side. "You're in charge, Sascha darling."

After she'd got in and started up the car, he said, "Take a left on the street."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe."

He directed her across the Bay Bridge and through Oakland. They hit the trailing edges of the wilderness that pressed against Stockton and kept going. The trees grew ever more dense, telling her that she'd entered some part of the massive Yosemite forests. Even with the considerable speed of her car, she'd been driving almost two hours when he told her to stop.

"Are you sure you want me to stop here?" Nothing but trees met the eye.

"Yes." He got out.

Having no other choice, she followed. "We're going to talk here? We might as well sit in the car."

"Scared?" It was a whisper in her ear.

His speed was frightening. He'd moved around the back of the car and to her in the space of a sentence. "Hardly. I'm Psy, remember? I'm simply confused by the logic of this."

"Maybe I've brought you here to do dastardly deeds." His hand rested on the curve of her hip.

"If you'd wanted to hurt me, you could've easily done so in the parking lot." She wondered whether or not to make an issue over the hand on her hip. What would a normal Psy do? Would a normal Psy ever get herself in such a position in the first place? She didn't know!

That hand slid up until it lay against the curve of her waist. "Stop."

"Why?"

"Such behavior isn't acceptable." She coated each word with deliberate calm - it was the only way she could fight what he was doing to her. Unused to sensation, she was close to becoming a slave to it, the fantasies she'd indulged in during sleep leeching into her waking life.

He moved away at once. "You sound just like a Psy."

"What else do you expect me to sound like?"

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