He wasn’t there for the waitress or the information, though. Evidently, he was there to give one fiery little woman a Breed to torture.
Gypsy moved closer, hips swaying, her arms lifting above her head as she moved directly to him. She positioned her legs to each side of one of his, thighs spread just that little bit, her knees bent, hips moving with a slow suggestiveness just above his knee that had lust flaming through his senses.
He swore he could feel the heat of her pussy radiating from between her thighs straight through his mission pants. Hot enough to sear a man’s senses, wet enough to drown them.
And she was indeed wet.
The scent of her sweet juices had his mouth watering, his need to taste her racing through his system.
The tempting little morsel gave her head a toss, a smug little smile tilting the corners of her lips as the song came to an end and the music eased into a slower tune.
“Watch my drink, hybrid,” he ordered Dane across the link as he moved before the lithe little vision could leave the floor.
Hooking his arm around her waist, he stared down at her obvious surprise.
Surprise? What the hell had she expected?
“Are you all tease?” he asked her. “Or is there a woman lurking beneath the promise in those pretty green eyes?”
Her brow lifted, laughter gleaming in her witchy gaze.
“It’s all tease. And furthermore, purr boy,” she drawled—and quicker than a Breed could blink she was out of his arms with a disapproving little frown—“you should know better than to manhandle me. You request a dance from me, you don’t demand. And you sure as hell don’t grab me like a toy.”
And with that little proclamation, she moved away from him with all the haughty grace of an ice princess offended to her last perfect toenail. And completely unaware that in that single movement designed to break free of him, he’d recognized the slightest, well-trained, experienced shift of her hip, shoulder and one delicate foot.
Dane was, of course, rolling with laughter.
Rule couldn’t help but grin as he kept the knowledge to himself. “I believe that might have been a dare.”
Two months of circling each other with wary arousal and she’d thrown out a dare she should have known he couldn’t resist.
“You’re not a Coyote, Breaker,” Dane reminded him, his tone surprisingly pensive. “Remember?”
To that, Rule could only grin. “Sorry there, Dane, just because Coyotes borrowed the phrase didn’t mean Lions didn’t start it. It’s never dare a Breed, not never dare a Coyote.”
Then, aware of the eyes watching him, the human’s amusement, and the intriguing scent he was certain other Breeds were tempted by, Rule followed the scent of arousal that one little Gypsy Rum McQuade left in her wake.
...
Oh God, was she insane?
Gypsy tried to breathe as she strolled across the dance floor to the bar, ordered her favorite beer, then leaned back against the counter and sipped at it. She was all too aware of the fact that Rule had yet to take his eyes off her.
Of course, it never mattered where he found her, he watched her, those neon blue eyes trying to sink into her soul as though he were determined to learn every secret she possessed.
And each time he did it, he made her hot. From that first look two months before across the distance of a crowded bar to the second that he’d strolled to the table of younger Breeds she’d danced for as she felt his eyes on her, searing her. Like a rush of sensation washing over her flesh, the knowledge that he wasn’t taking his eyes off her had her thighs clenching, a damp warmth tingling against the suddenly sensitive, swollen bud nestled amid the slick folds between her thighs.
Dammit, she was creaming.
Again.
Oh hell.
She was creaming her panties for a damned Breed who made her completely crazy every time she came in contact with him. One who wasn’t just making her body crazy, but was now putting out those unofficial APBs on her whenever he had a mind to.
That was just uncalled for.
No Breed should be able to do this to her.
No man, period, should be able to do it.
No other Breed had ever accomplished it.
This Breed should not be able to do it.
What had been mere interest as she avoided him over the past weeks at the clubs and bars where she made her weekly rounds was now turning into full-fledged sexual want. And sexual want was a mighty big no-no in her life.
That did not ensure that she put as much distance as possible between herself and the Lion Breed as he moved in beside her, though. He turned his big body to watch her profile as she stared out over the dance floor, that strange warmth she always felt from him reaching out to her.
“Courageous little thing, aren’t you?” His gaze invited her to laugh, to share the amusement that threatened to warm parts of her that had been cold far longer than he could ever guess.
“Courage?” she questioned him with a hint of disbelief after taking another sip of the beer. God, what was she letting him do to her? She knew better than this. “That’s not courage, it’s disinterest, Rule. I told you before, I don’t like the trouble that follows Breeds like a crazy ex-girlfriend.”
But this Breed made her long to break her exile from the sensual, hungry nature that had risen inside her as she had matured.
“There are times I believe I would prefer the crazy ex-girlfriend,” he assured her wryly, his lips quirking with a hint of bitterness as she felt the rasp of a single callused finger caressing across her bare shoulder. “As for trouble following us, it’s not as though we ask for it.” His declaration pulled her gaze back to him.
His eyes gleaming between thick, black lashes, he watched her, his gaze rich and warm, making her want to press herself against him, to still the ache for his touch that tingled across her flesh.
“No, you don’t,” she agreed with a sigh as the caress disappeared. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have a choice in dealing with the issues that come with you. Because I choose not to become part of that battle.”
Just as she chose the life she led. And that life did not include joining Rule in some fly-by-night affair that would be over as quickly as it began.
“Interesting that you believe you have a choice in who you ache for,” he stated, his voice rasping, his gaze intent now. “I’ll have to remember to believe that one.”
Sapphire eyes gazed down at her, filled with amusement and mystery. The look in them invited her to play, to put aside whatever hurt her, whatever she feared, and just play with him for a minute.
But Gypsy knew better than most the dangers of playing with Breeds. It was a lesson she’d learned one blood-filled night that she would never forget.
“Such pretty eyes should never appear so somber and unhappy,” he observed then, bending his head to her ear to be overheard above the music. “They should be filled with passion and a love of living.”
Gypsy flinched, jerking back from him as she realized how close he’d come to her without her being aware of it.
She was getting too used to him invading her space every chance he had. Her body was damned sure getting too used to Rule doing so.
That was going to have to stop. It was going to have to stop right now.
“Is there a reason, Commander Breaker, that you have taken such an interest in me over the past months?” she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes on him. “Because it’s starting to irritate me and I’m certain you have better things to do.”
He smiled.
Completely male, completely assured, that look was pure, calculated trouble. “Actually, I’m just killing time and trying to keep you in one place before I go off duty here in about ten minutes.” He tapped his ear and the tiny earpiece he wore. A communications device, she knew. “Besides, Control seems to think you must be guilty of some heinous act or two. I believe I might have even heard a few accusations such as breaking hearts and stealing kisses?”