The Wanting (D'Shar Men) (5 page)
Read The Wanting (D'Shar Men) Online
Authors: Shyla Colt
His face was relaxed. His lips were parted as he inhaled and his chest rose and fell. The tan skin beckoned to her, and she knew it was time to leave. It seemed in poor taste, but a part of what made her a good agent was her instinct for when to press forward and when to retreat. The doorknob was in mid-turn when the voice behind her spoke.
“Was I too rough last night? I would have been gentler had I known—”
“I didn’t want you to be gentle, Phelan,” she said.
The last thing she wanted was for him to feel guilt. He had given her what she’d asked for, and more.
“Then why won’t you look at me.”
She turned to glance over her shoulder and damn near swallowed her tongue. Propped up in bed, he looked edible. His brown locks were mussed and fell over one eye as the black sheets rode dangerously low on his hips.
“Happy?”
“No, Zasha, I’m not.”
Her mouth fell open as he tossed the sheet aside and stood from the bed. His steps were sure, his face a mask of determination as he came to stand in front of her and his semi-erect dick bobbed.
“Even now your arousal permeates the air.”
Muscular arms pinned her to the wooden door she leaned against. One hand was place on either side of her head, and his body hovered so close she could feel the intense heat that radiated off him. He was close, but not near enough to provide the skin to skin contact that she wanted in the worst way. Her hands clenched into fists as the sharp pain her fingernails helped ground her.
“What are you afraid of?”
The five words washed over her desire like a bucket of cold water.
“I’m not afraid. I’m just realistic.”
“No,” he said.
His amber eyes trained on her face as he shook his head.
“You’re running, but you’ll find what’s between us can’t be swept under the rug.”
When he removed his arms and took a step back, she missed the warmth he provided immediately. His sudden change of tactics made her uneasy. This smelled like a trap, but she didn’t have time to sort through bullshit.
“We’ll see, Phelan,” she said. Her sweaty hand slipped over the knob, and she opened the door and strode away.
****
It took all he had to contain the fury that rose when she tucked tail and ran. He knew Zasha enough to know she wasn’t one to be intimidated. But her hazel eyes had been filled with anxiety and panic. She was spooked, and until he figured out why, they were at an impasse. His teeth gnashed together as his lips thinned out and his breaths grew short. How could she just leave him?
Those outrageously long legs had carried her out of the room, and she left his life. Without so much as a look back over her shoulder. A painful knot twisted in his stomach as his hands balled. Fists slammed into the heavy oak door that groaned its protest. The bellow that ripped from his belly was haunting as the world receded to the background, and all he saw was red. Glass shattered and wood splintered as he poured his energy in to the destruction of inanimate objects.
“Phelan!”
Teeth barred he turned, crouched low and prepared to attack.
“Calm down it’s just us man, Kade and Bastian.”
He knew that voice. His heartbeat steadied, and his breath slowed as awareness woke in his mind.
“You back with us?” Kade asked.
“Yeah,” he said, as he gave a short nod.
“Shit, bro, you almost attacked our asses! What the hell happened? We saw Zasha rush out of here like the devil was after her,” Bastian said.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Phelan said.
His heavy sigh was tinged with sadness as he looked at the debris that littered the room. Broken pieces of chairs were scattered across the floor along with pieces of glass from what was once a full length mirror. Mindful of the shards and splinters, he made his way to his dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers.
“Last night everything was fine, and today I wake up to her about to sneak out of the room without so much as a goodbye.”
“Did you explain the
Wanting
to her?” Bastian asked.
“I thought I did. But apparently we were on two different wavelengths.”
God, it felt like he’d aged years in a matter of minutes. The adrenaline that had danced along his nerve ending has faded abruptly.
“What are you going to do? It won’t be long until both of you begin to feel the effects of being apart,” Kade said.
“Good,” he said.
His voice even as he knelt to grab the garbage can nearby and collects the refuse.
“Good? How is that good? All she did was leave and you destroyed your room and damn near attacked us!” Bastian said. Each word a little louder as his frustration level rose.
“The
Wanting
is an everyday part of life to us, we know how powerful it is, and why resistance is futile. It’s a lesson Zasha has to learn on her own.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Kade whispered.
Me too,
Phelan thought.
****
The minute Zasha entered her condo, stiff fingers grabbed the hem of her dress and ripped the offending article from her body. Her semi-nude frame bent at the waist as she unzipped her boots, and her stomach took a dive to the soles of her feet. The scent of sandalwood and musk accosted her. Even the sanctity of her home wasn’t safe from the alien King. Disgusted, she fought down the urge to burn the dress and made a beeline for the bathroom. Smoke inhalation would do nothing to quell the mixed bag of emotions inside her.
She sank onto the edge of the claw-footed porcelain basin. Her hand stretched out to turn the brass knob and watch the water flow. Zasha often found tranquility in her vintage-inspired bathroom. She had handpicked every aspect: from the pale pink walls to the round antique mirror that hung above the tub. The fact that peace eluded her now was a sad one. She moved away from the faucet and stood to slip off what was left of her lingerie.
The underwear had been lost to the room, and the bra she could never wear again. It would only remind her of Phelan. As it was, the memories of last night seemed burned into her brain. Each moment replayed behind her lids on a loop. Sick of the masculine smell that tantalized and incensed her anger, Zasha stood and moved to the glass jars that lined her vanity.
Inept fingers twisted the metal top off the rose-scented bath salt. She’d soak until she pruned and do her damndest not to think about Phelan D’Shar, and what could have been.
****
An hour later, she was wrinkled, floral scented, and still focused on the night before. Clad in a pair of worn jeans and a faded black Jack’s Mannequin shirt, she should have been relaxed but instead she was at odds. A part of her found her abrupt exit an act of cowardice. The other part saw it as self-preservation. God, she needed a distraction. Her body rotated to face the small closet she had turned into a make shift office.
Her hazel eyes closed as she inhaled air into her lungs and let her belly expand. The tension in her muscles felt good and she savored the burn before she allowed a slow release. A few more inhales and exhales later, she was ready to put in work. Bare feet padded over the wooden floor. Each step heavier than the one before as she made her way to the room, spun the knob, and stepped into her own personal hell. Newspaper clippings, faded pictures, and sticky notes covered the walls on the left and right.
But the pièce de résistance was the map of the U.S. that spread across the wall above her desk. Red push pins scattered across a myriad number of towns in each state. Each connected by red twine. The last tip she’d received had been two years ago. There had been a murder of a widowed woman in Santa Fe, New Mexico. The killer’s description had matched Tavel’s to a T, and it seemed like his mode of operation.
A few months after she’d made the connection, the trail had gone cold, and she’d been left with zilch. That was years ago. As far as the Covington, Kentucky police department was concerned, the case closed years ago. The files packed away in a box where they had become dusted and forgotten by everyone but her.
Zasha pulled out the rollaway chair and fired up the laptop. Content, she became lost in her search for signs that could lead her to the man who’d murdered her mother.
****
The insistent ringing of the phone drew her attention away from the laptop. A quick glance in the right hand corner of the screen stunned her; it was well past noon. She had been here for over four hours. Swift fingers flew over the keys to save her work, and shut down the computer before her mad dash to answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl, sorry I bailed last night, but you looked like you were doing just fine,” Taye said.
“No worries, girl. I knew the minute you two laid eyes on each other, I was on my own.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Taye asked.
“Yes?”
“No teasing or lecture? What’s wrong, Zasha?”
The mirth left Taye’s voice as silence fell between them.
“What do you mean?” Zasha asked.
“You’re not acting like yourself, and your voice doesn’t sound right. Cut the bull, or I’ll head over there now.”
“I slept with Phelan.”
“WHAT?! Why the hell didn’t you tell me! Here I am about to run on about Bastian, and you lost your v-card! How was it? Are you okay? Why are you home instead of with him?”
Her voice crackled like a weak radio frequency. “Because I fucked up,” Zasha whispered.
“Why? Because you finally had sex? You’re thirty, and we both know this has been a moment in the making for years.”
“The way he makes me feel is too much, Taye. I didn’t think about the consequences of my action. It was my mother all over again! What about my job? And what do I really know about Phelan D’Shar anyway?”
“Zasha,” she began. Her voice sounded somber as she sighed. “Listen to me. You have to let the past go. Phelan is no Tavel. Tavel was a sick and twisted individual. Just because he managed to fool your mother doesn’t mean Phelan isn’t exactly who he claims to be.”
“I owe to my mo–”
“No. The only thing you owe her is so to go on with your life, which you’ve done. Don’t let Tavel ruin anything else. Whether or not you want to admit it, you could be happy with Phelan. I saw it.”
She grew silent as she turned Taye’s words over in her mind. Had she punished Phelan for her own hang ups?
“How can I put my trust in someone I don’t know?”
“It’s a risk we all take, baby girl; there are no guarantees where matters of the heart concerned. Do you want me to come over?”
“No, I’m going to get off here now. I – I have a lot to think about.”
“You know I’m always here girl. I love you.”
“I know, Taye. I love you, too,” she said.
A weak goodbye the only thing she could muster before she hung up the phone. Perhaps Taye was right. It was time to leave the past behind, and move on in the present. Goosebumps broke out over her arms as she moved to grab a black-hooded zip up. She would prepare lunch, and set about the monumental task of clearing out the office. One step towards a life lived in the present and two towards operation avoid thoughts of Phelan for a while. If she kept herself busy with other things, he would never have a chance to linger. It sounded good in theory, but she had her doubts about the execution.
Chapter Five
Phelan normally had the patience of saint. It was a skill set he’d developed as the eldest of the family and the leader of the Shar. But when a week rolled by with no sign of Zasha, that polished persona began to crumble. He stalked around the D’Shar home so on edge, the smallest thing set him off like a firecracker with a short fuse. His brothers avoided him like a plague, and his employees all walked around on eggshells.
“Show her who she belongs to,” the beast inside him demanded. Its vicious claws tore his mind to shreds on a daily basis. The words of possession and dominance it expressed were so loud, he marveled that no one else could hear them.
“Still no word?” Bastian asked.
“No.”
His reply was short and terse as he paced the length of his office.
“I think I can help you with that,” Bastian said.
“How do you plan on doing that?” he asked.
“By taking you somewhere I know she’ll be,” Bastian said.
A cocky smirk lined Bastian’s lips as Phelan paused.
“You know I want her to come to me.”
“Maybe she needs a reminder of the attraction between you. It’s a lot easier to resist when you’re not in close quarters.”
“How did you come by this information?” Phelan asked.
“Taye.”
“You’re still seeing her? It’s been almost three weeks,” he said.
Shocked that he was still in contact; it wasn’t like Bastian to see a woman more than once.
“No, but we’re friends. She’s a lot of fun to be around.”
