Stygian's Honor (9 page)

He’d shown up nine years before in Window Rock and survived doing odd jobs. He never stayed at one job long, and he had never made many friends outside the Jacobs brothers and the deputy.

Claire and Chelsea Martinez each sat on one side of Liza, and all seven of the group were leaning in close and talking low.

Stygian had noticed, though, that Klah Hunter’s gaze had locked on him the minute he stepped into the bar.

Moving across the room, Stygian watched as they all straightened and Liza’s head slowly turned toward him.

Long strands of what he knew had to be living silk, dark blond, highlighted and streaked, her hair flowed over her shoulder and fell across the thin navy blue silk material covering her breasts.

She’d come to the bar straight from the office. The slim white skirt and dark blue silk blouse looked as damned sexy now as it had when he’d watched her leave the house that morning.

As he neared their table, the four men watched him warily.

Stygian grabbed a chair, flipped it around and angled it in beside Liza.

Pure dislike entered several of the men’s gazes.

Straddling the chair, he leaned against the back and met each of their gazes firmly.

“What are you doing here?” Liza hissed as the silence around the table became distinctly uncomfortable.

“Even Breeds enjoy a cold beer every now and then.” He let a grin touch his lips as the perfect arch of her brows lowered in a fierce frown.

“I bet they do.” Chelsea’s grin was filled with teasing enjoyment as she sat back and glanced between him and Liza. “According to Malachi, they enjoy messing with our heads even more.”

Stygian had to chuckle. Chelsea Martinez wasn’t one to keep her smart-ass thoughts to herself, or to sugarcoat much.

“That’s always an enjoyable exercise,” he agreed with a quick grin as he caught Liza’s frown turning to a glare in his periphery. “Though, to be honest, I much prefer a more straightforward approach.”

“Oh, really?” Liza muttered. “And how do you manage that? I thought Breeds were allergic to honesty.”

He could see how she might feel that way after her meeting with Jonas two days before.

“Not so much allergic as merely wary.” Leaning his arms against the top rail of the seatback, he turned his head to her, ensuring she glimpsed the arousal raging inside him.

Two days.

He’d managed to keep his distance for two miserably long days, and he’d had enough.

She was his.

His mate.

She would be his woman.

His world and his life.

If he could convince her to take that chance.

Well, if he could manage to steal a kiss from those sweet lips.

It might have been easier if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Isabelle Martinez, mate to Malachi Morgan, had already warned her friends of the mating phenomena.

“You’re not wanted here, Breed.” Klah Hunter kept his voice low, but his tone was nothing if not dominant and filled with warning.

Stygian didn’t bother to even glance his way.

“Dance with me.” Staring into Liza’s eyes, he knew if he
didn’t have her against him soon, he was likely to end up in a fight instead.

“If she wanted to dance with you, then she would have invited you,” Klah snapped. “This is a get-together for friends only, Breed. You’re in no position to apply for the title.”

“I’m not applying for the position of friend,” he assured the other man—Breed?

He didn’t bother to explain the position he was after. Hell, he wasn’t picky at this point. He’d take missionary if that was all she was offering.

Though, he was partial to doggie style.

He was certain that wasn’t exactly the sort of position any of them had in mind, though.

“What exactly do you have in mind then?” Cullen Maverick spoke up as he leaned back in his chair and lifted the frosted bottle of beer to his lips. “Or should I just go ahead and kill you for thinking you can have more than Liza might want to give?”

“Whoa, enough.” Liza turned on them all then. “I don’t need bodyguards nor do I need anyone to defend my honor.”

The four men turned as one to frown back at her.

The air of sudden male dominance had a snarl threatening to pull at Stygian’s lips.

His woman.

His mate.

He’d never allow another male to order her to do anything. Especially anything in direct opposition to what
he
wanted.

“They’re not telling us the truth in regards to why they’re here, Liza, you know that as well as the rest of us do,” Klah argued. “He has no business around you.”

“Maybe he has other things in mind.” Chelsea grinned then. “Things that are none of your business, Klah.”

Liza’s chair scraped back from the table, a hint of fear and nervousness suddenly scenting the air around her.

“Let’s dance then,” she muttered as he rose to his feet beside her. “Instead of starting the fight you seem intent on.”

“Me?” He almost laughed as she grabbed his wrist. He
allowed her to give the impression that she was pulling him to the dance floor. “That was your friends, baby, not me.”

The fast, hard beat of the country-western music faded away and as they stepped to the dance floor, the band eased into a slow, sensual tune instead.

He caught the little muttered curse as it slipped free of her glossy lips and couldn’t hold back a low chuckle as he took her into his arms.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked. Her small hands pressed against his chest almost defensively.

The fact that she felt she would have to protect herself against him, her mate, had him tensing in regret.

Her fingertips were rubbing against the fine cotton of his shirt though, making him wonder if she was searching for the warmth of his chest. That gesture, small though it was, gave him hope that perhaps a part of her knew she could trust him.

“I make it my business to know where you are. And who you’re with.”

Tightening his arm around her back, he brought her closer, luxuriating in the sweet response of her body, the heavy throb of life in the vein at her throat and the hunger he could scent building in her slight body.

The need to cover her, to push inside the liquid heat of her pussy was going to make him crazy.

“Why do you make it your business?” Confusion filled her now. “I’m nothing to you, Mr. Black.”

Oh, how wrong she was.

Stygian stared into the gray of her eyes and sensed something more than the bravado she was fighting so hard to bolster as he held her against him.

“Perhaps I’d like for that to change.”

Liza stared up at the Breed, feeling their bodies swaying in perfect accord, before she was even aware that she was moving in time to his much larger body.

She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. That he’d made his intentions so clear, so quickly.

“And if that’s not what I want?”

“I would find that very hard to believe,” he retorted. “As
you said as we left the hotel, it would be impossible to miss the fact that you are very interested.”

“Oh God, I hate Breeds and their sense of smell.” She had to tear her eyes from his, but she couldn’t force her body away from him.

“Come out with me tonight.” It was more a demand than a request. “We could just ride around awhile. Maybe find a nice place to stop and talk.”

Her lips parted to refuse. She couldn’t afford to become involved with him.

Not with him or any other man.

“I brought the motorcycle.” His head lowered, his lips at her ear, the warmth of his breath teasing the sensitive flesh. “The wind in your hair. The night surrounding us.”

“Danger stalking us? A Breed who’s obviously searching for a ghost and believes I could lead him to her?” she asked, incredulous. “How intelligent does that sound?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t protect you? That where I took you I would allow you to be in any danger?”

“Control the world that easily, do you?” She snorted. “Besides, I’m not exactly dressed for a motorcycle ride.”

But he could feel the desire inside her to go with him. To take that chance.

“Talk to Chelsea, have her exchange clothing with you,” he suggested. “Come on, Liza, be brave,” he dared her.

He sensed her need to do just that, to step outside of herself. The animal inside him could feel that need.

That dark, inner core of a woman so locked down, so hidden inside her subconscious that he wondered if even she was aware of it.

“Why me?” The question was whispered against his ear as he bent closer to her, nuzzling her hair from her neck as he moved her around the dance floor.

“Why you?” The rumble of the growl was involuntary at the slender column of her neck as he spoke. “Because I’ve been so hard for you, and only you, for the past two days, that I swear my dick is going to permanently have the imprint of my jeans zipper.”

Her breath caught.

Liza felt the overwhelming need to push her own boundaries, to ask Chelsea to change clothes with her, to slip onto the back of his motorcycle and escape into the night with him.

“I want you, Liza,” he said. “My lips on yours, slow and easy, then deeper. Harder. I want to lick your lips, taste them. Then, I want to taste the rest of you. Every inch of your sweet body.”

Every inch?

Her thighs clenched, her clit swelling, moisture gathering between the folds of her pussy at the thought of him touching her—tasting her—there.

“I can’t do this.” She didn’t know if she could allow herself to take what he was offering. The implications of the cost could well be more than she could bear.

She could sense it. Deep, deep inside herself she could sense the knowledge that by allowing Stygian to take her, she would be destroying herself in ways she never wanted to face.

“No.” The music eased away as she suddenly pulled from his arms, forcing herself away from him as she gave her head a hard shake. “I can’t do this. I just can’t—”

Catching her arm as she turned away from him, Liza found herself facing a full-grown, dominant, lust-driven Breed intent on having the woman who dared arouse him in such a way.

“This isn’t good-bye,” he assured her. “We’re not finished. I came here to spend the evening with you, Liza. And I mean to do just that.”

As a fast tune began blaring from the band, Stygian shot the singer a hard glare before leading Liza from the dance floor. The fact that he wasn’t pleased with the music was more than apparent.

The fact that he wanted her was even more apparent.

Malachi had warned her that a Breed, once certain that the woman he wanted was as drawn to him, could only be turned away if he knew the object of his lust, his affection, or whatever they called it, if her objections were stronger than her need.

Breeds didn’t force the sexual aspects, they didn’t stalk, nor did they harass. They charmed, cajoled and teased. They built the hunger and the need until their potential lovers fell willingly into their arms.

He’d been a fount of information after he and Isabelle had become lovers.

Or mates.

A tremble of trepidation skated across her nerve endings as he led her back to the table where her friends waited.

The plans she and the team were discussing before his arrival would have to wait. Stygian was on the prowl and he’d found his prey. He wouldn’t be walking away anytime soon.

The problems inherent in such a decision on his part had her stomach tightening with dread. The team had already lost Isabelle due to her relationship with Malachi and her vow to never reveal what she had been a part of to anyone, especially a lover or husband outside the network.

The fact that Malachi was outside the network and not approved to be privy to that information had hurt them all. It was a decision no one on the team could make though, and permission had yet to be offered.

As they reached the table, Liza made her next decision quickly without taking the time to consider the repercussions of it.

“I’m going home,” she told them, feeling Stygian stiffen beside her.

Cullen, Steven, Reever and Klah all turned accusing stares on Stygian.

“Yeah, I think I’ll head back too.” Chelsea rose to her feet and pulled her purse from the floor. “Are you riding with me?” She looked up at Stygian with a grin. “Or with him?”

“You.” Jerking her light blazer from the back of her chair, she thanked God Chelsea had made her own quick decision.

“Then I guess I’m heading back too, because I came with them.” Claire joined them, moving from her chair and collecting her purse and light jacket. She too was dressed in the
clothes she’d worn to work that morning: a light cotton blouse and slim, sedate skirt.

God was smiling on Liza.

“We’ll follow you home.” Steven nodded and the four men rose as well.

Beside her, she swore Stygian chuckled.

She was certain of it as his head lowered. “Very, very good,” he murmured at her ear. “You surprised me.”

It sounded as though he was rarely surprised.

“Good night, Mr. Black,” she said.

“Good night, Ms. Johnson.” Nodding, he stepped back and seconds later disappeared into the press of bodies as he made his way to the exit.

“This isn’t good,” Klah stated softly.

Liza glanced at the dark Navajo, seeing the nearly black eyes and the anger burning within.

Klah was their logistics and planning guru. There were times when his instincts were so strong that the other members of the team swore he was psychic.

“But perhaps not bad.” She shrugged. “He can’t know anything either way. He’s just—” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Just horny?” Chelsea suggested teasingly. “Honey, that Breed is damned interested and damned certain you’re just as hot for him.”

“She’s not,” Klah snapped as he and the other men surrounded them as they began moving for the exit themselves.

“Reever, take first watch on the girls’ house,” Cullen ordered, ignoring Klah’s exclamation. “Steven, you have second, and Klah will take third. I have duty the next three days, but I can pull members of the other teams in the area to cover them until this situation is resolved.”

“That could be why someone seems to be stalking us,” Liza suggested as they left the club. “Someone could be using the Breeds’ presence here to draw out as many members as possible and get information on the network rather than anything else.”