Tangle of Need Page 18


It didn’t fight Adria’s decision.


RIAZ’S eyes had locked on Adria the instant he’d spotted her, the strange, unique complexity of her scent in his every breath, though it should’ve been impossible to pick it up, given the number of people in the Circle. Especially when she was pasted up against Sam, the younger male’s lips by her ear as he said something that made her laugh, the sound soft and intimate.


His claws pricked at his palms.


Excusing himself from his parents after handing his mom back to his dad, he hauled Jem into a dance.


“Thanks for asking,” she said in an acerbic tone, but slid her arms around his neck. “Stop scowling. Your mother is going to think I’m torturing you.”


“Sorry.” Forcing himself to keep his attention away from Adria and Sam, he looked down at the blonde lieutenant … and had the sudden realization that she didn’t fit right in his arms. She was too small, her head reaching midway up his chest.


Jaw clenching at a thought that had its origins in his primal attraction toward a long-legged female whose voice was rough silk across his skin, he said, “Did you dance with Kenji yet?” The two had something going—no one was quite sure what.


“Bite me.”


“Temper, temper.” He tucked her closer when she narrowed her eyes. “I’ll behave, promise.”


“Do I look like I have ‘sucker’ written all over me?” She went rigid a minute later.


Riaz understood why as soon as he saw Kenji appear out of the dancers.


“Can I steal her away?” The challenge in the other man’s tone wasn’t directed at Riaz.


All but able to touch the electricity in the air, Riaz stepped back, saw Kenji’s arm slide around Jem’s waist, and thought, Yeah, they fit.


“You look beautiful, Garnet,” Kenji said in a low tone, using Jem’s real name, the purple and gold of his hair sliding forward to shadow his expression as he pulled her stiff body close.


“Kenji—”


“Just a dance.”


It was all Riaz heard before he found himself making his way to where Adria leaned against a tree on the other side of the clearing. The shadows of the forest concealed her from the crowd, until it was almost a private alcove … but for the vivid tug of her scent.


Crushed berries in ice tangled with a hotter, deeper musk.


He didn’t know why he halted only a foot from her, whatever he’d wanted to say wiped from his mind by the jolt that rocked him at the single cool glance she deigned to throw his way. Conscious his eyes had fixated on the pulse in her neck, so delicate and bitable beneath creamy skin kissed with sunshine, he forced his attention back to the dancers.


Hawke’s hair changed colors as he danced with Brenna under the multihued bulbs the juveniles had strung through the trees, until the entire area was a wonderland. Several of those juveniles sat in pairs or in small groups in the thick branches, watching the festivities and flirting. A kiss was sneaked here and there, but nobody made any move to leave. Perhaps because they were under notice from the maternals, but more likely because right now, it was about being with Pack.


His hand snapped out to grip Adria’s arm almost before he was conscious of her getting ready to move. “Dance with me.” It came out harsh, crushed rocks in his throat.


Adria wrenched away her arm, shuddering at the contact. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” Riaz was a drug her body craved—and like all addictive substances, he was not good for her.


“Scared?” Eyes gone night-glow.


“No,” she said, her own wolf rising to the fore. “I just happen to have some self-respect.”


Stepping out of the shadows, she saw Matthias walking toward her. Her mood shifted immediately. “It’s so good to see you.”


The big lieutenant lifted her up and kissed her on the lips as he’d done Sienna. “Come dance with me, pretty girl.”


Her wolf could feel the dark burn of another male’s eyes between her shoulder blades, but she didn’t hesitate to accept Matthias’s offer. “How is everyone back in your sector?” she asked once they’d begun to sway to the music.


Mathias’s chest rumbled as he spoke, his hand moving gently on her back. “Ticking along. We miss you—do you plan to visit?”


“I can’t.” Not yet. “Maybe in a few more months…”


Matthias’s jaw brushed her hair. “No pressure, darling.” They danced in warm silence until Adria caught a scent that made her spine lock—right before Matthias said, “I think someone’s about to steal you away.”


Not wanting to make a scene and mar the celebration, she didn’t protest when Matthias stepped back. “Take care of my girl,” he warned.


Riaz muttered something pithy in Spanish that made Matthias laugh, but all Adria could hear as he took her into his arms was the frantic beat of her pulse, thudding in time to his own. Too fast, both of them, their skin too hot. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her voice stripped bare.


Riaz’s answer sounded torn out of him. “I can’t stop myself.” He shifted her closer, the move so unexpected, she didn’t resist—and found herself plastered to the hard strength of him. His arousal pushed into her abdomen, the hot male scent of him seeping into her veins until she could taste the dark forests and biting citrus of him against her tongue.


Breath coming in small pants, she shook her head, but the words she wanted to say wouldn’t come, her brain hazed by need, such vicious need. When Riaz backed off, only to take her hand and tug her deep into the thick black of the trees, she knew she shouldn’t go, but her feet kept moving forward, following him into the concealing shadows. The music continued to play behind them, but here, it was hushed and quiet.


Private.


Shoving her against a tree, he kicked her legs apart and suddenly his mouth was on her own, ravaging and taking and demanding. The civilized, rational part of her brain just stopped working. She gripped at his shoulders, her nails digging into heavy muscle as his tongue licked at her mouth, tangled with her own, the kiss an open, wet, voracious fury of contact.


Their gasped breaths were loud in the silence, their heartbeats thunder, and his hand when it closed over her breast, a shocking brand. Her cry swallowed by the rough demand of his mouth, she found herself rubbing up against him, trying to rise on tiptoe to create the perfect fit. Her frustration when she couldn’t was shattered when his fingers squeezed her nipple through the silky material of her top, rolling and tugging. His hand dropped all too soon … to slide under her top and spread on her abdomen, his fingers brushing the waistband of her sleekly tailored black pants.


His hand had touched her there once before.


A thread of reason broke through the blinding haze of passion, but his mouth was on her own again before it could penetrate, his free hand around her throat, and she was drowning. He was so big and strong, and he wanted her so desperately. It stroked the wolf’s battered ego, made her claws prick out and dig into his flesh through the fine black cotton of his shirt.


He hissed out a breath, but it wasn’t a sound that told her to stop. Instead, he kissed her harder, his fingers tugging open her fly to cup her possessively over the lace of her panties. Jerking, she felt herself grow even wetter, and from the growl that poured into her mouth, vibrating against her nipples, he felt it, too.


Then his fingers pushed aside the gusset of her panties and the thread of reason became a scream.


“I don’t like you.”


Shoving him back with every ounce of her strength, she wrenched herself away from the tree. “Oh God, God.” Her shaken gaze landed on his passion-fevered face, his cheekbones slicing against the dusky brown of his skin, his eyes a dangerous, brilliant gold.


Her wolf lunged toward him.


But she was human, too. Reining in the wolf with an iron grip, she somehow managed to do up her pants and tug down her pretty, silky black top hand-painted with a single stunning butterfly on the back. The material was thankfully immune to wrinkles, and her hair, it was still in place—Riaz had been so focused on her mouth … and lower.


Her lips felt swollen, but the apparent result of a few stolen kisses would catch no one’s attention. As for the fact that she was covered in his scent—she’d just been dancing with him. All that went through her mind in a single split second as her sense of reason, of self, reawakened with a violent howl, her entire body quivering from the shock of halting an erotic dance that would’ve had her pinned against the tree in another couple of minutes, her bare legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked her.


And that, she thought with grim honesty, was all it would’ve been. Because whatever the cause of the rage she sensed in his kiss, Riaz, tall and strong and blood-loyal to SnowDancer, wasn’t capable of anything else. Not with her. “I’m worth more,” she told him, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Affection, respect, tenderness, I’m worth all of that, so don’t you dare come near me again until you’re ready to offer it.”


Chapter 19


RIAZ SHOVED SHAKING hands through his hair as Adria turned and walked away, her hips swaying in unintended provocation beneath the exquisite fit of her pants, the insubstantial silk of her top alternately floating and caressing her body. His hand flexed, the sensory echo of her so warm and responsive a mocking taunt.


Gritting his teeth against the urge to drag her back, he punched his fist into the tree where he’d almost had her. He knew he could find another lover tonight. It wasn’t simply that people were in a celebratory mood. As Eli had pointed out earlier, he’d been offered a number of invitations since his return from Europe, and not all of those women wanted anything from him other than a good, hot tussle in bed.


There was just one problem—he didn’t want any other woman. He wanted the violet-eyed soldier who had, completely justifiably, told him to fuck off.


HIDDEN in the midnight shadows on the periphery of the large clearing, the Ghost watched the SnowDancers dance and laugh and play. Not ten feet from him, a giggling woman pressed her lover to a tree and suckled a kiss to the base of his neck before darting out of reach and back into the crowd. Groaning, the obviously disappointed male adjusted his jeans and followed.