to him. That tangy, lemonade smell surrounded her every time she came over to him. He could hear her heart literally running when she caught sight of him. Or whenever she sat down in the booth across from him to chat for a moment.
She was innocent. Totally trusting. And miserable beyond all description.
Her life essence was pure, which had shocked him.
Although she had lived with a man for a couple of years, and they had performed sex numerous times, there was no awakening in her. To Hannah, the act itself was meaningless.
Instead, she thrived on the closeness afterwards, on the feeling of being cared for and belonging. Of being held and cuddled, and nurtured.
She had never orgasmed, or else her woman scent would be different from what enveloped her. That fact had driven him to her. It sank into his blood, tainting him forever, and leaving him hungering for her like a starved man.
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Jebaral knew that when he took Hannah—
Shock like a surge of lightning exploded inside him. When I take her.
He dropped his chin to his chest. He would take her. It was inevitable. The one act would clear up so many things. One night, one joining, and one of two things would happen.
Either there would be no blood mating, cleansing his mind and body of his need for her. Or he would never be able to leave her for the rest of his life.
The nerves running up the insides of his thighs began to quiver with anticipation. He felt his manpipe rise and stiffen in the wet, chilly air. It was not uncommon for a Ruinos man to take a female when they both believed theirs was a true joining, only to find out it was a misconception. Simolif believed his brother's attention toward the woman was one of those false feelings. Yet, for the sake of Jeb's emotions, and their species, they both hoped it wasn't.
He turned and began to race back toward town and the lodge motel. Hannah was asleep now. Her body had finally succumbed to the medication she'd taken. When he returned, he would slip back into the cabin through the window he'd left open and crawl under the covers with her.
They wouldn't attempt a joining tonight. But it would have to be soon. He didn't know how much longer he could keep his secret from her. Or how much longer he could abstain from claiming the sweet promise of her body.
Above the treetops, the moon had risen like a bright coin.
It would be full in another couple of nights. A harvest moon, nearly blood-red and pulsing like an imitation sun. Jebaral 89
could feel his blood coursing throughout his body. These next few days would be crucial. By this time next week, either he and Hannah would still be sharing the tiny bungalow, adrift within the sensations of their bodies reawakening, or she would be there alone. Without him. Because if theirs was not meant to be a true bonding, he would not be able to remain with her. Ever.
The thought was enough to make him flinch in pain.
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Chapter 9
Clue
"Hey, Jamison."
Carl looked up bleary-eyed at the man who plopped down on the barstool next to him. As the guy ordered up, Carl turned back to the longneck he had been nursing for the past hour.
With Hannah gone, so was the tip money he used to go drinking. Emmet, the barkeep and owner of the place, was letting him run a tab—for the time being.
"How's the hand?"
The remark made him lift the cast. "Fuckin' hurts. What d'ya think?" he muttered. It was bad enough he had no money to get decently drunk. It sucked worse he couldn't get drunk enough to even dull the pain. The prescription for the painkiller the doc over at the clinic had given him was going to cost over thirty bucks to fill. Carl Jamison didn't have that kind of money. Not with Hannah gone. He winced and took another swig of his now-warm beer.
"Pretty sorry, that Morr guy running off with her."
Swinging his eyes toward the man, it finally dawned on him who the guy was. "You knew him?"
Manuel Rosas shrugged. "Guy didn't talk much. He was a loner, but he did his job and