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His dark head tilted as he studied her. “Of course.”
She turned and rounded to the other side of the ship.
His heavy footsteps echoed behind her.
When they were far enough away where the others couldn’t hear, she turned and poked him in the chest. “Just who in the hell do you think you are? You have no right to interfere with my Dreamwalk. What I do in my personal life has nothing to do with you!” The last word came out in a hiss.
Zamush threw his hands up in defense. “What exactly am I being accused of?”
The twinkle in his eyes let her know he knew damn good and well what she was talking about. “Last night I experimented doing a Dreamwalk. And instead of going where I wanted, I ended up with you.” Images of him suckling on her straining nipple made her cheeks warm. She threw her shoulders back. That wasn’t her fault. He had to have manipulated her somehow. She’d never react like that to him in real life. Her love belonged to Sychar.
Standing near Zamush’s spicy warmth, she ignored how her traitorous nipples hardened. She crossed her arms with a glare.
He moved closer to her and said, “Ah, my libbu.”
Masculine warmth wrapped around her, making the intoxicating aroma stronger. She pressed her lips together so he wouldn’t see how her fangs lengthened. It had to be her need for blood that made them do that. Nothing else.
Liar, her unwelcome inner voice claimed. Her mouth watered at the memory of when she took his blood. She gripped her arms, hoping the pinch would stop her wayward thoughts.
She stepped back when his gravelly voice whispered to her.
“I had nothing to do with you inviting me into your Dreamwalk. I was as surprised as you when you appeared in my arms.” He walked her backward until she hit something solid, blocking her escape. He leaned in, his expression dark and intense. “Who am I but a humble male to welcome you when you arrived?” The tip of his nose nuzzled behind her ear.
She shivered as his warm breath bathed her pebbling skin. She inhaled a heady mixture of dark lust and heated hunger, then she grabbed his forearms. To push him away or yank him close? She might as well shove the spaceship for all the good it did.
His solid form didn’t budge.
“You, Jelena, are better than any dream I could ever create.”
She would’ve slumped in a boneless pile of goo if he hadn’t kept her pressed against the cool metal of the ship.
His head angled, and for a brief second, his eyes focused on her lips as if asking for permission. When words were elusive, he slanted those full lips across hers. His tongue licked into her mouth.
A bolt of lightning zapped through her. Conflicting sensations raced. A tidal wave of impressions was overwhelming. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t make sense of anything but his mouth on hers.
Her fingers curled over his forearms as she whimpered against the demanding thrust of his tongue. Nothing tasted like his drugging caress. Sweet and tempting, with a hint of sizzling passion. Her tongue had a mind of its own as it tangled with his. She needed more. She needed to discover what his full, heady promise was.
His tongue pressed hers in response. A low growl rumbled from him.
The demand speared straight to her womb.
One minute she was consumed by the out-of-control feelings his kiss gave her, and the next he was gone.
Whimpering, she opened her eyes to see his back.
He acted like he was hiding her from someone.
“Have you seen Jelena?”
The sound of Qhasheik’s voice was like being doused in ice water.
“Ah, there you are. What are you doing back here? We’ve got a million things to do before we leave tomorrow.”
Shrugging the lust away, she stepped around Zamush to face Qhasheik. “I’m here.” She resisted wiping her mouth to hide what she’d been doing. “What do you need me to do?”
Qhasheik’s brick-red eyes narrowed. “You look funny.” His gaze slid to Zamush before focusing back on her. “You okay?”
Walking to him, she gave a dismissive wave to Zamush. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? What do you need me to do?”
