Dawn Endeavor 1: Fallon's Flame Marie Harte (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖
- Author: Marie Harte
Book online «Dawn Endeavor 1: Fallon's Flame Marie Harte (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖». Author Marie Harte
“You like being fucked up the ass?” Jules asked drily.
Tersch flushed. “Hell, most of the time, I'm the one doing the fucking. You're the only one who demands I bend over for you.”
“So maybe you and Kisho—”
“Fuck you.” Tersch scowled.
Jules grinned. “I didn't think so. But sex with normal women doesn't scratch the itch, my friend. You need more. And the mating heat won't get any better. The other Circs thought it might help finding females. But you've seen how jealous they get about sharing their mates. Hell, you saw how Fallon challenged me for the woman. Olivia's bound to him and him alone.” He couldn't help feeling glad for Fallon, but a part of him hungered for a mate to call his own.
“Maybe. Even in the old days, Fallon had a thing for threesomes.” Tersch's sly grin returned, and Jules's unease vanished. “I have a feeling his Olivia may just be into some kink.
Woman liked me inside her while homeboy rode her. I'll give them some time, then try again later.”
He left and disappeared into his own room.
Jules stood naked in the hallway, knowing he needed to talk to Mrs. Sharpe again. The woman could deny it all she wanted, but his gut told him Fallon had her to thank for Olivia. The question then remained: What would Olivia say when she understood her new place in their Circ-ordered world? And how could they risk a precious female on a mission that had the potential to go so very, very wrong?
Chapter Eight
Four days later
Olivia stared out at the blue sky from beneath the brim of her straw hat. The yellow bikini she wore had more material than that which most of the women wore as they lay scattered around the hotel pool overlooking the ocean. The resort had to be hell on the government's budget, but far be it from her to complain. While she sipped a rum cocktail from a decorative coconut, she basked in the sun. Or at least she tried to.
“Don't move an inch from Hayashi, you got me?” Jesse leaned down to take the drink from her and kissed her full on the mouth. Just as high-handed as he'd been for the last few days.
Much as she wanted to ignore him in hopes he'd go away, her body betrayed her. She reached up and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He wanted her. His mind and body throbbed with need, and it took Hayashi next to her, clearing his throat, to remind her they were in public.
Jesse pulled away and shoved her drink back into her hand. “That's right, Olivia. You're mine. Don't let any of the other dickheads around here forget it.” He had the nerve to scowl at Hayashi, then practically growled at a pair of men watching on her left and stalked away.
To her chagrin, the men who'd been looking at her quickly departed the area.
So much for a blissful interlude before they had to meet with their contact tomorrow.
Hayashi chuckled. “Relax, Olivia. If you think about it, Fallon's jealousy works to our advantage. Who would think we're here for another reason when your bull of a boyfriend is making such a scene?”
“Yeah, right.” She fanned herself, still hungering for the mate— man, she told herself—she couldn't get out of her head. “Good cover, sure.” She promised herself then and there to make the most of her poolside visit. Who knew how much longer she'd have to linger, pretending she had nothing at all but tan lines to worry about?
The mission aside, Jesse now seemed to think she belonged to him, like a pet or a thing. As if a woman could be something to own. Gunnar and Jules were just as bad with their comments and expectations. As if she should roll over and beg for Jesse's permission to leave the house, talk to her family, or go to the movies. And Jules seemed to consider himself lord of all. She frowned. Lately the only member of the Circ team she could tolerate for any length of time lay next to her in his own chair.
“Kisho, I still don't understand.”
They sat close enough to talk without being overheard by others, grouped in private around the pool.
“What's that?” he asked, his husky voice mirroring the tiredness weighing him down.
Concerned, she'd tried to convince him to confide in her, but he refused to admit anything was wrong. So she'd try another angle and maybe get some information in the process.
“How can anyone think I'm a you-know-what?” A Circ.
He sighed. “It's not a matter of thinking but knowing. We have a certain scent, a feel about us. Haven't you experienced it? Jesse's is a lot like mint. Mine's cinnamon, Tersch's is cedar.
Jules's comes and goes, but he's normally pretty vanilla, which is ironic, considering what he's into.”
He didn't grin, but she sensed his amusement.
“But I'm not. I'd know it, wouldn't I?” But hadn't she listened to an inner wildness lately?
Since meeting Jesse and the others, her thoughts had seemed more primitive, basic yet incredibly complex.
Kisho shrugged. His suit sat low on his hips, and his skin retained a healthy glow that attracted more than his share of admirers, though he didn't seem to notice. “I know how I became what I am. All of us voluntarily underwent the experimental treatment, though I can assure you, we had no idea we'd turn out the way we did.” He sat up and leaned closer to her, his presence both assuring and disturbing.
Not Kisho. Jesse. I want Jesse, something growled deep inside her.
He eyed her knowingly. “You get used to it. I like to think of my inner beast as my id, that part of me that knows instinctively what's best for me. You have yet to see the truth behind the myth, Olivia. It's not just a mental transformation but a physical one.” She swallowed. “I saw the fangs, the claws. I think Jesse's skin turns darker too.”
“There's more.
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