Viper Game
Page 22

 Christine Feehan

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“Wyatt?” Her teeth nipped his earlobe. Her tongue dipped into it. “Wake up.”
Hell no. He wasn’t waking up. He caught at her waist, her small, tucked-in waist fit perfectly into his large hands. His hands came together, and she was gone.
“Wyatt? Are you awake?”
Her soft voice came out of the night and moved over his skin like the caress of fingers. His body reacted with an instant savage ache, reminding him it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman. It didn’t help that she’d haunted his dreams with that body of hers. And her voice. He’d always been susceptible to a certain type of voice. When Joy sang, most any man would follow her anywhere. He had to admit, although he didn’t want to, that Pepper’s voice was even more enthralling.
He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, breathing deep to rid himself of the giant hard-on for a woman who had been snake bit. She’d held a knife to his grandmother’s throat. She was one of Whitney’s experiments – failed experiments at that. She was too much of a lure not to be all about sex. That meant she wasn’t a prize by any means. He was just that damned hard up. “Yep.” And he’d probably be for the rest of the night thanks to her.
“I can’t seem to slow my heart down. This part always scares me.”
Damn the woman anyway. Now he felt like a first-class jerk. She was suffering real pain and his foul temper had kicked in just because she could stir him up with three little words – “Are you awake?” Now that would conjure up erotic images for any man. That voice. The knife. Her body. What the hell did one expect? He wasn’t a saint. It hadn’t helped that he’d been dreaming about her.
“Breathe slow.” He nearly groaned aloud. Great advice. Breathe slow. What kind of a doctor was he? She was reaching out to him, needing help, and he couldn’t move because if he did, his body, still as hard as a rock, might shatter into a million pieces.
He tried not to think about what she’d look like without clothes. Or what she’d feel like, skin to skin. What the hell was wrong with him? He detested women. They were sultry creatures bent on a man’s destruction. She was just proving to him that he’d been right about them all along.
He didn’t want to talk to her and soothe her, he wanted to strike out at her. She was going to be a handful. He knew that. He knew every man in the bayou was going to be panting after her. Damn her to hell, he knew what was coming. “You sing, don’ you? Your voice, you can use it to seduce, right?”
There was a small silence. His tone had been harsh. Accusing even. He took a breath and let it out, willing his body to stop. Willing his mind to forget everything Joy had said to him. Willing himself not to hear those sensual notes in Pepper’s voice.
“Yes.”
He hadn’t expected her soft admission. Or the way he felt the small confession slip inside of him, spreading through him like bubbles from the finest champagne. “So what? You were engineered to be the secret sexual weapon? The one used to lure the enemy close so you could stab them through the heart? That’s why you have that skin? That body? And that voice? Nature and a fuckin’ scientist gave them to you?”
Again a small silence. He felt his own heart accelerate. He stared up at the ceiling, his cat’s eyes able to count every knot in the wood.
“Yes.”
His lungs filled and refused to continue. He ached. Everywhere. It was all he could do not to open his jeans and find some kind of relief. “What went wrong? Why did they change their mind and start usin’ you for snake bait?”
He was being a bastard. An utter and complete bastard. He knew it, he just couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to punish her for being a seductive woman – one that could put a spell on a man without even trying. He wanted to punish her for his own weakness.
“They overlooked one important detail,” Pepper replied softly. “One serious flaw in their plans for me.”
“I can’t see any mistakes,” he admitted.
“They gave me the body, the voice, and even the sexual need. It’s like a hunger that won’t stop, but they forgot to take away my free will. They forgot that I might not want to crawl all over a man, using my body to seduce him and then just give him a little love bite straight into his carotid.”
He drew in his breath sharply, trying not to groan. The thought of her naked, sliding up any man’s body but his was just a little too much. The idea of her biting any other neck but his was just as intolerable. And that said volumes about his present state of mind. “You said no? Even though you’ve got cat DNA. You must go into heat.”
“All the time. Serious heat.” She didn’t laugh. She sounded sad. Filled with sorrow. Despair.
“Why haven’t Ezekiel and Malichai had the same strong reaction to you as I have?” He’d seen the look on their faces, but they had both been able to walk away. He couldn’t. Wyatt knew had they not left him to it, he might have turned dangerous – even to his friends.
“I was careful. I tried to keep my guard up and protect them. You shouldn’t be feeling it either. I must have slipped up when I got so sick.”
Her voice was killing him. He was grateful he couldn’t see her. Lying in the dark next to her, he couldn’t stop the erotic images from flooding his brain. He gritted his teeth and forced more air through his burning lungs.
“Did you use this particular gift to escape?” He didn’t know why he had to ask – or why he sounded so filled with contempt – so jealous. But it was there, swirling inside him, a black cloud of rage that told him he needed a reprieve from her. From the sexual web of her voice.