“Okay, one problem down, how many more to go?” he asked impatiently.
“We have everything else covered,” Jackal assured him. “One of us will work with a Breed unit for a while, but I’ll tell you, those Breeds are hardheaded and slick as hell. I don’t know if we have much to offer them in information or experience. Some of those boys are your worst nightmare. And I won’t even mention those women. It’s enough to make a man want to start executing Council members. And that Lion, Wyatt, would scare the bejeebies outta me if I were anyone else. If there’s a weapon he doesn’t know how to use or a situation he can’t twist his way, then I don’t know of it.”
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Kane knew exactly how he felt. The female Breeds were often the most dangerous. Their eyes were shadowed with nightmares, their dreams haunted by them. Some would go days without sleep rather than face the demons awaiting them. And Wyatt was a pain in the ass.
“We need a psychologist in here,” he growled. “Callan’s refusing so far, but I’m working on it.”
He understood Callan’s objections. If by some chance the psychologist was a Council sympathizer, they could do more harm than good. But some of the Breeds were walking a fine line with their sanity and their morals.
“You city boys and your psychologists,” Jackal snorted. “Just what we need, some fancy-pants lollygaggin’ around telling us all how we need to get in touch with our inner child,” he sneered. “I find that little inner bastard and I’ll choke the shit out of him for the hell of it.”
“Are you having fun yet, Jackal?” Ice snickered as the broad ex-Kansas farm boy flashed him a killing look.
Jackal snorted. “Not yet. Want to volunteer as a punching bag there, Icy?”
“Enough.” Kane didn’t have time for their friendly bickering. “Move out,” he told them as he rolled the images up and handed them back to Jackal. “Stay in regular touch and keep me up to date with your progress tomorrow. I’ll talk to Lawrence first thing in the morning.”
The other men filed out of the room, finally leaving Kane in blessed peace. The first thing he did was strip. If he didn’t get his bound c**k out of those damned jeans he knew he’d go crazy. Naked, his c**k engorged and heavy, he collapsed back in the chair on one side of the room and stared around in frustration.
He could be drilling his tortured erection inside the heated clasp of Sherra’s cunt right now if he weren’t so damned stubborn. He rested his head on the back of the chair, his fingers stroking over his c**k as he imagined her tight, liquid heat flowing over his shaft to his balls and making his entire body tighten in the need to ejaculate inside her.
Unfortunately, it was never enough. Not physically. Physically, he understood the gnawing hunger. The hormone was building in his bloodstream in a manner that had the old doctor looking at him oddly again, and it was the cause of the unceasing sexual arousal. The insatiable longing that filled his soul was another matter, though. He frowned, scratching absently at his scarred chest at the thought. There was something missing, something that no matter how often he took Sherra, couldn’t fill that steadily widening void. Her heart. He blew his breath out heavily as he once again acknowledged the truth. He didn’t have her heart. He had her body, the commitment of her fidelity, but it wasn’t voluntary. And that was the killer. She was his only because of the chemistry between them.
There was none of the gentle touches or intimate rubbing of bodies as he had seen with the other Breeds and their mates. Sherra avoided that as much as possible. When they were together it was the sex she wanted and nothing more. And Kane needed more.
He moved his hands to the arms of the chair, his fingers clenching on them as he gritted his teeth in fury. How often had he tried to touch her, yearned to feel just the softness of her flesh against his fingertips, or the warmth of her body against him? More times than he cared to count, and in every instance she had flinched or moved carefully away from him. Each time he had been denied.
“Kane?” Sherra’s voice outside his bedroom door had him frowning darkly. You know where to find me if you need me.He had made the offer, so why did it grate now that she had come?
“It’s unlocked.” He didn’t move from his nude, sprawled position in the chair. He lowered his head, watching as the panel swung open and she stepped carefully inside.
Damn, she looked like an angel. All that blonde hair, thick and lustrous, framed her face and fell down her back in a skein of pure white silk. The emerald-green caftan flowed over her body, whispering over her br**sts, h*ps and thighs and falling to her graceful feet. Her eyes widened at his aroused, nude state. Swallowing tightly, she closed the door and slid the lock home.
Kane narrowed his eyes on her then. She looked…uncomfortable. Her hands still gripped the doorknob, her eyes were dark with both arousal and trepidation. And something more, some emotion he couldn’t put his finger on, couldn’t define. Hell, she was probably going to tell him to take a flying leap and f**k himself. She had done it often enough in the past few months. God knew there were days he wished he could. When he wished he could effect the distance she had forced between them and ignore the needs that ate at his gut like acid.
“It’s a boner not a monster,” he growled, waving a hand to the erection her gaze continued to flicker back and forth from. “You’re watching it like you expect it to bite.”
“It looks angry enough.” A nervous little smile touched her lips before it fell and she watched him somberly. “You look angry enough.”
He breathed out roughly in frustration. “I’m dead tired, Sherra, and horny to boot. If that’s why you’re here then come on.”
He rose to his feet, eager to fill her, to still at least that part of his pain. She bit her lip, her gaze flickering to the bed.
“That wasn’t all I wanted,” she whispered, her gaze meeting his, breaking his heart with the vulnerability he glimpsed there.
He rubbed at the back of his neck wearily. “What else could there be?” he finally asked. “I’ll be honest, baby, my control and my patience are worn thin tonight, so this isn’t a good time for a fight.”
“But it’s okay to f**k?” There was no heat in her voice, only that shattered soberness that made him ache clear to his soul.