Forcing himself not to think about how he’d gotten into this state, or who was responsible, he turned onto the familiar street in the older neighborhood and turned up a weed-choked driveway as he’d done several times before. An ugly thought crept in and he tamped it down with an effort.

He was not using Jacee. Hell, she got every bit as much satisfaction from their scorching interludes as he did. All she had to do was say no and order him not to come around anymore, and he wouldn’t. No big deal. But she never once had.

So he parked behind her Focus, shut off the engine, and strode to the door. Fist raised, he hesitated, and then knocked, ignoring the greasy feeling in his gut. It was probably his breakfast refusing to settle. Eggs messed with his stomach sometimes.

When Jacee opened up wearing a big smile and stepped aside to let him in, he pushed everything but her from his mind. As she locked the door, he took in her skintight jeans and the snug white top with spaghetti straps that rode just above her midriff and showed off her flat, toned belly. She wore no bra today, and the white cotton hugged full breasts, dark nipples clearly outlined underneath. They puckered under his hungry gaze, anticipating what was to come.

“Wonder what brings you to my humble abode, hmm?” Stalking him like a cat, the brunette stepped up and pressed her lush body against his, twining her arms around his neck. Her full breasts were squashed against his chest and her crotch rode his erection, grinding into him suggestively.

“What do you think, gorgeous?” he replied teasingly. “You got a problem with that?”

“Do I ever?” Her voice was like whiskey, smooth and dangerous. “Damn, it’s been too long.”

His body responded and he captured her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. She was a tall woman, so he didn’t have to bend his head to enjoy the kiss. She was all curves, built like an Amazon, arms strong from tending bar and tossing out drunken patrons at work. She was tough, rough, sexual, and liked her men the same.

So unlike pretty little Kira.

The thought was so unwelcome, he broke the kiss in reflex and stared into Jacee’s brown eyes. They were smoky with lust as she grinned and palmed the rod in his jeans, stroking it.

“Why don’t we get right to the good stuff?”

He chuckled. “What, no stimulating conversation? Maybe I want to talk about my week.”

She snorted. “Since when? If you want to talk, I’m obviously doing something wrong. Come with me and I’ll cure that for you, hot stuff.”

Taking his hand, she pulled him through the tiny living room into her bedroom, which wasn’t much bigger. But it was large enough for the king-sized bed they’d put through the paces in the past.

Stopping beside the bed, she grabbed the edges of the minuscule top and slowly pulled it over her head, revealing her bare breasts. As she tossed it aside, curtains of dark hair tumbled past her shoulders and framed them the way she knew he liked. They bobbed, begging for his mouth, and he obliged, cupping them both and lifting their weight in his palms. He suckled each nipple, scraped gently with his teeth.

Would Kira’s nipples taste as sweet? Better, his mind insisted. Much better.

Annoyed with himself, he continued laving the taut peaks until Jacee moaned, dropped to her knees. Hard as an iron spike, he watched as she worked on his jeans, unzipped them. She parted the denim, shoved it down his hips, out of the way. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, pointed at her lips. Her tongue swept away the drop of moisture on the bulbous head and he groaned, thrusting his hips toward bliss.

Burying his fingers in her hair, he guided her as she swallowed his cock down her throat. “Fuck, yeah. Suck me.”

She did, sliding it deep, out again, and then repeating. Slow and easy, making him feel so good. He sought the spark they’d enjoyed before, the one that would ignite a tiny flame into an inferno and make it more than good. Spectacular. He reached, but couldn’t find it.

Frowning, he closed his eyes and wondered what it would be like if the hair sliding between his fingers was blond and shoulder-length. If her mouth were smaller, so much so that she might have trouble taking all of him, both sucking and fucking. If her eyes weren’t brown, but sky blue. If her name was different.

With the image he wanted firmly in mind, he found the spark and moaned. Yes, just like that. Suck my cock, pretty little angel. And then I’m going to fuck you. Slow and easy. Hard. Rough. Any way you like.

The scent of her arousal invaded his nose, cinnamon and spice. But instead of enhancing his drive, inciting his lust to a new high, it broke through the fog of desire and began to clear his head.

Because the scent was all wrong. Dark. It wasn’t citrus and vanilla. It wasn’t crisp and sunny, blue skies and fresh air.

It wasn’t that of his Bondmate.

The knowledge washed over his body like icy water. And just like that, in about two seconds flat, his erection went completely limp, like a balloon popped with a straight pin.

Jacee pulled off of him and crouched there holding his flaccid cock as if she’d never seen it before. And she hadn’t—not in this pathetic state. “What the hell?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

Embarrassed, he eased back from her, ruefully tucking himself into his jeans once more and zipping them up. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s not you,” he lied. It was her, he just didn’t know who to thank for it—the man who wanted Kira, or his stupid shifter biology. But Jacee didn’t have a clue about his true nature, and it wasn’t like he’d ever tell her. “Nothing personal. It’s been a tough week.”

She was not happy. “Join the club.” Standing, she retrieved her top and yanked it back on, smoothed it in place. “Want some coffee? Something stronger?”

He gave her points for trying to salvage an awkward situation. And he knew in that moment he’d never be back. He sensed she knew it, too. “No, thanks. Some other time?”

“Sure.”

They made nice as she walked him to the front door, for which he was profoundly grateful. Women scorned could be a nasty business.

“Take care, Jax.” There was a sad finality to her words.

“You, too, honey.” Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, he did his best ghost impression, and vanished.

As he drove away, the ants under his skin returned. Without considering why, he turned his bike in the direction of home-sweet-compound and drove as fast as he dared.

Once he got back, he’d be fine. Normal as could be.

For a man who was really a lusty beast inside.

Kira told herself she wasn’t disappointed when Jax practically ran from the building as Nick’s meeting dispersed.

Where he was going was none of her concern despite his earlier caveman impression—Unga-unga, you smell like rival male!—but his defection without a backward glance left her at loose ends. Sort of lonely.

She didn’t know anyone here very well, even Jax, but she’d thought she and Jax made a connection by the stream. She’d hung around until their meeting was done, hoping he’d take her down to Block R like he’d said he would to get better acquainted with the “residents,” and now it seemed she’d have to find someone else to accompany her since she was under orders not to go alone.

While his mandate not to let him smell another man on her had been kind of exciting at the time, it now infused her with irritation. How much did he really care if he just waltzed off like she didn’t exist? The temptation to seek out Aric to be her protector in Block R rode her shoulder like a mischievous devil, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the results of her failed kiss with Jax’s friend, and wasn’t about to have a repeat of the ugly scene.

Nick would no doubt be too busy doing whatever Alpha leaders did. That left Dr. Mac, or one of the other team members. She’d be more at ease with another woman, but Mac was human. Would she be able to protect her if one of the detainees became violent? She thought not.