Galaxy Girls

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Phyrne’s pulsing, throbbing, deep pink-red aura surrounded her. The need to procreate with this man smoldered inside her, consuming her. Even her eyes felt red and hot. She swayed toward him and he stumbled toward her. The FBI badge fluttered out of his loosened hold. The gun barrel in his other hand pointed to the pavement. The look on his face combined horror with a great hunger.

She tried to stop herself, to pull back. He was no longer a threat. She’d neutralized him for now. But she made the mistake of looking at his crotch, the material tight.

Tremors started inside her, womb-deep.

This was what she’d been bred for. The flip side of making men mad with desire. They topped into the pit, and she tumbled right after them.

She didn’t need to do this. She didn’t want to do this. But she had to. It was too late to pull back. The last round of pheromones had turned on a switch, ripped the control of her body from her mind and handed it to her flaming hormones.

The immense hunger inside her needed to feed on him, as much as he needed her. Not little bites, either. She wanted to gobble him up, to devour him until there was nothing left but crumbs.

Now. She wanted to do it now. Had to do it now.

The van! Deena’s voice in Phyrne’s head was an irritant, a bug she wanted to squash. She didn’t want to listen to Deena, she wanted to shove the man to the ground, tear off his pants and impale herself on him.

Liss says you need to go to the van. You can’t do it here.

Busy. Go away.

I won’t go away. If you don’t go to the van, Liss says she’ll shoot him.

Rage churned inside Phyrne. No! He’s mine!

Then go to the van!

Phyrne shut out Deena’s voice. She reached the man or he reached her. Who was first didn’t matter, it only mattered that they came together. She saw bursts of colors and knew they came from her own aura, star-shots of joy. They clutched each other, body to body.

Yes, yes, yes. This was the way it was supposed to be.

“What did you do to me?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. Then his mouth locked onto hers, and he consumed her. No tongue, just mouth against mouth, hard and rubbing and claiming.

She consumed, too. Hard and rubbing and claiming. Mine! This man is mine!

The kiss went on and on and on. Behind her she heard voices, urgent and edged, but it was background noise, like the wind and the sound of traffic drifting from the front of the casino. A car engine started at the same time he pressed the zippered area of his pants against her belly, his hardness against her softness.

He groaned into her mouth.

She groaned into his, his erection thickening, hardening. She wanted it lower. She wanted it inside her.

“You bewitched me,” he muttered.

She burned. On fire. Every cell in her body demanded she have him right now. Not the next second. This second.

She slid her tongue inside his mouth. He was hot. Almost as hot as she was, but nothing could be that hot, not unless he dived into the sun. She lowered her arms, gliding her hands down his back and along the side of his ribs, never taking her fingers and her palms from him. Her hands belonged on his body. His body belonged to her.