Through the Veil by Shiloh Walker

of her knee. Through the fragile cloth of her pajama pants, she felt that slow, rough stroke as though he were touching naked flesh. A gasp locked in her throat—images slamming into her mind, that long hard body arching over hers, sweat gleaming along his flesh, muscles bunching and flexing as he pumped his hips against hers, the sight of his eyes, gleaming and hot, as he stared down into her face . . .
    “Sweet bleeding saints, would you stop?”
    Lee gasped as his arm fell out from under her and she was dropped without ceremony onto her feet. With bemused eyes, she watched as he stomped away, his big hands closing into fists at his side as he paced the path before her, keeping his eyes away from her face.
    “Don’t bloody do that!” he finally bellowed, spinning around and glaring at her.
    “Do what?” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “I didn’t do anything!”
    A sexy little snarl crossed his face and she felt her belly quiver. She was already dazed and hot from that wicked line of thoughts dancing in her mind, and this wasn’t helping. He looked entirely too—biteable.
    Yes. That was the word. She wanted to walk over there and catch his face in her hands and sink her teeth into that sullen lower lip, maybe into the tendon in his neck . . . then the gleaming perfection of his muscled shoulders . . .
    “That!”
    Her face flushed. No way. He couldn’t possibly . . .
    “When you’re a strong projector, anybody can pick up. But I’m a fairly talented receiver, which is how I knew you were here, how I always know you’re here, and damn it, would you stop?” he snarled. “You’ve got enough fucking chaos to deal with right now, trying to figure out what is going on, and you haven’t even grasped the full extent, but if you don’t stop tempting me, I’m going to . . .”
    Lee couldn’t help it. Lifting one brow at him, she smiled slightly and asked, “Going to what?” And she really couldn’t help it, no more than she could stop thinking about him, and her, together . . . Damn, had she really . . . ?
    “Not yet,” he growled. “But keep this up and we will. Right here in broad daylight. As to what I’m going to do—bloody hell, I’ll just give you what it is you are dreaming about.”
    Lee rolled her eyes. “Male testosterone is obviously on the same high levels here that it is back home,” she drawled. “Arrogance sure as hell isn’t in short supply either.” Balancing on one foot, she lifted her right one, staring at the deep gash and poking at it with a gentle finger. Not as sore. Lowering it back to the ground, she lifted her head. And jumped.
    Kalen was standing right in front of her, having crossed the good twenty feet between them in total silence. “It’s not arrogance when we both know it’s the truth,” he murmured, using one finger to tip her face up to his. “Now, is it?”
    Her breath was trapped in her lungs as his mouth slanted across hers and his tongue plunged boldly into her mouth. His tongue tangled with hers, rubbed sinuously against it, withdrew, and then started the dance all over again. Under the thin cloth of her halter top, her nipples beaded and swelled. One broad sweep of his hand opened the jacket he had placed on her shoulders and it fell to catch at her elbows, leaving her shoulders bare.
    Lee whimpered when he pulled back enough to nip at her lip as his fingers tangled in her hair, tugging her head back, exposing the line of her throat. The sharp sting of his teeth had her pulse racing. The brush of his fingers caressed her nape and she arched into his touch, only to have his hands retreat moments later.
    Cool air stung her breasts and she glanced down, watching as the top of her halter fell to hang at her waist. “I like this,” he purred, reaching out and circling one finger around the swollen pink tip of her nipple. As she shivered, she felt his eyes on her and she looked up through her lashes, seeing the stark hunger