shirt, un-buttoning it as he went, then cupping her breast, brushing his thumb across her nipple. She moaned, pleasurable sensations sweeping over her.
She had to stop him. She barely knew the guy, and what she did know, made her question his sanity. Maybe she should start questioning hers as well because it felt so good, and it had been so long since a man had touched her.
The headlights from a passing eighteen wheeler caught them for a brief moment, but it was enough to bring her back to her senses. She pushed on his shoulders. He stopped, but when she looked at him, she could see the effort written on his face.
“I can’t,” she spoke softly.
“Why? You enjoyed my touch.”
He definitely said what he was thinking. Most guys would’ve tried to pull her back into their arms and attempt to kiss her into submission, or given up and tried again on another date, or moved on to greener pastures. They never asked why.
She took a deep breath. His gaze lowered. Damned full moon that left nothing to the imagination. She quickly buttoned her blouse. “I’m not ready to go that far with you.” How prim and proper did that sound? Sheesh!
He moved back to his seat. “Then I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
This guy was really full of himself. “And what if I’m never ready?”
“You were ready a moment ago, more than ready. You ached for more, and you were panting. You still haven’t accepted what you are. When you do, then we will mate.”
“Excuse me?” He really had his nerve.
She wasn’t about to get into a conversation about how bad she might have wanted him. She frowned. Probably because he was right. She moved the topic to safer ground. “I won’t ever believe that I can shift into an animal. It’s a ridiculous notion. I think you’re crazy.” Had she actually just told him he was crazy while sitting at a roadside park, no one around to hear her scream while he killed her?
“I’m not crazy.”
“Of course not.” She attempted a friendly smile. “It was only a figure of speech. We’d better get back.” She quickly started the car and pulled out onto the road, keeping the speed limit this time.
Maybe she didn’t really think he was crazy. Not serial killer crazy, anyway. He had saved that boy’s life. Killers didn’t normally go around saving lives. But he was—different.
She knew he watched her for the first few minutes before he turned his attention back to the road. Rogar was quiet. What was he thinking?
Rogar closed his eyes, feeling the wind on his face. It was a feeling much like the one he had when he became one with the jaguar and they would run through the jungles on New Symtaria. It was the same kind of freedom.
He closed his eyes for a moment, frustrated with how things were going. He had to convince Callie of who she really was, what she could do. He opened his eyes, narrowing them as he scanned the passing scenery. The moonlight made it as bright as day, but there were still shadows all around them.
But were the shadows safe or dangerous?
Not all Symtarians thought it was a good thing to bring their people home if they had mixed blood. They thought it would weaken their race. These rogue Symtarians weren’t willing to admit the purity of the Symtarian blood was killing who they were. They needed impures like Callie to ensure their survival.
Yes, Earth was inferior in many ways, but there were good things, too. He enjoyed listening to Callie’s laughter, and watching her interaction with Sheba that first night. There was kindness inside her.
And he liked the way she immediately responded to his touch, pupils dilating, nipples hardening.
He drew in a shaky breath. Symtarians needed to mate often, needed the release that went with it.
A sign flashed, drawing his attention to the fact that they were back in the city. It wasn’t good that he would become so lost in thought. Danger was still out there, still waiting. He had to remain alert. If for no other reason, he had to protect Callie.
Chapter 6
“Thanks for dinner, and letting me drive your car.” She got out, leaving it running, and hoping he would take the hint and leave.
“Can I use your bathroom?” he asked.
Now what was he up to? That was the oldest line in the book. If he thought she would succumb to his charm, he’d better think again. No way was she inviting him into her bed.
She sighed. But he had given her a ride home and bought her supper—sort of. “But then you’ll need to leave,” she told him.
He reached over and shut off the engine, pocketing his keys before getting out of the car. She couldn’t fault him for that. In this neighborhood it probably wasn’t wise to leave a Jag running. Shoot, it might not even be wise to leave one in the driveway. Not that he would be here that long.
She unlocked the front door, flipped on the light, and they went inside. He started toward the bathroom, but turned, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. Okay, here it was, his move to get her into bed. But he only looked deep into her eyes.
“You have the ability to change form. Your guide is there”—he tapped her chest—“in your heart…and in your soul, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You need her as much as she needs you.”
Funny, she didn’t feel afraid because he was talking crazy again. Maybe because she knew he really believed what he was telling her.
She might as well play along and humor him.
Yeah, sure, who was she kidding? She was beginning to buy into his fantasy…sort of.
She cocked her head to the side. “And exactly how do I change form?”
“You only have to close your eyes and think about your guide. Think about your other form. It will happen if you let it.”
He moved his hands from her shoulders, taking his warmth with him as he walked out of the room.
What if he was right? What if she was part alien? She’d been about eight when she’d first heard the voice inside her. What if it had been her guide? Callie had been scared. She’d told one of the counselors and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in front of a psychiatrist.
Who would want to adopt a kid who heard a voice talking to her? She’d stopped listening, and eventually it went away.
Callie was so confused. Rogar had said to change form, she had to close her eyes and think about her guide. If she did this, and didn’t change, that would prove to him, and her, that she wasn’t part alien.
Before she could chastise herself for being as crazy as Rogar for even thinking she quite possibly could be part alien, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then exhaled. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, and looked at her arms. They still looked like her arms.
Rogar had said she needed to concentrate. She took another deep breath, exhaled, and relaxed her whole body. She pictured fields of green grass waving in the breeze, and could almost feel the wind on her face.
What was happening? Was she dying? Had Rogar come back and killed her while she wasn’t looking, and she didn’t know she was dead yet?
Ridiculous, she wasn’t dead. At least, she was pretty sure she wasn’t, but she hurt. Her body ached in places she didn’t know she could ache. And burned with an intensity she didn’t know existed.
She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t, and yet, she felt the damp fog surrounding her. Weakness enveloped her, and she slowly sank to the floor and curled into a ball as her heart began to race. The blood rushed through her veins. Her skin stretched, then tightened.
