The Wanting (D'Shar Men 1)

His voice a husky rasp as it rattled out of his throat.

“No,” Bastian said. “But we both know you can only hold off for so long.”

“Every minute I manage to stop myself from claiming my mate allows her to continue her life as she sees fit. We don’t know the logistics of a Shar mating with a human; we only know it’s possible.”

When the scientists on Tagget announced their sun was failing, they held out hopes of repairing the sun before being forced to admit the inevitable. They would have to find a new place to live.

They looked at many locations before deciding on Earth. Not only were its people the friendliest, their genetic make-up was the most compatible which meant, in time, they could interbred.

“She’s strong!”

“You realize that being bonded to me will ruin her life as she knows it right? You see how dedicated she is to her job. What will losing that do to her? How can we be happy for the rest of our lives with that over my head?” Phelan asked.

His fingers curved like claws as they raked through his hair. He had gone over this so many times.

“You should at least tell her before the time comes.”

“I’m done talking about this,” Phelan said. A dismissive wave of his hand the signal he was done with the topic.

Chapter Three

Are you sure about this? Zasha thought.

Her kohl-lined almond-shaped eyes focused on the full length mirror that reflected a woman she barely recognized. The hazel hue turned a deep emerald green against the bronze eye shadow and fringed with long lashes exaggerated by mascara. The maroon-colored mini dress grazed the top of her thighs, and the V-neckline was a half-inch shy of being indecent. If it wasn’t for the knee high black boots, she’d feel naked. The thick black hair she normally kept braided and pinned in to a bun flowed to her mid-back. Styled in a partial up-do with a high ponytail.

“Don’t over think it, Z. The costume is witty as hell. Going as a crew member from Star Trek to an alien ball is the bomb!” Taye said.

Taye fluffed the red curls of her wig and inspected the green hue her skin had acquired via special effects make-up.

“Says the woman bold enough to attend the alien hosted event as a green-skinned extraterrestrial from a planet that caters to the sex trade,” Zasha said.

“Exactly! I’ll scandalize them so bad, no one will notice how stacked Zasha Johnson is.”

Taye’s hand waved over the silver bikini top and mini-skirt in an exaggerative sweep.

“The silver stilettos are the icing on the cake, and that’s not funny,” Zasha said.

“On the real, Z, it wouldn’t hurt you to loosen up and find some masked man to clear out those pipes.”

“You know that’s not me.”

“There’s a first time for everything, and a very sexy alien did invite you personally.”

“Stop right there,” Zasha said.

A vivid vision of Phelan’s sculpted body covered with sweat as he pounded into her was all too easy to conjure. The lust she harbored for him had always made her feel like a dirty voyeur.

In her mind, a casual handshake became a lover’s caress. His smooth baritone, an aphrodisiac, and his lips, a tool to make her think sinful thoughts. She watched him from beneath her eye lashes at every opportunity, her body achy and starved for his attention. By t

he end of her schooling, she’d been convinced Professor D’Shar could smell the need that permanently saturated her panties whenever she was in his presence. His spine grew stiff. His nostrils flared and the warmth in his tone grew cool anytime she was near him. It was the only excuse she could come up with for his abrupt pull away from their friendship.

“It’s okay to have a crush, you know. It’s not like he’s your superior any longer.” Taye said.

Zasha sighed. What she had was more than a crush; it was an obsession. One that woke her in the dead of night from dreams so molten the only escape from arousal was to take matters into her own hands.

“I don’t have a crush,” she whispered.

“Right,” Taye said.