To set the scene, Trag and Micayla have been denying the attraction they feel for one another, but as the tagline says, "She's the last of her kind... and the only one for him."
Everyone is counting on them to mate, but both of them are resisting it to the bitter end. To give you an idea of just how long they've been denying the attraction, this scene falls near the end of Chapter 13. They've just left a discussion with some of their friends where it has come to light that, with the exception of Kyra, who is now his brother's mate and for whom Trag is still carrying a torch, Trag has only done the deed with hookers. The inference is made that he can only get it out of pity, or if he pays for it.
Micayla knows for a fact that the hookers never charge Trag, but having hissed at him at first sight, what she feels for him isn't clear, compounded by the fact that she's had an overwhelming urge to bite him ever since. However, what she doesn't realize, as a Zetithian woman raised on Earth with no knowledge of her own species' mating habits, is that hissing at Trag and wanting to bite him is highly significant. . . .
As their eyes met, Micayla felt her mouth watering and practically had to bite her tongue to keep from hissing. If he moved or said a word, she knew she’d jump up from her seat and sink her teeth into him. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea—quite pleasurable, in fact. She felt her upper lip beginning to slide up to reveal her fangs and could almost taste his blood…
Then she realized that snarling at him probably wasn’t the best move at the time—not when she was trying to be supportive. Kyra didn’t love him—and didn’t need his love—not when she already had Tychar. Trag deserved more than her pity. He really needed to let her go.
Kyra was protesting that she had meant no such thing, but Micayla ignored her as she got up and crossed the room to stand squarely in front of Trag. They were almost exactly the same height; she didn’t even have to lift her head to look straight into his fierce green eyes. “Hey, Trag,” she said gently. “Got a minute? I think we need to go for a run or something. You know, to work off a little steam?”
His eyes widened as his jaw dropped. “Uh, yeah, sure, Mick,” he said. “Whatever you want.”
Glancing sideways at her as they walked down the corridor, Trag still didn’t fully understand what had just happened. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “I’m a big boy. I can take a little heat.”
“Who says I did it for you?” she said, staring straight ahead.
“Well, it sure seemed that way to me,” he said roundly. “Nobody was questioning your sex appeal.”
“Oh? Is that what it was?”
“Well, yeah,” Trag said, beginning to question it himself, “wasn’t it?”
“Not really. I think it was more a matter of you being your own man.” With a backward glance, Micayla added, “She doesn’t own you, Trag. You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to answer to her—and you don’t have to please her either. You can do as many Neriks as you want.”
“Don’t believe I’d care for that, actually,” Trag said thoughtfully. “It was okay once, but—”
Micayla gave an exasperated snort. “You do see my point, don’t you?”
“Well, maybe,” Trag began.
“She doesn’t love you, Trag,” Micayla said earnestly. “She loves your brother. I’m sure she’s fond of you, but—”
“She may not love me, but at least she’s never hissed at me,” Trag said. His tone was careless, but he followed it with a careful glance to gauge her reaction. Something told him it was the right thing to say, but he wasn’t completely sure…
She reacted all right; it stopped her right in her tracks. “Dammit, Trag! I said I was sorry! Are you going to keep throwing that in my face forever?”
“Maybe,” Trag said with a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s just say it made a big impression on me.”
“Impression, huh?” she echoed. “Impression? I’ll give you an impression…”
Trag had one brief moment to brace himself before she sprang at him with a snarl and sank her teeth into his shoulder.
Trag tasted like hot, molten sex—the tang of his blood, the salty flavor of his sweat—and as Micayla inhaled the pleasing aroma of his skin, she was sure he’d knock her on her ass, but he didn’t. Against all odds, he began purring.
The vibrations seemed to settle into her chest as she licked the wound she’d made, and suddenly, she didn’t just want to bite him and lick him, she wanted to devour him… pull him in and make him part of her.
Trag pushed her against the stone wall of the corridor, his eyes glowing like green embers. Licking his lips, he leaned in slowly and kissed her, but unlike the other times with other men, Micayla actually felt pleased by it and growled her approval. Desire washed over her like a tsunami. Her nipples tingled as they hardened against his chest, and as his tongue delved into her mouth, instead of feeling invaded she reveled in it; he was hot and delicious and sent flames racing through her body. The more she inhaled his scent and felt the vibrations of his purr, the more aware she became of the place between her thighs—a place that had previously felt empty and barren. As his kiss deepened, her body began to respond, aching with a need too fierce and overwhelming to be denied. Suddenly, she felt his erection pressing into her stomach, a pressure that filled her with passion and made her long to rip off his clothing with her teeth, baring his body for her to feast upon. She’d already seen his sex. Now she knew what she wanted to do with it.
Hero is currently in the running for Best Book of 2010 on LASR. Trag and Micayla would greatly appreciate your vote!
And, one lucky commenter on today's blog post will win an advance copy of Virgin, which is due out in June! Winner to be announced next Wednesday.