Page 19 of Miami Heat (Urban Heat 3)

Her expression turned sultry, and long false lashes lowered. “You can have it, baby. Any time you’re ready.”

She came at him, but he grabbed her shoulders, squeezing too hard. She winced, and he let up with an apology. “I feel like I’m out of control. Like just now, I hurt you, and this burning desire all the time. I can’t think straight. Not to mention how I feel like my head will explode if I get a whiff of perfume.”

Laila laughed. “It will even out after a while. Most of it, anyway. The sex drive will be manageable but still pretty high. That doesn’t matter. All you need is another shifter to handle you.”

“I don’t need to be ‘handled’. Thanks.”

A hip jutted out with a hand above it. Her dress seemed to grow shorter, showing off long, shapely legs. “Then handle me.”

Adam sighed. “I already have someone.”

“We can share, or better yet, a threesome.”

His eyes hurt he widened them so much. Allow anyone else to touch Sakura, even a woman? Not happening!

His distaste must have reflected on his face, because she laughed again. “Well, are you going to turn her? You know it only takes a bite or a good scratch. Every shifter doesn’t have the ability to make new ones, but we do.”

“Not unless she wants it,” he said, thinking about Sakura. Would she even accept him as he was now? He had been desperate, determined to show her strength she could not deny, but now with emotions raging out of control, and the way he had made love to her the other night, he’d be lucky if she didn’t drive a knife into his heart.

“I want to meet with the woman. Maybe I can answer any questions she might have.”

Suspicion rose in Adam at her words. He didn’t trust Laila not to hurt Sakura, and if she realized who Sakura was, there might be more trouble. The only reason his maker accepted him in the first place was because of Birk, and he had been surprised the man hadn’t told Laila about Adam’s associations with the Keith family.

“You’re not meeting her,” he said.

Laila bristled. “You don’t trust me.”

“Why should I?”

She gathered her purse and headed for the door of his hotel room. “You know where I’m staying. Call me.”

“What about these…” He hesitated, embarrassed. “Urges.”

Her hot gaze flitted over his body, lingering at his crotch. “The only urge I’m interested in helping you to explore is the sexual one. The rest you can figure out. Just don’t kill a human and get caught.”

The door slammed behind her.

He blew out a breath of relief that she’d gone and picked up his phone to call Sakura. He’d done so automatically despite his earlier decision to wait until she contacted him. After checking the time, he decided enough was enough. They needed to talk, if only for him to apologize for treating her the way he had. If she didn’t want to listen, too bad. He’d make her hear him out. Thinking that way brought him up short, and he searched his intent. Sure, anger surged within him, but unlike the warning Laila gave about killing, he felt no push from the beast within to do harm to Sakura. If anything, the creature chomped at the bit to get near her again, to smell her, to touch her body.

“Maldita sea, Adam, cool it!” He spent a few moments rolling his head around on his neck, breathing deep, and thinking calming thoughts. When calm reigned—or the best it could get—he set out to Sakura’s hotel. A short time later, he stepped into the lobby of the hotel where she stayed and could swear he smelled her. The distinct scent teased his nostrils and yet, it seemed different. Maybe it was his imagination. He shook the doubt away, headed up the elevator to her room, and knocked on the door. He waited. No answer. He dialed her number, and no ring sounded from recesses beyond the door. Frustration drove him to find someone to let him in, and he located a bellman. After he stepped over the threshold into Sakura’s room, he wondered if it was the aggression of the beast or the large tip he’d given the man that gained him entry. Either way, he decided to hurry in case the man contacted the authorities.

Sakura’s room lay in perfect order, her bed made. He checked the bathroom and found no wet towels. Either the maid had been in or Sakura hadn’t returned to her room. He thought of the little jerkoff he’d found coming onto her and ground his teeth. A deep breath through his nostrils brought in several different scents. He had no idea how he knew and could distinguish between them. He dismissed the ones he identified as food and focused on Sakura’s and one other. The man whose nose he had tried to shove into the back of his head had been here.

Sharp pain brought his hand up to his mouth, and he realized in his anger his teeth had sharpened and cut his tongue. Blood stained his palm. Calm, calm, calm, he chanted in silence. He’d changed once after Laila bit him, and it had been the most violent feeling he had ever experienced. He had no wish to repeat it in the middle of a hotel room.

Why wasn’t Sakura here? She was not an early riser unless work demanded it. Why wouldn’t she answer his calls either? Even angry, she was more likely to cuss him out rather than avoid him. This wasn’t like her. Had she run into trouble investigating her mother’s death? Worry niggled in his gut, and he balled his hands into fists. Once again, the bear raised its head by changing his fingernails into sharp, dark claws. He uncurled his fingers slowly, watching as the claws pulled out of his flesh. More blood. Pressing a wad of toilet paper against the wounds, he considered his next move. Perhaps he could use Laila’s technique. Had she really smelled him all the way from Texas? He chided himself for his naivety. More likely she had connections that allowed access to local flight lists. The Keiths had a few of those as well, so it wouldn’t surprise him if a shifter found a way.

He removed the toilet paper to find his skin healed, if stained with blood. After a quick wash and dry, he turned back toward the room and froze. The unmistakable scent of the man who wanted Sakura had grown much stronger, distinct enough he had no doubt the dude lurked outside Sakura’s room. A moment later, Roger walked through the door and stopped cold at sight of Adam in the bathroom entryway.

“Where is she?” Adam growled, aware his voice had gone deeper and more threatening.

Roger eyed him, his gaze assessing. “Why would I know?”

Adam wasn’t aware he had moved until he had Roger by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Plaster cracked, and the smaller man coughed, the air having forcefully left his lungs, but he made no move to counter Adam’s attack. Flaring his nostrils in sharp dislike brought one fact home to Adam. Roger’s face carried no blemishes, not even a bruise.

“Your nose,” Adam said, confused.

“Yeah, funny about that,” Roger said, a tight smile on his face. “Uh, mind letting me down?” He wiggled his feet, and Adam glanced down to find he’d raised the man more than a foot off the floor with one hand. His own strength startled him, and he let Roger fall to the floor. Roger sprang to his feet and put space between them.

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