Sebastian/Aristide (Bayou Heat) by Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright Page B

inside of him, captive. His gaze traveled over her. Her exquisite face and her smooth, night-black hair…oh, and that mouth. He’d never seen her before, but she reminded him of someone. Who was it? Her dark hair, those shockingly blue eyes and that unpainted mouth that seemed as though it had been stained a deep, berry red.
    His lips twitched as an image popped into his mind. Ah, yes…Snow White. A movie he’d seen as a child. She was Snow White in a tight black miniskirt and three-inch heels. Heels he would make her keep on after he stripped her bare and placed her gently on the bar.
    A hum moved through his body, down below his waist where the evidence of his attraction was straining against the zipper of his jeans. Clearly, he’d been stuck in quarantine with Ashe’s sister, Isi, for far too long. There was no other excuse for this impossible reaction. He’d been desperate for a female before, but nothing like this. And never for a human woman. He needed to get his shit together or get the fuck out of here before he did or said something unforgivably stupid.
    “I’ll take a beer,” he said, forcing his gaze away and back to the pool table. “Any beer. But cold.”
    “Coming right up,” she said.
    Aristide knew that humans had a place in the lives of some of his Pantera brothers and sisters, but that would never be his reality. No matter how hot they were. Or how their skin or their voice or their scent called to him.
    Teeth grinding against each other at the back of his mouth, Aristide grabbed the chalk from the edge of the table and worked the end of his cue. He was one of the males in his species who seriously wanted a mate, and—Opela be blessed—a family to go with it. And his mate would be a Pantera female. Looking, panting or drooling over a human woman was a waste of his goddamn time.
    As he stretched over the table, he heard her taking drink orders from Roch and Damien. Doing her job. Her human job that had nothing to do with him. As his hand tightened around the stick, he tried to block the conversation out and focus on his shot. But it was impossible. His friends were being irritating pricks.
    “I’ll have a beer, beautiful,” Damien said, his tone oozing sexual charm. “And your phone number.”
    “Smooth,” Roch said, chuckling. “Forgive my friend here, darlin’. He’s under the unfortunate impression that women find him attractive.”
    “And my friend here is under the impression that he’s going to have a beating heart after tonight,” Damien said on a playful growl.
    Aristide lined his cue up with the ball. Don’t look over there. Because if one of those idiots is touching her …
    “Forget the phone number, gorgeous,” Damien continued. “Let me take you out tonight. Somewhere real nice. What time do you get off work?”
    “Sorry,” she began tightly. “I’m busy.”
    “Busy for him, right?” Roch said with a smile in his voice. “But not for me.”
    “Not interested, but thanks,” she said. “I’ll get those drinks.”
    “Ah. You have a male,” Damien said quickly.
    “Something like that.”
    Crack .
    The sound echoed throughout the bar, and Aristide instantly felt all eyes swing his way. Ah, shit . He was hoping everyone would think it was the satisfying sound of his last solid ball dropping into the right corner pocket. But he wasn’t that lucky.
    “What the fuck, Ari?” Roch said, all sexual heat gone from his voice. “You broke the cue.”
    Yes, the cue, and your attempt to hit on the woman.
    My woman .
    Fuck .
    Aristide groaned at the asinine thoughts inside his head. What was wrong with him? Why was he having such predatory, possessive feelings about a complete stranger? One who didn’t have an ounce of shifter blood? And one who had basically said she was taken? He needed to get out of here. Forget the beer, forget the game.
    His eyes came up, narrowed on the Suits. Both Roch and Damien were staring at him like he was crazy. The woman, however, was