He'd waited for that ragged denial. He knew she could. He fucking loved showing her she could. "You will, for me, you'll give that to me again, because I need it. You didn't text me." She hadn't, and he had to make certain she couldn't live without him any more than he could live without her.
He clamped his hands around her thighs, holding her open for his assault. He took her up again. So high. Watched her carefully as he pushed her limits. "That's it, baby," he whispered softly, breathing warm air into all that heat. "Now. Give it to me now." He needed to see and hear the music of her ragged breathing. He used his teeth and her body came apart for him, clamping down, shuddering, her muscles rippling from her stomach to her thighs with the force.
Joshua wiped his face on her thighs, dropped into a nearby chair and then laid his head on her abdomen. He felt her heat. Her body still reacting, the waves still strong enough for him to feel. Her breasts heaved as she tried to drag in air. He turned his head and kissed her mound. Her hand dropped to his hair, fingers sifting through it.
She'd done that once or twice in the swamp and he'd loved it. The caresses felt different, not sexual exactly, but more sensual, a gentle, peaceful connection between them. He wrapped his arms around her middle and stayed still, letting the swamp's symphony and her fingers in his hair soothe the heat out of his body. He wanted to lie with her at night. He would put a bed on his balcony and sleep under the stars with her just to get this closeness he felt with her.
He didn't know how long he held her, but it couldn't last forever and he knew it. Her hand lifted and she shifted subtly to tell him she had to move. Reluctantly he stood, tugging her body into a sitting position. He handed her the red lace panties.
"This is always going to be my favorite outfit." His marks stood out everywhere, and there was satisfaction in that. "I'm sorry I'm not as gentle as I should be with you. I try, and then the next thing I know, I'm completely out of control."
She pulled the stretch lace over her hips. Just that little movement, along with the sway of her breasts, sent a jolt of heat through him.
"It isn't just you," she admitted. There was an unexpected shyness, as if she didn't quite know how to talk to him. "I like what you do to me. Everything you do. If I didn't, I'd say so."
He nodded, relief rushing through him. "Good. I want you to tell me when I do something you don't like." He admired the fact that she gave him the truth when she was still uncertain of him.
"I would."
"You weren't going to text me." He hoped the hurt, mixed with anger, didn't show in his voice. "Sonia, you feel the same way I do. I know you do. You wouldn't react to me like this if you didn't. It can't all be sex."
"Why not? Why can't we just leave it at that? Sex. It's good. Better than good." She shivered and rubbed her hands down her arms.
Joshua realized the night had turned a little cold with the breeze rising to a wind. He slung his arm around her and walked her toward the door. Weather could change quickly, raining one minute and the sun breaking out the next. The moment he stepped into her house, his leopard went wild. Wild. He could barely contain the snarling beast. Every muscle contracted, his skin rippling as the cat tried to force his way out.
He thrust her away from him, pushing back at the animal fighting for supremacy.
"What is it?"
"He smells another man." He could barely get the words out. His skull didn't fit in his skin, the pressure causing blinding pain. His teeth filled his mouth, pushing to be more.
"It was Bastien Foret. He came here to check on my friend Molly."
The absence of any indication of hesitation or lie saved them. Joshua had never once experienced his leopard fighting for takeover. Not like that. That battle had been swift and brutal. He was angry with his cat. Furious. What the fuck did you think you were going to do? Hurt her? Hurt my woman? It was the first time he'd ever been truly incensed at his leopard.
The cat backed down immediately. Never. I would hunt down and kill this man.
He is innocent. You reacted before she had the chance to tell us. You would have killed an innocent man. What the hell is wrong with you?
The leopard was silent as if trying to regain his formidable temper. She will not commit to us. She wants to take Gatita and run.
Joshua's heart thudded, and he looked at Sonia. She stood waiting, knowing he was struggling with his leopard, but instead of fear, she was unmoving.
"You act scared of me half the time, the times you shouldn't be, and then now, when my leopard is losing his fucking mind, you just stand there. He might have killed you." He was angry with his leopard, himself and the situation.
She shook her head. "Gatita wouldn't let that happen."
"Leopards have vicious tempers. You know that. They can be very dangerous when they're angry."
"So can their counterpart," she replied, looking him right in the eye.
He didn't know whether she referred to him or to herself. "Tell me why Bastien felt he needed to check on Molly. She's the landscaper, right? I haven't been to her nursery, the gardeners have. We're trying to use all local people, and she's very knowledgeable according to everyone around these parts. Is something wrong?"
"That's Molly's story to tell."
"So, something is wrong." He moved deeper into her house, looking around her modernized kitchen. It was beautiful, with gleaming countertops and a tiled floor. "She's obviously confided in you. If she's in trouble, I need to know two things. You don't have to be specific, just tell me if there's something I can do to help. You know I have certain specialties. And if any of her problems leak over to you."
She ran her fingertips along the countertop. "I think she's talked herself into believing she's safe when she's not."
His head came up, his gaze focusing on her. She was talking about Molly, but she was also talking about herself. He heard it in her voice. He wanted to grab her, take her back to his home and surround her with guards night and day. A thought shimmered into his mind. One he didn't want to think about, but had to consider. Husband. Could she be married? His gaze strayed to her left hand before he could stop it. It was bare. He needed her to trust him enough to confide in him.
"Are you thinking of running? My cat thinks you are. It makes him uneasy and temperamental. That makes me the same way."
Her lashes fluttered again, drawing his attention to them. Long. Thick. Dark like her hair, framing her exotic dark chocolate eyes. She was looking down at the countertop as if it would somehow come to life and save her from answering. He refrained from speaking, letting the silence stretch out until she finally sighed.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't be in a relationship with you."
His heart did an odd clenching that told him he was in deep trouble. She fought a relationship with him when she had to know they were meant to be together. She wanted to protect him even more than herself. The thought kept growing, and he didn't like it at all.
He took her hand, pulled her beneath his shoulder and kept walking through the kitchen. One room led straight into the next, just as it did in his home. "Why not?" They were in her formal dining room. She hadn't yet restored this room, but she had several oil paintings hung on the wall. They were all of the swamp. They were beautiful, and he stopped to admire them.
Her fingers tightened around his, and his heart clenched hard in his chest. He turned his head to look down at her. "You really are afraid of me." He caught her chin and tipped her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I would never hurt you. Shifters mate for life. For life. I recognized you the moment I saw you. I knew we belonged. I knew I was born to protect you. To make you happy. To love you, Sonia, like no one in this world has ever been loved. Your leopard can hear the truth, so can you. Am I telling you the truth?"
She didn't have a poker face. Every thought moving through her mind was there on her face and in her eyes for him to see. Fear was uppermost. She wanted to believe him because she heard honesty, but she couldn't quite make
herself get there.
"Give me a chance." He switched tactics. "Get to know me. Take the time."
"If it's just sex, I won't get my heart broken."
He knew that admission cost her with all it gave away. "Words don't matter as much as actions. Give me the chance to show you I mean what I say when I tell you, for me, there isn't going to be another woman." He led her through to the great room. It was spacious and beautiful, again, not fully renovated.
"How?"
His heart steadied. She wasn't going to fight him. He needed that reassurance as much as his leopard did.
"We'll go out. Meet together after work. I'll tell you my crazy life and you can tell yours . . ." He broke off when she shook her head.
"I can't tell you mine."
"Or won't?"
"I can't."
He was silent as they went up the stairs. She had scraped the years of neglect from the stairs, but hadn't finished them. As in his home, they were on the narrow side, but they were functional, large enough for a man to step without worrying his foot wasn't going to fit.
"That implies you think it would be too dangerous for me to know. Look into Drake Donovan's security team. He's considered the best in the world. We're called on to go into places others wouldn't even consider. You know I'm leopard. Unless . . ." He pulled open a door and peered into an empty room. "Unless the trouble is with other leopards." He kept his voice casual, not wanting to spook her.
He moved from that room straight into the next. This one had long windows just like the first, with glass doors that led to the balcony. She'd replaced the old windows with new ones, floor to ceiling, and the doors were French doors, the windowpanes big squares. The middle room was her studio. It made sense, it got the most light and overlooked the largest part of the swamp. From her vantage point she could see the river and the canopy of trees in the distance.
He flicked on the light, knowing this room was a big part of her world. Of who she was. If he wanted to get to know her, he had to see her through her choices of what she painted. He would be able to see the world through her eyes. How she saw things, what she chose to paint.
He wandered around the room, looking at the canvases. She had one she'd set aside, off from the others, and that was the one he chose to study. Most were of the swamp, but this one was different. The colors were different. Subdued. Not the vibrant colors of the trees and bushes she'd painted from her balcony, looking out over the land she obviously loved.
This was of a cemetery. Looking at it, one got the feeling of loneliness, sorrow, even a hint of anger. There were beautiful tombstones all around the plot she'd chosen to focus on. Light streaked through the grays of the morning sun. He stepped closer to see the markings on the graves. There were two crosses, but no name.
He glanced over at Sonia. She held herself very still, fingers twisting together until her hands were white. He reached out and covered them with his own, stilling the motion. "Your parents? This one is very personal, yet the graves aren't marked."
"Both were cremated. I scattered their ashes. I painted that for me." Her voice was strained.
He found the concept interesting. She'd cremated her parents, which was good considering one or both had to be leopard, but she depicted them together in a cemetery. The cemetery she'd chosen was obviously real and had been painted from memory. "Will you let me buy one of your paintings?"
He tugged on her hand until she went with him to stand in front of the one he most admired. It was brilliant. He knew the exact spot. He'd visited it a hundred times. There was his swamp in the dripping Spanish moss, fringed lace draped through the cypress forest. Knobby knees of the cypress trees rose from the water where duckweed floated and cranes walked in elegance and grace.
"I'd like to have this one to hang above the fireplace in the great room. The colors match perfectly with the room, and this happens to be one of my favorite places to go. Let me have it, Sonia. Name your price."
"I'll give it to you."
"I can't let you do that." He looked around the room. Paint and paper were peeling from the walls. "You're fixing up your home. Think of it like sheets of drywall, or roofing material. I'll pay you what I paid for the picture in the dining room."
She'd seen that picture. It was the real deal, no copy. And it was painted by an artist long dead whose work commanded hundreds of thousands of dollars. Which hers did not. She shook her head. "I don't have a name. I don't sell my work. If you want the painting I'll gift it to you."
He could see she was going to be stubborn about it. He could "gift" her whatever she needed in the way of material to renovate her home--not that he wanted her living there much longer. He wanted her with him.
"Thank you," he murmured, seeing she was braced for an argument. "I would love to have it. Is it signed?" He stepped closer to look.
She touched the right-hand corner of the canvas. An intricately intertwined S and L were very small right at the bottom inside the tangled roots of a tree. "That's it. That's my signature. I always use that."
"Not your name?" He had to admit, the small signature fit into the painting, making it look part of the root system.
She shook her head. "When I was a child painting, I thought it was cool and mysterious. I practiced painting that S and L together for months before I put it on my canvases. Now it suits me. I like just adding that into the foliage somewhere. It fits most of the work I do. I can hide it in vines draping down, or flowers, even the water. It just works."
"I'll send for the painting tomorrow. Or you can bring it with you when you come back."
"I'd rather do that. I prefer strangers not come around too often."
He resisted asking questions. He had to take it slow with her, and this next, nonnegotiable demand was not going to be taken lightly. "That's fine. Bring it when you come to work. I'll be staying nights with you, Sonia, so I can always drive over tomorrow, but I prefer no one knows I'm here so if they think they're getting away with an attack on you, I'll be a surprise."
6
SONIA'S breath caught in her lungs and she gave a quick shake of her head. Joshua couldn't stay. Not in her house. Not in her bed. Panic set in. His scent would be all over her sheets and pillows. She would lose her mind when he left her. For all his promises, men like him didn't stay. If they stayed, they strayed--that was if they didn't kill you first.
He ignored her head shake and continued walking through her studio right to the master bedroom. He flicked off the light as he went by the switch, taking her with him. She didn't know why she just followed, why she couldn't tell him no verbally. Maybe because he was the kind of man who would listen to her if she meant it. Did she mean it?
Her gaze strayed down his broad back to his narrow waist and hips. His backside. Her breath hitched in her throat and she nearly stumbled. Who wouldn't want that in her bed? She stroked a hand down her throat and followed him. He was already at the double French doors, opening them wide and walking out onto the gallery. She loved the upper-story balcony even more than the lower one.
Branches extended toward the gallery so a leopard might easily make the short jump to the house. She knew she had an escape route. Now he had another entrance.
"Do you really think it's a good idea for you to stay?" She wanted to go up behind him and slide her arms around his waist to feel his warmth against her body, but she made herself stay right where she was. She was falling for a man she knew nothing about.
He turned his back on the moonlight and swamp to study her face. His eyes gleamed that crystal blue as his gaze moved over her face, dropped lower to slowly, lazily drift over her body and then just as slowly come back up, first to her mouth, making her lips burn, and then her eyes. He focused there, holding her captive, refusing to allow her to look away.
"Staying here with you is as necessary as breathing."
"We could have sex, and then you could leave," she offered. She knew she sounded panicked, and it annoyed her, but who wouldn't panic? Once Joshua
shared her bed she'd always want him there. She was getting in over her head.
"We're going to have sex," he agreed. "I want all night to worship your body. Hell, baby, I have to know every inch of you. I want to wake up with my cock in your mouth or in your body. I want to hold you all night. Every fucking night. Can't sleep without you now."
"I'm pretty certain you already know every inch of me," she said a little desperately. "Why am I the only one trying to be sane here? Sex this intense can't possibly last. It will burn itself out in a day or two and then what?"
He threw back his head and laughed. "Come here."
That low, velvet note of command sent a shiver down her spine. Instantly her sex clenched and her thighs danced with fingers of desire. She went to him because there was no resisting that voice or those eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her tightly against his body. His cock hit her stomach, and there it was, his heartbeat, under her ear, and in the palm of her hand. Just like that, her head was reeling. She was lost.
She tightened her arms around him, pressing her breasts into those rock-hard muscles and her mound against his thigh. She knew he could feel the tremors, but it didn't matter. His arms were around her, and for those few moments, she allowed herself to feel safe. He could do that even when he scared her. She didn't know how. She didn't understand how she could be so confused, but it felt as if she'd been there before, surrounded by him. Held by him. Loved by him. There was nothing like it. If she had his love . . . What was she thinking? Sex wasn't love. It never would be.
Still, she clung to him, a little ashamed of herself for doing so. She'd been lonely, and he'd changed that. She was a little shocked that he didn't press her sexually. He was naked, she might as well have been, but he just held her, his head over hers, protectively. She felt that. She knew the trait was strong in him.
"Are you married, Sonia? Is it your husband threatening you? Is that why you're afraid to commit to me?"
The questions were so soft, a beautiful low tone that mesmerized her. At first the words barely penetrated the fog in her brain. She stiffened when she realized what he'd asked. Stiffened, and tried to pull out of his arms. He tightened his hold on her, his chin nuzzling the top of her head.