Brooke, Leah - Panthers' Prey [Black Panthers 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (6 page)

He’d never in his life experienced a scent that not just tickled, but beat like a sledgehammer against his emotions.

By the time he’d gotten her home and into his bedroom, his cock was hard enough to drive nails.

James hadn’t looked any better, especially when they’d stripped her out of her wet, muddy clothes. They’d done it in record time, both tense, worried, and aroused, neither taking a steady breath until they’d tucked her under the covers.

Each breath he’d taken had teased him with her delectable scent, made worse when he’d uncovered her to check for injuries.

His mood had gotten worse with every scratch he cleaned. His anger that someone would dare do this to her and his own remarkable response to her scent had combined to become something dangerous and primitive inside him, something he didn’t want to look at too closely.

Relieved to find nothing more than a sprained ankle, a bruised neck from where that bastard had been trying to choke her, and an assortment of scratches and bruises, Marc had taken several deep breaths while pacing the room in an effort to regain some sort of calm.

James had left immediately afterward to go back to look around, leaving Marc to endure a sleepless night watching over her and pondering his reaction to the most delectable woman he’d ever met.

He’d never been so scared in his life, and the relief to find her basically unharmed weakened his knees.

From the moment he’d found her, he’d been scared to death she’d been shot.

Now she not only covered herself from him, but looked at him with fear in her golden-brown eyes. Even though she raised her chin defiantly, her full bottom lip trembled, and the scent of her fear made him want to plow his fist into the wall.

She’d invaded his life, taken over his senses, and scrambled his emotions.

And he didn’t even know her name.

Hoping that a bath would calm her and get rid of the scent that made it almost possible to have a rational thought around her, he smiled.

“You don’t have to be scared. Neither one of us will ever hurt you.”

Ever? Why the hell had he said that?

Trying not to stare at the swell of her breasts above the sheet, he took a deep breath.

“What’s your name?” He figured it was only fair that he knew the name of the woman who’d teased the beast inside him and who’d turned his world inside out.

Her hesitation pissed him off, but he kept his features carefully schooled, not wanting to scare her further.

“I know it hurts to talk, but I need to call you something.”

“Bailey.”

Her raspy tone tore at him. Each time she spoke, he relived the horror of finding that son of a bitch trying to choke the life out of her.

“Bailey. Cute. It suits you. Bailey, I’m going to carry you into the bathroom and put you in the tub. Take your time and soak. When you’re done, I’ll take a look at that ankle. Okay?”

While waiting for her answer, he tried to convince himself that he could carry her into the bathroom with her delectable scent tickling his senses, her firm little body pressed against his, and not go out of his fucking mind.

She bit her bottom lip, something he desperately wanted to do himself. “And you’ll leave me alone while I take a bath?”

Biting back a curse, he fought the tenseness that came over him along with the possessive urge to overcome her resistance to his presence.

Hiding his frustration, he nodded once.

“Absolutely. I’m going to go start breakfast. It’ll be ready by the time you’re done. All you have to do is call me and I’ll come help you dress and carry you out there.”

God help him.

She nodded, pulling the sheet more firmly around herself and gripping her clothes tighter against her chest.

“Okay. But I can dress myself. I still have some questions for you, though.”

Gathering her against him felt far different this time than it had the night before.

This time, instead of being naked, he wore clothing while she had nothing more than a sheet covering her. Instead of being unconscious, she stared up at him in fascination with those golden-brown eyes, doing her best to hide the fear he could feel emanating from her.

Instead of being a dead weight in his arms, she held herself stiffly.

One thing, though, remained the same.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, and would kill—die to keep her safe.

He stopped beside the bathtub, gritting his teeth. He could have carried her in his arms all day, and he hated that he had to put her down.

Putting her down, though, meant he would be stripping that sheet off of her and lowering her lush nakedness into the warm water.

He could easily imagine stripping off his clothes and joining her, taking her in his arms and feeling her sleek, wet body against his.

Instead, he had to walk away.

His cock jumped again, pressing uncomfortably against his zipper.

He hardly knew himself like this and certainly didn’t trust himself right now. The animal in him lay just below the surface, the animal that he’d successfully controlled his entire life, the animal that now clawed to be free.

To take what belonged to him.

He couldn’t hope to deal with her until he confronted his own demons and got the beast that yearned for her back under control.

Watching her through the night, he’d noticed a change in himself, one that he needed to come to grips with. For the first time in his life, the man and animal had begun to merge in ways they never had before.

Because of her.

Both the man and the animal wanted her,
needed
her—a primitive need he wouldn’t be able to control much longer, a need that had grown even stronger once he’d tasted her.

The need to take. To protect. To possess.

Wincing as his cock jumped, pressing too hard against his zipper for comfort, he forced himself to inject a calmness into his tone he was far from feeling.

“I’m going to set you down and turn off the water. Can you stand on your good foot for a minute? Hold on to me.”

He set her on her feet, careful not to jar her, allowing her body to slide against his in the sweetest torment he’d ever experienced. Instead of standing, she sank to the side of the tub, her face at eye level with his cock.

God help him.

His cock swelled even more, demanding that he take her, sink into her warm pussy and fuck her until she screamed his name.

Desperate now, he started to grab the clothes out of her hand with the intention of tossing them aside.

When she yelped and jerked away, almost falling into the tub, he grabbed her shoulders instead, his hands lingering on the smooth skin that trembled beneath his hands as he steadied her.

Furious with himself and his lack of self-control, he ripped the clothes out of her hand and tossed them onto the teak bench nearby.

“Damn it, stop pulling away from me!”

The fear emanating off of her in waves shook him, and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

Every time she pulled away from him, he wanted to drag her under him and imprint himself into her soul until she realized where she belonged.

He had to get away from her before the combination of desire, defiance, and fear in her eyes threatened to snap the last tenuous thread of his control.

With an arm around her waist, he lifted her to her feet, a growl breaking free before he could hold it back.

“Fuck it. I’ve had enough of this.”

He ripped the sheet from her, revealing her magnificent curves. Her firm breasts and upturned nipples made his mouth water. Lifting her against him, he couldn’t resist running a hand over her hip, taking advantage of her shock to lower her into the tub and feast his eyes on her nakedness.

As soon as he’d settled her, he yanked his hands out from under her, desperate to get the hell away from her before he did as his body demanded and fuck her senseless.

“Take your bath. Call out when you’re done.”

Inwardly wincing at his gruff tone, he paused at the door, taking a deep breath when he heard the splash of water. Forcing himself not to look back, he dug his fingers into the wooden door frame, and had to clear his throat before speaking.

“That man last night—did you know him?” The question had plagued him all night. The thought that the animal who’d attempted to kill her knew her intimately filled him with a rage he didn’t want to inspect too closely.

“No. I had a flat tire. I was changing it when he stopped.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Marc noted the surprise in her tone, nodded and left, scared that if he stayed any longer, his cock would explode.

Walking through the bedroom, he headed for the kitchen, where he knew James had gone. Eyeing his best friend, he crossed the room.

“Thanks a hell of a lot.”

To his surprise, James took his time looking up from his coffee, his eyes bleak.

“I want her, Marc. I want her so bad I’m fucking shaking with it. That scent. I couldn’t stand it anymore. It’s driving me out of my mind.”

Marc sighed, pulled out the seat opposite James and dropped into it, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration, anguish, and not just a small amount of confusion.

“I know. I feel the same way. As soon as she gets her bath and we feed her, we’ll take her back to her car and get her the hell out of here—at least until we figure out what the hell to do about the fact that both of us want her so much we can’t stand to be in the same room with her without taking her.”

James sighed. “She’s it, you know.”

Marc clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I know. I thought they were full of shit. It appears mates
do
exist.”

Chapter Three

As soon as the door closed behind him, Bailey reached for the soap and started to wash. Clenching her jaw against the arousal that made even the warm water caressing her skin almost unbearable, she soaped the washcloth. Running it over her skin proved to be torture, each brush of it making her wish it was Marc’s hands on her instead of a wet, soapy cloth.

Unable to resist the lure, she ran the cloth over her nipples, shuddering at the surge of heat to her clit and pussy. With another glance at the door, she lay back and closed her eyes, dropping the cloth into the water with a small splash.

Running her hands over her soapy breasts felt good, but not nearly as good as Marc’s strong, slightly callused ones. As hard as she tried to fantasize, she couldn’t
feel
him there the way she’d felt his presence so strongly in the bedroom.

Remembering the look in James’s eyes as he threatened to reach under the covers, she parted her thighs and let her hands trail down her belly to her slit. She didn’t know what it was about both men that aroused her so much, but hoped that an orgasm at her own hands would ease the torment that raged through her.

Touching her throbbing clit, she braced her feet against the edge of the tub and, careful to not jar her ankle, lifted herself slightly. She spread her thighs as wide as she could within the confines of the large soaking tub, the fingers of one hand parting her folds while she used the fingers of the other to stroke her clit.