Tropical Leopard's Longing (Shifting Sands Resort Book 8)

by Zoe Chant

He felt like there were bees under his skin.

  It wasn’t just wanting, it was like being incomplete, and he’d never even realized it, only muddled through in ignorance. And now he knew what he couldn’t have, had looked into the sky blue eyes of pure love… and as much as the rest of him was sure that it was his, meant for him in every way, his head knew it wasn’t.

  It wasn’t just bees under his skin, it was angry bees, and his angry leopard, who didn’t understand why either of them were denying this thing that was so basic and natural.

  He could think of nothing else.

  The knock on his back door made his heart sink. His room in The Den had clearly been intended for the live-in help; it was less grand than the rest of the house, but had its own tiny bathroom, and most importantly, a private entrance, tucked away at the back of the house. What it lacked in view, it made up for in discreet access. That had been useful for private liaisons in the past, but now he only wished he’d never told anyone about it.

  He almost ignored the knock, but his leopard urged him to answer it, and he rose wearily to open the door.

  It isn’t going to be her, he told his leopard as he opened the door. It didn’t make sense that it could be her.

  But it was, and all the bees inside him went absolutely mad.

  “Darla,” he breathed.

  She was panting and her eyes were dark with desire. The bracelet on her wrist was glowing like cheap rave jewelry and she had her opposite hand clamped over it as if she could cover the light of it.

  “You can’t be here,” Breck insisted.

  “I have three nights,” she challenged him. “Three nights until I have to get married and I’m bound forever.

  Breck felt like a guard dog being tested with a juicy steak. He was supposed to overcome this temptation. Hard as it was — and oh, was it hard — he had to turn her away.

  “You can’t be here,” Breck repeated firmly.

  Then she was moving into the room, putting hands against his chest, and hissing at the contact. “I want to be here. I have to be here. Show me what might have been.”

  He wanted to. He wanted to claim her mouth, her sweet body, her very soul. He wanted to lay her down on his bed and show her how to make it sing.

  “It’s not fair… to Liam,” he said desperately. “You are his.” Saying it out loud made it hurt worse.

  Darla paused, then gave a small laugh. “I will never be his,” she said, shaking her head. “Oh, I will be bound to him by contract, but I will never… Liam doesn’t want me. He can’t be with me this way.”

  Breck felt like his brain was moving very slowly. It was very hard to think with Darla’s hand burning holes through his thin shirt. “He’s gay?” he ventured. It didn’t quite make sense.

  “He’s ace… asexual. He’s not interested in anyone, he doesn’t like sex at all.” Her hands were moving on his chest, fingers barely flexing, like a kneading cat.

  Asexual.

  “Oh,” he said stupidly, thinking of Liam’s odd lack of reaction. He’d known there was such a thing as ace, but never knowingly encountered it before. “I thought I was just losing my touch,” he had to chuckle. “That actually explains a lot.”

  I told you he wasn’t a rival, his leopard reminded him.

  “He knows I’m here,” Darla said. “He’s the one who told me how to get here. Please, Breck, please… once I’m married, I won’t be able to do this, ever, and I have three days left that I don’t want to waste the way I’ve already wasted so much of my life. Please, please...”

  Breck gathered her face in his hands, the silky sweep of her hair on his fingertips. He leaned close, not quite believing his luck. “If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, so close to her mouth that he could feel her breath on his lips. She was straining against his hands towards him, and it took all of his willpower to wait there for her spoken answer.

  “I don’t want you to stop,” Darla told him fiercely. “I want you to show me how to live.”

  Breck’s fingers curled, and he closed the distance between their mouths with all the hunger he had been fighting since he had first seen her.

  She opened her mouth and kissed him back with the fire that Breck had known was lurking beneath her sweet exterior, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body into his.

  It was almost too much. He was going to overflow with the need and desire she woke in him. He was going to lose himself entirely in her kiss. He was going to burn away to nothing in the heat of her passion. He was going to...

  He was going to embarrass himself if he didn’t take steps.

  Greatest lover who ever set foot on Shifting Sands, indeed.

  Breck caught her face in his hands again and pulled slowly away. “Wait,” he growled. “Slow down…”

  Darla whimpered and tried to claw him closer to her. “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, panting. “And I know you aren’t…”

  For a fleeting moment, Breck felt guilty. But his leopard reminded him, Every other lover was worth it, to best learn how to pleasure our mate.

  And pleasure her he would.

  Breck turned Darla around in his arms, to her confusion, then bent and kissed her neck from behind, slow and hot, from her shoulder to the bottom of her ear. Her breath hitched as he took the lobe gently between his teeth, and reached around her to start carefully, slowly unbuttoning her dress.

  With every button, he paused, kissing first one side of her neck, then the other, nibbling, licking, brushing back her hair with deliberate fingers.

  She didn’t know what to do with her hands, fluttering them helplessly as he coaxed a flush of desire over her fair skin. He licked her shoulder and blew on it, just to make her shiver.

  As her dress finally fell from her, she tried to turn, and he resisted her, cupping her breasts from behind and letting one hand trail down her stomach as she squirmed.

  “Breck,” she begged. “Breck, please…”

  He pressed against her so she could feel how badly he wanted her, and almost lost his resolve when she ground back against him. One hand caressed her breasts, his thumb over a hard nipple and fingers tracing the place beneath where soft breast met soft flesh. The other hand teased lower, not touching where she wanted it most, but fingering the band of her underwear, circling her bellybutton, touching her thighs.

  She writhed, and begged wordlessly, and when he finally walked his fingers down inside her underwear to find her clit, she gave a little cry and jerked in pleasure and shock. He teased it gently, then slipped his fingers deeper into her, letting his other hand continue to squeeze and caress her breasts. She was dripping wet, and he could just keep the pressure on her clit with the heel of his hand as he stroked into her with his fingers; it was only a few blissful moments before she was going rigid in his arms as pleasure crested over her.

  He kissed her as she caught her breath again, and nibbled at her neck and earlobes. He didn’t resist as she turned this time, and kissed her deeply.

  “I want you,” she begged through ragged breaths. “I want you in me.”

  Breck had to battle his own desire for the same thing to grin at her. “Patience,” he cautioned. “I have only just begun…”

  Chapter 25

  Darla could feel him, hard against her from behind, and knew that if Breck had not been holding her up with one strong arm, her knees would have given out as he brought her to the heights of pleasure and eased her down again.

  “I want you,” she begged him shamelessly when he had released her mouth. “I want you in me.” His cock was hard against her; it felt huge through his khaki pants, and Darla was dying to release it.

  But Breck smiled at her and his smile was like a promise they couldn’t make. “Patience,” he said, in that low silky voice that made her even wetter. “I have only just begun.”

  He laid her back down on his bed — it was a broad bed with generous pillows and a silky comforter that slipped erotica
lly beneath her — and stripped her soaking underwear off of her, cupping the cheeks of her ass in his hands as he did. Then he was kissing her stomach, the underside of her breasts, the top of her hips.

  When his lips finally brushed her nethers, she cried out without meaning to, and he was licking and kissing her, agonizingly slowly as his fingers once again spread her. From this angle, he could reach deeper, and Darla squirmed, helpless with need and delight as he thrust into her, raising her slowly to a fever pitch of pleasure.

  He didn’t let her crest that time, slowing when she might have, and she whimpered and clung to his shoulders.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please…”

  To her delight, he pulled away from her then and unbuttoned his pants. She sat up, panting, because she didn’t want to miss a moment or a sight, and when he pulled off his briefs with the khakis, she gave a sharp inhale at the view.

  Then he was on her again, leaning her back into the pillows with kisses and caresses as he laid his cock against her, but refused to press in.

  Darla could not have said how long he teased her with it, just enough pressure to promise, but never entering as he kissed her mouth rough and nibbled at her neck. He growled at her, the vibration of it shuddering through her skull, and rolled her earring with his tongue.

  She begged and tried to press herself up and around him, full of desperation and desire, and he taunted her by pulling away, until she was a tangled ball of need and heightened sensation.

  Then, at last, he pressed into her, in one long, slow thrust that joined them on some new level of pleasure and he was trying to shush her with a kiss because she could not help but keen out loud in pleasure.

  He continued to thrust, almost painfully slowly, and Darla tried in vain to keep herself quiet as all the nerve endings in her body seemed to burn with bliss.

  “Shhh,” Breck reminded her, though he looked enormously pleased with himself. He withdrew, making Darla give a little guttural cry of loss, then rolled her over in the bed and pressed into her from behind. Darla stuffed her face into a pillow and screamed as pleasure rolled over her, clawing at the sheets and thrusting herself back against him desperately.

  As her senses slowly returned from the overwhelming orgasm and the aftershocks gradually died away, Darla pulled away from Breck and rolled over.

  He had a look of intense concentration and desperation, and when he buried himself into her again, Darla could feel the way all his muscles were bunched up tight in almost agonized self-control.

  “Breck,” she said, reaching up to cradle his face. “Oh, Breck.”

  The sound of his name on her lips seemed to crack him. His weight came down over her as he crushed her into his arms and began to really thrust in earnest.

  She cried his name again, arms and legs wrapped around him, and found one last, unexpected wave of pleasure as he made a helpless noise of release and the heat of his seed filled her.

  Chapter 26

  Breck cradled Darla in his arms, tangled in the middle of the mussed bed. A light blanket had been sloppily pulled over them to keep the night chill off their sweat-drying skin.

  He would have been content to stay there forever, given the chance, but she stirred.

  “I’m sore,” she said in tired delight, and it made Breck’s leopard give a growly purr of satisfaction.

  “I’m not sorry,” Breck chuckled, nibbling at her neck.

  “I hope you haven’t left any bite marks,” Darla said with a giggle. “Might be hard to explain those to Mother.”

  Breck turned his nibbles to gentle kisses. “Nothing that won’t be gone by morning,” he promised.

  The words, gone by morning, slowed his kisses and made him hold her tighter.

  She would be gone by morning.

  And two days after that, she would be gone forever.

  The languid contentment vanished, like a drop of soap chasing a rainbow film of oil away.

  “I shouldn’t stay long,” Darla said sadly, turning in his arms. “But I’m so glad I came.”

  “And came and came and came…” Breck teased.

  She flushed, and giggled, and buried her face into a pillow to muffle her laughter as it edged to hysterical.

  Breck wrapped her up in his arms and tickled her, spurred by her laughter.

  Then they lay curled together again, and Darla stroked her fingers down his arms as if mesmerized. “Did you grow up here?” she asked quietly.

  “At Shifting Sands?” Breck asked. “It’s only been open a few years, though it was originally built in the 80s. No, I grew up in Detroit. My parents died when I was young, and my grandfather raised me. He was a steel worker, before the big factory crash.”

  “Did you get along well?”

  “Better than you’d think,” Breck said with a chuckle. “He was an old-fashioned Catholic union worker, and I… well, I’ve always been me. But we were family, and we loved each other even when we didn’t exactly see eye to eye.”

  “Did he… disapprove of you?” Darla asked shyly.

  “I always thought he did, but then he got sick, and he was in the hospital, and we had one of those long heart-to-hearts like you see in the movies. He told me that as long as I never hurt people or took advantage of them, there was nothing wrong with enjoying life and he sort of wished he’d done more of it himself.”

  “Did he… die?”

  Breck smiled fondly at the memory. “Not then,” he said cheerfully. “Made a miraculous recovery and spent another five years torturing the nurses at his retirement home.” He looked at Darla thoughtfully. “He would have been a lot more comfortable in a home with other shifters,” he mused.

  The mention of the shifter retirement home brought a solemn stillness to Darla’s face.

  “What about you?” Breck asked swiftly. “Where did you live?”

  Darla’s voice had a calmness that Breck recognized as practiced. “I went to the finest schools all over the world. Private grammar school in New York. Two finishing schools in Europe, with a semester in China. I can curtsy like a queen and speak French fluently. I know how to dance and host dinner parties and all sorts of useless things, but I don’t think I ever lived at all before I met you.”

  They talked into the night, and made love again, and simply lay together not-quite-sleeping.

  At last, they had to admit that dawn was coming too fast, and Breck reluctantly helped her button her dress back up and find her lost sandals. He put them on for her, worshipfully caressing the curve of her leg as he did, and then walked her out his back door to the edge of the retaining wall at the back of The Den.

  They paused there, holding hands, not willing to say their last goodbye, until Darla turned and threw herself into his arms, her face just briefly lit by the light from the house.

  “I love you,” she said into Breck’s chest, and he held her tighter until her ribs creaked, kissing her hair. “I have to go,” she said miserably.

  “I know,” Breck barely managed to say.

  They shared one last kiss, gentle, almost chaste, and then she turned away and fled away down the path. Breck watched her disappear past a hedge, and listened to her footsteps on the gravel until they were drowned by the sounds of the ocean and jungle night.

  Then he turned unhappily away… and drew up short at the looming shape of Graham, holding a shovel like he was considering using it on Breck.

  “What’s your problem?” Breck asked unhappily.

  “My problem is, that was the bride,” Graham said flatly. “The one who’s getting married in two damn days. Of all the people you could be screwing…”

  Breck was full of anger and frustration already, and hearing Graham calling what they’d just done screwing was too much.

  He balled up his fists and stepped forward. Graham gave a humorless grin, dropped the shovel, and raised his own fists.

  “She’s my mate,” Breck growled.

  Graham stepped back in astonishment, his hands falling to his side.


  For a long moment, they stood that way. Then Breck let his own hands fall. “She’s my mate,” he said again, in agony.

  Graham swore, colorfully, and paced around in a circle. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked when he was back around to face Breck.

  “What can I do?” Breck said helplessly. “She’s marrying someone else in two days. This… this is all I get.”

  Graham frowned. “You’re not going to stop the wedding?”

  “It’s complicated,” Breck said flatly.

  “Good,” Graham said unsympathetically.

  “Good?”

  “If you broke up that wedding, you’re not the one who’d pay for it,” the lion shifter pointed out. “Scarlet’s the one with everything at stake, and she’d lose Shifting Sands. You’d bankrupt the resort. We’d all be out on our asses.”

  The consequences had occurred to Breck, but he hadn’t realized that Shifting Sands was that close to the edge. He was mostly surprised that Graham sounded so invested. “Well, Scarlet and the resort are safe,” Breck growled. “I haven’t got a chance in hell of stopping the wedding.”

  Graham was quiet, which wasn’t unexpected. “Sorry,” he finally growled.

  Breck wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but he was sick of sorry. “Whatever,” he answered miserably.

  “Anyone else know?” Graham asked.

  Breck gave a humorless laugh. “The fiance. Chef.”

  “So, probably Magnolia,” Graham surmised. “That all?”

  “As far as I know,” Breck said. “Saina knows I have a mate, but doesn’t know who.”

  “Good,” Graham said. “Less that know the better.” He turned on his heel and Breck realized that he meant to leave.

  “Wait,” Breck said desperately. “What do I do?”

  Graham gave a dark, rusty laugh as he stalked away into the darkness. “How would I know?”

  Breck let him go, knowing that as desperately as he wanted to, there really was nothing he could do but treasure the short time that they had.

  Chapter 27