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

by Leah Brooke

  Taking a deep breath, he smiled reassuringly, as though she would fall for that. “Okay. Let me see your ankle.”

  Kneeling beside the bed, he held out his hand, eyeing her expectantly. “Well?”

  Sneaking a glance toward the bathroom, and then another toward the open bedroom door, Bailey weighed her chances of getting away. She didn’t understand why the hell they both seemed to affect her so strongly and, because of it, she no longer trusted her own instincts.

  A hard blow to someone who’d learned to trust her own instincts more than she trusted any person on the face of the earth.

  Wearing a sheet and with an injured ankle, she lacked her normal confidence and wanted, very much, to get it back.

  She had a strong suspicion that the only way she’d be able to clear her head would be to get as far away as she could from both men as soon as possible.

  Disturbed that his nearness sparked a renewed awareness that intensified her arousal, she clenched her jaw and moved back a few more inches. She couldn’t understand how she could be so turned on by both of them so much. Unused to the surge of lust that made it hard to even think, she struggled to rebuild her defenses.

  They had to have drugged her. If they had any plans for her, they would be sorely disappointed.

  “My ankle’s fine. Since you and your friend seem to find something wrong with how I smell, maybe it’s better if you stayed back.”

  She did smell sweaty, but it wasn’t as bad as they made out. Still, if it kept them away…

  Why the hell did that hurt her feelings?

  Clenching his jaw, James placed a hand on her knee, and even through the covers, the electric current from his touch startled her so much that she froze, almost losing her hold on the sheet. Coming to her senses, she gasped, yanking her clothes and the sheet to her throat.

  Her breath hitched at the wave of longing that went through her, a hunger unlike any she’d felt before, one that made her pussy and bottom clench and scrambled her thinking.

  To her surprise, James looked just as startled, staring at the hand that almost negligently caressed her knee as though he’d never seen it before. He blinked when she jerked the sheet as though coming out of a trance, his eyes lifting to hers and narrowing into slits.

  She stilled when his lips curved, a slow smile that made her clit throb with renewed vigor and sent a chill of alarm through her.

  His warm brown eyes twinkled with playfulness.

  “I’ve been trying to get the image of you naked out of my mind all night. Don’t make me stick my hand under there to get to your ankle. Who knows what I might encounter?”

  Alarmed at the jolt of heat to her slit, she jerked her leg away, crying out at the sharp stab of pain in her ankle. Unnerved at the arousal that seemed to keep growing despite her best efforts, she slapped at him.

  “Leave me alone, damn it. Just get the hell away from me.”

  Without making a sound, Marc came racing back into the room, startling the hell out of her.

  “What the hell’s going on?” He stopped abruptly, his nostrils flaring, and scowled at James. “Jesus! What the hell did you do? She’s—hell. That scent. She’s even more aroused.”

  James nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face. Bowing his head, he blew out a breath and just as quickly breathed in another, closing his eyes as though savoring it. “Okay. Now I need to get out of here for a minute.”

  * * * *

  Marc gritted his teeth against the surge of blood rushing to his cock, one that made him so hard it hurt. He grimaced as he watched his friend leave, swallowing the automatic urge to call him back.

  Finding himself alone with her was no hardship, but he needed some time away from her to absorb the enormity of the situation he suddenly found himself in.

  Adjusting his jeans to gain a little more room, he breathed in the most alluring scent he’d ever experienced, wallowing in it like an addict who couldn’t get enough.

  He’d delighted in the scent of a woman’s arousal all of his adult life, but the sweet scent of hers threatened to steal the little bit of self-control he had left.

  Whether helpless or spitting fire, she shook his hard-earned control to the point that he found it difficult to think straight around her.

  God, he wanted her. No, what he felt went way past want.

  If it had only been sex, he would have felt a hell of a lot better. After carrying her almost two miles, he’d spent the night watching her sleep and missing the feel of her in his arms.

  He still itched to hold her, to feel her nestled warm and safe against his chest.

  The urge to join her in bed, to keep her warm and reassure himself that she was safe plagued him all night long. Reliving the horror of that other man choking her over and over, he’d been unable to sit still, the restlessness inside him even stronger than it had been before he found her.

  Throughout the night, she’d whimpered and thrown off the covers as though trying to escape, her sobs as she grabbed at her throat tearing him up inside.

  He’d gone to her each time, surprised at how quickly she’d responded to his crooning tone. His touch also seemed to calm her, and once she’d settled, she allowed him to cover her again. Scared that she would hurt herself, he’d also gently pulled her hands from her throat, relieved that she’d allowed it.

  The fact that she trusted him so completely, even in her sleep, without ever setting eyes on him, confirmed his suspicions more than anything.

  Something told him that after today, his life would never be the same.

  Now he just had to figure out what to do about it.

  Unsettled at how strongly she affected him, he’d done his best to keep his distance from her. When she’d tripped, he’d reacted instinctively, catching her against him.

  Having her naked and in his arms, clinging to him as though she never wanted to let him go, he’d wanted to toss her back into bed and spend the day taking her every way imaginable.

  He had already known that the honey-blonde curls covering her mound almost exactly matched the long, silky hair that flowed like a waterfall down her back. He’d also known the curls hiding her secrets felt just as soft.

  His mouth had watered, the hunger to taste the sweet juices coating her creamy thighs bringing out the feral animal in him, and he’d reached for her before he could prevent it.

  When she’d arched toward him in invitation, nothing on earth could have stopped him from tasting her.

  Now that he was alone with her again, his body demanded that he take her just as fiercely as his mind insisted that he step back. He had to get a fucking grip on himself before he did irreparable damage to the trust she had for him, trust she probably didn’t even know about. He had to build on that and do whatever it took to make Bailey part of his life.

  It took tremendous effort not to rip the sheet from her, bury his face between her thighs, and feast on her again. Her defiance by covering herself from his eyes enraged him, challenging him to overcome it.

  She was his, damn it. From the moment she’d set foot in his woods, she belonged to him.

  Because he’d shifted back from panther form, he’d been naked when he’d held her against him. Listening to every breath she took, he’d carried her limp form over two miles in the darkness, every step both torture and heaven. The tantalizing scent emanating from her threatened to bring him to his knees several times.

  He’d never smelled anything like it.

  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.

&
nbsp; “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.