"Do you honestly think they'll buy it?"
"What else could have happened? We have wounded and dead horses. We have Drake in surgery and you and Kyle alive with very evident wounds, and four dead human bodies, three killed together and one off by itself, dragged from a tree by a leopard from behind, all with wounds consistent with a leopard attack. They'll believe it. They won't be so happy we burned the leopard carcasses, but they'll be very understanding with a man who just lost his parents. Every hand on the ranch will back up the story because they already believe it."
"I just want to go home, Jake," Emma said. "I'm exhausted and still upset and I want to see Andraya. Susan's father should be called and she'll need reassurance too."
He reached around his son and framed her face. "I'm sorry, Emma. I should never have gotten you involved in this."
She turned her face so her cheek rubbed along his palm and she brushed her lips over the pad of his thumb. "He's my son too. You're mine. I'm not letting someone take either of you from me. And that was my choice, Jake."
His heart contracted as he leaned in to kiss her and then pulled her against him, right next to Kyle. He still couldn't say it out loud, because he was afraid something might take them away from him once he actually acknowledged the emotion, but he knew what love was--and it was in his arms, living and breathing, sheltered next to his heart.
20
JAKE hung up the phone and took a long, thoughtful look at the stairway. Emma wasn't feeling good--again. The news on Drake was very good. All of them should have been elated, but Emma had only given Drake a few encouraging words and handed off the phone to Jake--very unlike her.
The police had come and gone, their investigation seemingly over after a few days of intense scrutiny. Hopkins had already pleaded guilty to embezzlement, hoping for leniency. The children had settled back down. Even Susan had gone back home to see her father. Things should have begun to slip back into normalcy, but his Emma wasn't the same. Twice he'd caught her in tears, although she'd said nothing was wrong. She stayed close to the children, almost as if she was afraid something might happen to them. She hadn't objected when he tightened security and asked Brenda to work more days for a while, which was totally unlike Emma--she never wanted anyone else in her home doing her job.
She was moody and edgy and snapped at him more than once today. He sighed and walked to the stairs, rubbing the hand rail back and forth as he started up the stairs. The children were in bed--she'd read stories to them until they both fell asleep--and there was no longer a barrier between them, preventing them from talking, but she still refused to come to him and tell him what was wrong.
He took a breath and let it out, all too aware of his heart pounding with dread. She must have been so frightened. And they could have lost both children. He hadn't warned her of his parents, not really. He'd never shared his childhood with her. He never trusted her enough to give that part of him to her, yet he'd expected her to live with him and with the danger surrounding him. He sank down onto the bottom stair and covered his face with his hands.
He couldn't lose her--not now. Not when he knew she was his world. He had gone from a man selfish enough to maneuver her into his life for all the wrong reasons, pretending to love his son, to loving his son because of her. Emma had shown him how to love. She brought joy into his life. Tenderness. Laughter. He looked forward to every evening, to waking up in the morning. He looked forward to life.
She couldn't leave him. She just couldn't. He had to find a way to let her know what she meant to him. He wasn't certain he could take that step yet. He could at least admit it to himself, but was he already too late? It couldn't be. He lifted his head, determination sweeping through him. She was so close in her leopard's cycle and yet she seemed to be fighting it every step of the way, so much so that she was keeping Jake at a distance.
Could that be the problem? She had told him to accept his cat, to merge and become one, but had she become frightened of her own leopard? How the hell did men ever understand women and their moods?
He stalked up the stairs, determined to force her to talk to him. Emma sat in her favorite chair in her room, the lights off, only moonlight spilling through the window illuminating her face as she stared out into the night. Jake closed the door and locked it, drawing her immediate attention.
"What's wrong, Emma?" he asked quietly.
Her mouth tightened. She took a breath, pushed a hand through her disheveled hair. "Nothing. I'm just enjoying the solitude."
A clear order to leave her alone. He tilted his head, his gaze drifting over her body. She had the allure that females got when they were in need of their mates. When he inhaled and pulled her scent into his lungs, he felt his body stir. She was definitely in her cycle and more than ready, yet she was resisting, sitting stiff, fingers twisting together.
Emma glared up at him. "Quit staring at me, Jake. I'm not in the mood."
"You're in the mood, all right, you just don't want to admit it." His voice purred at her. "If you want me, honey, all you have to do is say so. There's no need to get all moody on me."
Her gaze jumped to his face. "She's in the mood. She's the one edgy, not me. She's insane right now and I'm not letting her out. She was like a sex kitten, rubbing herself all over everything, and I swear in another few moments she might have let that horrible man mount her. She was that bad."
Now he knew. Her leopard had led the male away from the children, seducing him with her every movement. Emma was ashamed of that. Her scent had been all over the banister and she couldn't help but smell it. She'd scrubbed and polished the stairs three times.
"She's you," he reminded gently. "She wouldn't have allowed any other male to mount her any more than you would."
"I detest feeling like this." And she did. Hot. Moody. Out of control. Able to only think of attacking him and having him deep inside her. Was this going to be her life? Sex without love? Was that all there was for her? She didn't want it. Someone else could have it.
Jake slowly unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor beside her chair. Emma's fascinated gaze jumped to his broad chest in spite of her intention to stay in control. He was all roped muscle, his chest broad, his nipples hard, and she felt her body tighten in anticipation as she took in his tapered waist and the expanse of muscle covering his flat belly.
Emma wanted to groan aloud. Her mind protested, but her body caught fire, was already on fire with need. He was just throwing fuel onto the flames. She didn't want this--mindless, without love, just hot sex the only thing that mattered. Yet how could she stop her own body from betraying her? "What do you want, Jake?" Her voice went husky, every nerve ending on alert.
"You, Emma."
She just stared at him, shocked that his voice could reduce her to raw sexual desire.
His eyebrow went up as he dropped his hands to the opening of his jeans. "If your clothes are particular favorites, you might want to get the hell out of them."
She hated that her body reacted to his order, to the velvet seduction in the crude order, her feminine core going completely liquid. Heat rushed through her body and spread like wildfire. With one hand he unsnapped his jeans and his long, thick, very-aroused cock burst free, drawing her mesmerized gaze. Her womb did that now-familiar clenching and fingers of arousal teased her thighs.
"I'm not doing this. Sex rules everything around here and I'm not going to be like that. I'm not, Jake, so just put that thing away."
She might have done better if she'd managed to stop staring with hunger in her eyes, stark and raw, but she knew it was in her expression, in her mind. Consuming her just like it did every moment these days until she could barely think with wanting him inside of her. Not the gentle lovemaking she craved from him, but rough and wild, and God help her, she didn't want to be that person. She wanted to feel love when he touched her, not madness, not a frenzy that was an obsessive craving.
Never taking his golden gaze from her face, Jake shoved the jeans pas
t his narrow hips, and down his legs to kick the material away from him. "Do you think I don't know what you need, Emma?" He looked utterly confident, supremely male.
"I don't care." She swept her hand through her hair. "I don't, Jake. Do you have any idea what it's like for me to find myself rubbing my body all over the bed like I'm a cat in heat? Do you know what I felt like when I . . ." She pressed her lips tightly together and looked away from him.
"Yeah, honey. I do. You walk through the house and I want to flip up your skirt and take you right there in the middle of the kitchen or on the floor. So, yeah, I know what it's like." He stepped closer. "But I also know it's about you now, not any other woman. I know I'm like this because I'm responding to you. Emma. Not just any woman."
She held up his hand to stop him. "I have to get some control."
"No, you don't. You have to let me take care of you."
She leapt from her chair, using her leopard's agility, backing away from him to put the chair between them. He could see and smell the effect he was having on her treacherous body. Her nipples were hard, her breasts swollen and aching. Her panties were damp and useless as any kind of barrier beneath her long skirt.
"It's obsession, Jake."
Jake kept coming, his shaft swaying against his belly with every step he took, a lethal weapon, thick and strong and already leaking small, pearly drops. His scent was an aphrodisiac she didn't need. Her mouth refused to stop watering. She wanted to be like Jake and blame her leopard, but she knew better. She and her leopard were one and the same. She just wanted him. Desperately. She craved his body like some terrible secret addiction that would never go away.
"I don't much care what you want to call it, Emma."
She groaned as his hand surrounded his staff and he stroked it hard, unashamed. Waves of arousal surged through her bloodstream, making her feel lightheaded and dizzy with need. She was grateful she was no longer sitting down or her skirt would have been soaked right along with her panties. She was so hot she was afraid she might spontaneously combust.
She looked so lost. His Emma. Fighting her arousal. For the first time fighting her cat and fighting herself. She needed and he provided. The way of the jungle. The way of their people. His way. "Stop running from me, honey. You're not going to get away."
Jake leapt onto the chair, landing in a crouch, startling her with his sudden aggression. She backpedaled rapidly until she hit the wall and couldn't go any farther. He followed, landing right in front of her, close, so close the pearly drops leaked onto her shirt, his body caging her in, deliberately dominating, triggering her fight reflex. His fingers bit hard into her upper arms as he dragged her even closer, bringing her up onto her toes so he could fasten his mouth to hers in a rough, almost brutal kiss, knowing exactly what she needed.
She kissed him back just as brutally, her teeth sinking into his lower lip, biting down, her nails raking down his back in long streaks, drawing blood.
He groaned, somewhere between passion and pain. "Yeah, honey, that's it," he encouraged. "Put your brand on me." His shaft hardened even more and his hooded eyes filled with lust. "Make them deeper. Brand me as your mate. I want it, Emma. I need it and so do you. Put your fucking brand all over me."
The low growl rumbling in his chest made her womb spasm again. She hated that he was right, that she had to rake his skin and bite at his neck and chest, that she couldn't seem to control the terrible impulses to be rough and crazy and so out of control. She tried to pull back, to find her center but he fastened his mouth on hers again, taking everything she was with his mouth alone. He deliberately branded her, biting down, taking and conquering, overwhelming her with his scent and taste and his very hunger for her.
A tidal wave of lust rose up to meet him and Emma tried to rub her body along his, desperate to feel him inside of her. He ran his hands down her spine to her bottom and lifted her, pushing her mound against his cock, rubbing like a cat in heat. She caught at his shoulders, crying out as sweet pleasure coursed through her body.
He bit out an expletive and tossed her onto the bed, his golden eyes glowing savagely, his leopard and the man rising over her together, one and same, merged so strongly she could see them both stamped into the lust-filled lines in his face. So hungry for her. Ravenous. And she felt the same, her cat rising to edge the surface, moving sensuously along the silk sheets, calling to her mate with every line and curve of her body.
Jake licked at the blood smeared on his lip and her breathing roughened. His tongue flicked out again, tasting the thin trickle, and he reached out, caught the front of her blouse and yanked. The suddenness of his violence sent another wave of arousal pounding through her body. The material parted easily and he swept it aside. Her bra followed, as he easily tore the lace and pulled the scraps away from her arms, leaving her breasts bared for his pleasure.
He tore at her skirt and panties, ripping them from her so that her entire body shuddered with scorching need. She writhed on the bed, her skin so sensitive the sheets sent darts of pleasure sizzling through her veins.
Jake dropped over the top of her, pinning her beneath his hard muscular frame, his mouth crushing hers, driving her lips into her teeth as his tongue speared her mouth. Their tongues tangled as he forced his way in, his mouth bruising, his teeth grazing, over and over as they fed on each other. Her keening noises only drove him wilder, his hand yanking her thighs apart to settle his hips in between, all while his mouth continued to feed at hers.
Emma felt the broad, flared head pushing against her tight entrance and she moaned, bringing her heels onto the sheets and pulling her knees up to give him better access. She was panting now, her body undulating under his, desperate for him to fill her.
His mouth left hers and licked the corner of her lips, her chin, sucked on her neck just below her ear and then bit her earlobe, his hot breath sending another shudder through her body. He marked her throat, licking at the wounds still evident there, leaving his marks covering them. He kissed and sucked his way down her throat to the swell of her breasts as he brought one hand up to cup one creamy mound. He rolled the nipple between his finger and thumb as his mouth nuzzled her other breast and then settled there, his teeth and tongue wickedly nipping and lapping.
Emma cried out, her hands going to his head, yanking him closer by his hair, holding him to her while he bit and sucked and she moaned and writhed under him, arching her body to push her heated flesh into his mouth. All the while his fingers were busy at her other breast, tormenting her nipple, teasing and tugging, even pinching until she was nearly sobbing, wild for him to take her. She spread her thighs wider, pushed with her hips, bucking to force the broad head of his shaft into her hot, moist entrance.
Emma had never felt so aroused, so desperate for him as his teeth scraped at her breasts, sharp, stinging bites that only enflamed her more. She could feel the warm liquid pooling inside her, gushing to engulf the head of his shaft in enticement. She squeezed her inner muscles, making every effort to drag him inside, to force him to fill her and relieve her of the terrible ache that just built and built and yet never eased.
"Please, Jake. Please." She felt frantic, afraid she couldn't wait a moment longer. She was stretched over a rack of desire, of hunger, that seemed insatiable. Building, always building, with no relief. "Jake." His name came out in a sob, a plea.
He reared up on his knees and flipped her over onto her stomach in one lightning-fast move. His arm hooked under her hips and yanked her onto her knees, slamming his shaft deep into her without mercy. She was hot and slick and so tight his breath hissed out between his teeth. Pleasure washed over and through him, her tight muscles strangling him with fire, a scorching inferno that felt like a silken fist clamping around him. He drove through her sheath, not waiting for her to adjust to his size, burying himself deep, withdrawing, listening to her ragged breathing as he poised both of them on the edge of absolute ecstasy. So close. He slammed home again, deeper this time, dragging her hips back to him as
he thrust forward.
Emma screamed. He was too big for her this way, in spite of her slickness, burning and stinging as he drove through her tight folds. "I can't take all of you," she protested, head down, panting, although even now she was helplessly pushing back against him, desperate for him. "You're too big." He was. He really was. But she couldn't stop her body from following his as he withdrew and hammered himself deep again.
Her breath rushed out in a ragged cry. "Jake. It's too much." Flames seemed to engulf her from the inside out. Every part of her body was aroused beyond imagining.
He pulled back, giving her a moment of relief and then slammed inside her again, harder and deeper than the first time. "This is . . ." He pulled back and drove home again, her cries of pain turning to sobs of pleasure. He clenched his teeth and tightened his fingers on her hips. "What we . . ." He pulled her to him as he slammed forward. "Need."
He was right. Every single nerve ending in her body was on fire, the pleasure agonizing, taking her outside herself to another realm. He showed no mercy, pounding into her, driving her higher so that her body clamped down on his, and every breath in her was poised, waiting--waiting, but she couldn't go over the edge. It just wouldn't happen. It was agony, her climax hovering just out of her reach.
"Jake, I can't. I can't." She was sobbing now. "I can't get there and my body's on fire. What's wrong with me? I wanted this so much, I thought and I feel like I'm going insane. I can't . . ."
He loosened his tight grip on her hips and pulled out. Emma cried in protest, but he flipped her back over and dragged her thighs apart, lifting her legs over his arms and slamming deep, harder than ever. He filled her completely, more than filled her, so hot and thick, so deep she swore he was part of her body. But even though he set a merciless pace, each stroke sending streaks of fire through her, she only wound tighter.
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