Panther's Claim (Bitten Point #2) (11 page)

“Of course I did. I told my mom. Who then announced it to the world on Facebook.”

Good thing he didn’t believe in social media, although it might explain the congratulations he’d gotten on his way into the library with Cyn today.

“Speaking of your folks, why did they show up? Because you sure as hell never mentioned they were coming.”

“You’d know why if you’d stuck around instead of running with your tail tucked to have a shower and abandoning me to papa bear and mama wolf,” she accused, firing him an intense glare.

“They’re your parents,” was his cop-out.

“What man leaves a girl he just dragged to a strip joint to get interrogated by my dad?”

“A smart and still living one.” There wasn’t an ounce of repentance in his reply or grin.

“You are a bad cat.”

“The baddest, honey. Feel free to punish me anytime.” For a guy determined to try and slow shit down, he kept daring her to touch him.

Yes, touch me.

Instead, she snorted. “You wish. Now that my parents are gone, you’re all Mr. Suave and Sexy, but I haven’t forgotten your cold shoulder in the truck. What the heck was that about? Did my
garden
not appeal?” She wasn’t about to let him off the hook, it seemed.

But how to explain that the fact he’d lost control enough to mark her scared the living fuck out of him? Like seriously scared.

Was he ready for the type of commitment a mating entailed? One woman, one pussy, one person to go home to for the rest of his life?

Until we have cubs.
The reminder did not reassure, but rather than shy away from her and use the opening she gave, he reassured her. “I’ve never played in a nicer garden.”
Argh. Shoot me now.

“Shooting you would be too kind.”

Oops.
She wasn’t supposed to hear that. “I’m feeling really uncertain right about now.”

“And I’m feeling rather uncomfortable in this wet towel.”

Was she really? Because he was rather enjoying the fact that they were both still sitting on the floor, him a lap for her to cuddle in.

Wouldn’t I enjoy it more, though, if she took off the towel?

Fucking right he would.

Slam on the brakes.

Why couldn’t he stay in control for five minutes where Cyn was concerned?
Let me have some semblance of pride or a choice.

Except it seemed there was no choice. Much as it might terrify, there was something happening between the two of them. Something he couldn’t seem to stop, and really, did he even want to?

With Cyn, he came
alive
. What kind of idiot would throw that way?

I
’m such an idiot
.
Or a masochist. No matter how many times Daryl blew hot and cold at her, Cynthia couldn’t help but want him.

At times, she wondered if he suffered the same confusion over what happened between them. Did he also struggle against the undeniable pull drawing them together? She would have thought the bite mark made things clearer, but instead, it had made things worse.

Do I want him?

Yes.

Then why did she still fight it? Why fight what they both wanted?

Why indeed? It wasn’t as if they had anything else to do. The hour was now too late to allow for a proper search, and she could admit, to at least herself, that she didn’t feel safe outside in the dark. Then again, today proved the daytime was no safer.

She had almost died today in that car crash. Then almost died again when Daryl’s dexterity with his hands and tongue brought her an ecstasy that stopped her heart for an eternity or two. She certainly remembered being unable to breathe.

She definitely wanted to do it again. She wondered if the intensity and pleasure were a one-time deal? Could they even come close to replicating what they’d shared a second time?

She wouldn’t mind finding out, and since they were in for the night, no time like the present to find out. The questions now was, take the bold or sly approach?

She couldn’t have said if it was chance or intention that her towel got snagged when she stood from his lap. Did it matter? She added an extra swing to her hip as she walked away from him to the bedroom.

He might have made a strangled sound. He definitely didn’t sound all there when he remarked, “Cyn, you seem to have lost your towel.”

She tossed him what she hoped was a coy look over her shoulder. She couldn’t be entirely sure of the effect, given she felt her hair drying in a fluffy mane around her head.

Hard to worry about hair, though, when she stood completely naked in front of a guy who’d just jumped to his feet and stalked her, and she meant stalked. Every step measured, his eyes practically glowing and smoldering with erotic intent.

He stopped barely an inch from her body. Head cocked, she met his stare, licked her lips, and threw herself at him when his arms wrapped around her, yanking her off her feet for a kiss.

How he confused her with his mixed signals, but dammit, that didn’t mean she resisted his touch.

Their passion was wild, almost violent in its intensity. He might have rammed her against the nearest wall, or she might have dragged him there. Either way, her spine pressed into the firm surface, her legs spread at the insistent push of his thigh. His hands held her pinned, feet not quite touching the ground.

She devoured his lips, loving the taste of him, loving the sizzling passion that never failed to erupt every time they touched. A passion that seemed to grow, not lessen with every new caress.

“You’re driving me completely mad, Cyn,” he rumbled against her lips.

She nipped him and murmured back, “It’s not that bad once you get used to the strange looks.”

“I want you so fucking bad it hurts.”

“Then why aren’t you doing something about it?” She let her lips travel the length of his rough jaw then down the strong column of his neck. She sucked, unable to prevent herself from leaving some kind of mark on his skin.

Marking him as mine.

He didn’t seem to mind because, head tilted back, he groaned, even as his leg moved slowly against her, the fabric of his pants a welcome friction against her moist sex.

She let out a small cry of surprise as he lifted her higher, enough that her legs could wrap around his waist. He slipped a hand between their bodies, finding her trembling core and sliding a finger in.

She clenched at him, wanting more. Wanting him. His cock. Inside her. Thrusting. Now!

A sound of frustration left her lips as her questing hands couldn’t quite reach far enough to rid him of those annoying pants.

“Need help?”

“I need you.” She said the words without even thinking, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

He also acted. The finger left her channel, the whir of a zipper filled the silence, and the hot head of his shaft slapped against her a moment later.

As he rubbed the swollen tip against her nether lips, she couldn’t help but shudder. Anticipation made her muscles tighten so that, when he went to slide the head of his dick into her, he had to push, her snug sheath too excited to relax.

While one hand gripped her ass, the other cupped her face, drawing her to him for a kiss. How that man could kiss. Exploring and nibbling and teasing.

She sighed, and he slammed his cock home.

Sweet heavens, yes!

She locked her legs tight around him and snared him as well with her arms, keeping him close, loving the decadence of his T-shirt against the bare skin of her upper body. As he thrust, quicker and quicker, his kisses slowed until, with a groan, he rolled his head back. The cords in his neck bulged. He was holding off, holding off for her.

Not for much longer. She was right there, on the cusp. Each time he buried himself to the hilt, her pleasure edged higher.

She licked the exposed part of his neck, humming against his skin as he pumped her hard and fast. In and out, he slammed his cock, not too rough, but not too gentle either. Hard, fast, and passionate, just the way she wanted him.

“Give it to me.” Did she growl it aloud? He certainly took things to the next level, and her sex gripped him, fisted him tight.

And then he changed the angle, just a little bit. He hit that sweet spot within her.

That did it. “Oh my God, I’m coming.”

She burst. At least that was how it felt, as if a dam in her had opened, letting pleasure swamp her with wave upon wave. It was too much. Too much. Too…

She bit him, her teeth latching to flesh and holding on as she kept shuddering and groaning. She didn’t let go, even though he yelled her name, “Cyn!” and came with hot spurts.

Together they clung to each other, wrung weak by the tsunami of bliss. Shaking with the aftermath. Then sinking to the bed he carried her to, still entwined. As she placed her head against his chest, she smiled as she thought of her next call to her mom.

Cynthia: Yeah, so what should I do if Daryl needs a scarf to hide something?

Mom: Why would you hide it? Let the ladies and tramps know he’s off the market.

W
aking
the next morning with a luscious mocha honey against his body? Awesome.

Seeing his neck in the mirror after he took care of business in the bathroom?

“What the fuck? Cyn! Cyn!”

He bellowed her name as he stalked to the bedroom then almost fell over his suddenly ungainly feet because she rolled in his bed, flopping onto her back. The sheet pulled away during her twist, and she’d not dressed after their playtime—
Rowr
! What this meant was a stunning display of breasts. Breasts he knew intimately.

We should go over and say hello again.

No, he had to focus. He needed to have a serious talk with Cyn.

It’s too early to talk.

Yeah, and according to his panic, too early to get serious about a girl.

Say that to the bite you left on her thigh.

Excuse him, but they were talking about her lapse in judgment, not his. “Do you know what you did?” The words emerged a tad growly.

“I know, and I enjoyed.” She licked her lips and winked. “But I gotta say I thought only roosters crowed at the crack of dawn.” Pulling her arms overhead, Cyn stretched as she yawned.

He couldn’t help but stare, harden, and desire. Maybe he should get back in bed with her?

Stay strong.

The sheet slipped farther, showing the rounded swell of her belly, the indent of her waist, the top of her garden.

Meowr?
Such a pained sound, and it came from him as she flashed him. But he would resist. He’d seen boobies before, and just because hers were splendid was no reason to forget his complaint.

“Don’t you try and distract me,” he said, wagging a finger. He pointed at his neck. “Look at what you did.”

“I see it.” She smiled.

Did she not understand the gravity? Perhaps if he explained. “You bit me. Why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you shouldn’t have.” Weakest reply ever and it wiped the smile from her face.

“Well, that’s priceless coming from you, seeing as how you bit me first.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but under her breasts, causing them to plump. It also pushed them together, creating a mysterious valley—
that is really begging to get explored, with my tongue
.

Argh. She was doing it again, playing dirty, and the blood fueling his brain fled south, which was why he made the colossal error of saying, “That bite was a mistake.”

The narrowing of her eyes almost saw him take a step in retreat. “A mistake?” She flung back the sheet, spread her thighs—
thighs that were wrapped around my waist last night—
and pointed to the perfect crescent on the inside of her thigh. “Do you often make mistakes like that?”

“No.” Because he wasn’t even entirely sure it was a mistake. A part of him screamed this was right. She was right. And perfect. Yet… “I’m not ready for this.” He could feel the panic clawing at him. Or was that desire because, really, instead of an urge to run from the woman who challenged him, he wanted to dive on her?

Oops. Wait, he did. He yanked her arms over her head and pinned her to the mattress.

“Now what are you doing?” she asked, trying to sound cross, but instead coming across as slightly breathless.

“Saying good morning hopefully without my foot first.”

“I really wish you’d make up your mind on what you want.”

“You.” Yeah, the word slipped out.

Her eyes widened, however she didn’t have a chance to reply as his phone chose that moment to ring. He dove on it before he had to deal with his admission. He should have checked the number first.

“Hi, Mama.” Practically said on a sigh.

“Don’t you hi me,
gatito
.”

It was too much to hope Cyn didn’t hear. The giggle said it all.

No matter how many times he begged—and pleaded with his biggest eyes—his mother kept calling him
gatito
. Translated: kitten in Spanish. He was a grown man. It just wasn’t right.

His mother didn’t care if he thought it emasculating, just like she cared too much about his love life. “What is this I hear about you seeing a woman?”

“You know I don’t believe in dating.”

The hot glare between his shoulder blades practically turned him into ash.

His mother sniffed. “It is only because you have yet to find the right woman,
gatito
. Your sister says you are living with a girl you just met.”

“No, I’m not.”

A cleared throat as Cyn objected. Damn her acute hearing.

And damn his mother’s sharp ears, too. “Are you going to deny a woman has been sleeping at your place the last two nights?”

“Okay, there is a girl staying here. But it’s not what you think.”

“Two nights. And you’ve been spending the day with her. Don’t deny it. My sources saw you.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t spy on me.”

“What else is a mother to do if she wants to know what her son is up to? A good thing, too, or I wouldn’t know you’d gotten serious with this girl.”

“Who says it’s serious?”

His mother let out a very unladylike snort. “You let her sleep over. Twice.”

“You make it sound like I only have one-night-stands,” he hissed into the receiver, feeling heat roasting the tips of his ears.

“Those girls you’re dating might as well have been. You never brought them to your place.”

Because he had this thing about sleeping alone, a rule he’d now broken and didn’t regret.

He flashed a glance at Cyn and caught her smiling smugly.

“You’re reading too much into this. I’m just helping her out with something.”

Cyn snickered before she drawled, “You’ve been helping me all right.” And, yes, the minx did wiggle on the bed and wink.

“Can she cook?”

In the bedroom, totally. But that wasn’t what his mother wanted to know. “Listen, Mom. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you, my
gatito
.”

“Love you, too, Mama.”

A man wore his embarrassment as a badge of honor. He spun to face Cyn, who grinned. “Who’s a cute gatito? I would have never pegged you for a mama’s boy.”

“I am not.” Much.

“I won’t judge you for it. I’m sure there’s no way your mother is as bad as mine.”

I wouldn’t wager on that.

The phone rang again, a soundtrack from the
Minions
movie. He didn’t even have to look at the number when he answered. “Hey, Melanie.”

“Who’s Melanie?” Cyn mouthed, an irritated look on her face.

“It’s my sister,” he mouthed back.

The beaming smile proved very distracting, which was why he turned away again, but it didn’t stop his sister’s whispered, “Is that girl you’ve been hanging out with there right now?”

Amongst shifters, who possessed rather decent hearing, secrets were hard to keep and conversations were rarely private.

Before Daryl could reply, Cyn did, loudly and with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Hi, I’m Cynthia. Your brother’s been helping me look for my friend Aria.”

Daryl held the phone away from his ear as his sister shouted, “You’re the girl Renny and Caleb have been helping.”

“Along with Constantine and Wes,” Cyn added.

“Wes is working with you, too? Not that I care,” his sister quickly added.

At this point, he realized who was the third wheel. Daryl held out his phone and, in his most sarcastic tone, said, “I’m sorry. Am I getting in the way of your talking to my sister?”

It wasn’t just Cyn who said yes.

He could only gape as his honey grabbed the phone, tucked it to her ear, and began chatting with Melanie.

Blink.

This wasn’t happening.

First his mother meddling in his love life, which should be noted wasn’t new, but usually his mother tried to fix him up with the daughters of friends, girls Daryl never bothered with. This was the first time his mother had taken an interest in a woman Daryl found on his own.

Actually, she found me.
And he’d not been able to stay away from her since.

Shit. How did that happen? How could he not be tired of her yet? Or ready to have some alone time and “me” space?

To the sound of Cyn and his sister talking, he wandered out of his bedroom, utterly bemused. Only a day or so ago, he was a single swinging bachelor. He’d almost earned his own table at the Itty Bitty he enjoyed the entertainment so much.

He had a feeling Cyn might have ruined him when it came to breasts and half-naked women.

Despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember a single exotic dancer now that Cyn had taken the stage, not only in his memories, but his heart, too.

All he saw when he closed his eyes was her. The recollection of her splayed across his bed, skin a tempting chocolate, lips so berry bright and plump.

We should break the phone and give her a proper good morning. Maybe nibble on that other thigh.

Argh. No. Slow down. Going to her now would admit something, something he was still in denial about. A man needed coffee before dealing with relationship woes.

As he sipped the hot brew—with eight cubes of sugar, cream, and then a cement mixer to stir the sweet sludge—he listened to Cyn chatting and laughing with his sister.

A few minutes later, she wasn’t laughing as she strode out of the bedroom, phone in hand, utterly naked. “You never told me you had twin nephews.”

“I told you I had nephews.”

“Yeah, but you neglected to mention they were twins. Do they run in the family?”

Couldn’t they talk about something else, such as her need to put on a nun’s outfit? But no, she continued to taunt with her nakedness, and the glint in her eyes said she wanted an answer.

“Twins tend to run on my dad’s side.”

Cyn frowned. “You could have warned me.”

“Warned you? Why would it matter?”

She arched a brow and cocked a hip, which proved rather interesting, given she did it naked. However, his distraction didn’t mean he missed her words, but he still made her repeat them.

“I said you didn’t use a condom. So unless
you’re
on the pill, then babies are a possibility.”

A man was entitled a long blink while he processed this. He could even hyperventilate a bit. Babies? No. Oh hell no. Yet, she was correct. They’d skipped protection. Daryl rarely used condoms because his kind proved impervious to most diseases. As for pregnancy… “Aren’t you on the pill?” Wasn’t every woman nowadays taking it? The hormones in it worked on shifter females. They just needed a much stronger dose.

She shook her head, sending her hair fluttering. “No, I am not. I don’t like the way it makes me hairy.”

“But… We… That is…” He couldn’t say it aloud, let alone contemplate it.

“Had sex. I know. And now I could be pregnant because someone didn’t pull out.”

He stabbed at his chest. “You’re blaming me? You could have told me you weren’t taking anything.”

“I might have except I was kind of lost in the moment, which, again, is totally your fault. And, besides, what guy doesn’t use one until he knows for sure?”

A guy who was also lost in the moment. “It was just one time.”

“One time? One time could mean twins in there.” Her turn to poke herself in the belly. “I know we’ve marked each other, but that’s a bit quick, kitten.”

“Don’t call me kitten.”

“Why? Does it make you think of your mommy?”

No. Cyn definitely didn’t invoke any maternal thoughts, but she sure did ignite carnal ones.

A woman indicating she might be with his child should have sent him fleeing. Running for the swamps to hide.

Not this kitty.

This kitty found himself stalking toward her, drawn despite himself.

As for Cyn? She didn’t flee. On the contrary, she also moved, and neither stopped until they were pressed against each other. Since he wore only boxers, nothing could stop the sizzle that arced between their bodies. Their gazes caught.

“I think we can both agree there is something happening between us,” she stated.

He nodded in agreement.

“I’m not sure where it’s going, but for the moment, I’m going to stop fighting it. Are you?”

“Is that wise?”

She smiled. “Are you seriously asking the crazy girl? No, it might not be wise, but I’ll be honest and say I’ve never experienced anything like being with you.”

“Me either.”

“So why don’t we agree for the moment to just enjoy ourselves, find Aria, and then see how things pan out? Maybe go out a few times, hang out.”

“Are you talking about dating?”

“Which sounds kind of backwards, given we’ve munched on each other’s skin and shared a bedroom, but yeah, we should
date
.” She winked as she sashayed to the bathroom, her round buttocks tempting.

He couldn’t help but stare, and kept staring long after she’d left his side. He visibly startled when she stuck her head out the door and sighed.

“In case you’re that oblivious, that was an invitation to get your ass in here. We could both use a shower. I promise I’m very dirty.”

He wasn’t oblivious, just overwhelmed, but not so much that he didn’t get his ass in that bathroom. It was a good thing they had lots of hot water because she got plenty dirty before she got clean.

Just in time, too, as insanity came to plague them again.