The Billionaire Jaguar's Curvy Journalist: BBW Panther Shifter Paranormal Romance (7 page)

She stopped thinking. All she could do was feel. Feel the passion in Paul’s kiss and the strong hands roaming over her body.

It didn’t matter that he was cold and wet. It didn’t matter that he was a hero, or a billionaire. All that mattered was the two of them, man and woman, tangled in one another’s arms.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, when they broke the kiss.

“I’m a mess,” she protested.

“I’m no better—” He pushed his soaking hair back from his face. “Do you—your shower?”

“Shower,” she gasped. “Yes.”

They stumbled to the bathroom together, Abby pulling her blouse over her head, Paul fumbling with his pants. Everything was wet and cold and miserable, and none of it mattered. His hands were warm and sure on her body.

Her heart was thumping, and she could feel an intense, pounding ache in her clit. She wanted. God, she wanted.

“Shower,” he panted. “Can you—”

She started the water one-handed, turned up the heat to what she thought wouldn’t be too much of a shock. Paul had already kicked off his pants. She could see his dark, thick erection, rising from his body. He had some fantastic abs, too.
Damn.

“You’re amazing,” he said. “So beautiful.” He reached for her skirt, taking the waistband in his fingers and pulling her close. He kissed her again, warm and wet.

Her skin was so damp and cold she was shaky. But Paul held her steady. His hands were so strong. She wanted to get lost in him, in his touch.

She didn’t feel nervous or uncomfortable with him, even though it was their first time together. Paul didn’t give her the chance. He was too happy to be with her, too eager. He guided her into the shower and the warm water began caressing her body. His hands, though, were a better caress, his hands strong but gentle.

He stepped into the water after her—thank goodness she’d put that big showerhead in when she moved in—and kissed her. The grime was pouring off his body now. She looked at his muscles, not bulging like a bodybuilder, but not small, that was for sure.

He pulled her close, and then lifted her up, to her shock, like she was little more than a feather. He let her open her legs, then braced her back on the shower stall.

“Is this all right?” he asked.

All she could do was nod. Damn right it was all right. It was the best thing that had happened to her in years. She felt just right. Perfect, like he said.

And it was perfect as he slid inside her, hard and urgent. He only needed one strong hand to hold her up, and he used the other to caress her breasts, teasing first one nipple, then the other with his fingertips.

She was shaking, and her heart was pounding. She could feel the throbbing all through her body, but it was strongest in her swollen clit. A thousand tiny raindrops hit her as Paul thrust into her, and she felt like she was getting wetter and more sensitized every second. It felt like electricity was coursing through every inch of her body, and there was no way to control it. Something bigger than her had taken control of her, had maybe taken control of them both.

She’d never been with a man like him. He was so strong, so confident. So damn good at what he was doing.

He stopped teasing her breasts and shifted his hand to her clit instead, and she bit back a cry. His touch triggered a rocket fire inside her, and her hips bucked against Paul.

She couldn’t stop herself from moving, control herself at all.

All she could do was lose herself to Paul’s touch.

For his part, Paul didn’t seem like he was in much more control. His eyes were pinned to her, like he couldn’t look away. His mouth moved, but no words were coming out.

But through it all, his hands, his touch, stayed steady. The little circles he was rubbing on her oversensitized clit grew harder, steadier, and Abby bit back a scream.

The heat was building inside her, higher and higher, her heart beating faster and faster.

She closed her eyes; keeping them open was too much, too overwhelming. Even so, she could hardly hang on. She tipped her head back, letting the water splash over her face.

Orgasm took her, pushed her over the edge, her body moving without any control, her hips shaking.

She felt him coming too, going over the edge, and he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her madly again and again.

10

Abby sighed again, and Paul held her closer. What the hell had he just done?

They were both still in the spray, warm, pressed together, skin on skin. He kissed the side of her cheek.

“I’m—I’m on the pill,” she blurted out, and then burst out laughing. “Oh, God.” She put her hand over her face. “I—that’s romantic, huh?”

“No, it’s—I’m tested, I—we’re fine.” He shook his head. “I—I can’t quite believe this just happened, honestly.”

“Me...me neither.”

He pulled her into his arms, whispering into her ear. “I’m glad, though.”

She reached over and turned the shower off. “Are we clean now? Close...close enough to clean?”

“I think so,” he said, and he was laughing too. What a day. “I still want to take you to dinner.”

“I guess I’ll say yes,” she said, and they both started laughing again.

He looked around her bathroom. It looked like her towels were big and fluffy. He grabbed the biggest, fluffiest one he could find and wrapped it around Abby. “There,” he said. “That’s better. I mean, we hopped into the shower to warm up.”

“I got plenty warm,” she said. “I don’t know about you....”

“Well, let’s keep you that way.” He found a towel for himself and dried off.

“I have a washer and drier right here,” she said. “I can get your clothes clean.”

“That’d...that’d be great,” he said.

“I don’t think I have any clothes that’ll fit you. Maybe a bathrobe? Though I’m not sure I have one of those that’ll fit you either….”

He shrugged. “I’m all right in a towel, if you don’t mind.”

She looked him up and down. “Um...yeah. I don’t think I mind.”

He kissed her cheek. He wanted to put his hands all over her all over again, but she was going to get cold, and he really needed dry clothes at some point. “Go ahead,” he said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said. “I...I think I’ll just put it all in one load, that’ll be faster. You’re not really supposed to but—”

“No,” he said. “I just want them dry. I don’t think anything will shrink. And if it does...I’m not sure I care.”

“I’ll check the labels. Anything that says dry clean only I’ll just put on delicate.”

“I owe you,” he said.

“Oh, you’ll get to pay me back,” she said. “I have a few questions for you. Actually, I have a lot of questions.”

He’d been waiting for that shoe to drop. She was beautiful and sexy and intelligent...and a reporter. Of course she was going to have questions. Anyone would. He just hoped she wouldn’t be taking too many mental notes. He settled down on her couch and looked around her living room. She had framed photographs on the wall; he guessed they were hers, as they looked very similar to the ones he’d seen in the cafe. Most of the living room was black and white—white walls, black couch—but there were touches of color, and personality, everywhere, from the red-and-gold Persian rug to the soft pillows on the couch.

The shades were pulled, which was a relief. He hadn’t even thought about it as they stumbled into the apartment. “How long have you been here?” he called.

“In town? Since college, I had my internship here. But this apartment, about six months. I was on the waitlist when they opened up—it’s a converted woolen mill, if you can believe it.”

“That makes sense.” It explained the high ceilings in such an old building.

“Yeah, I don’t really feel like I’ve moved in yet. I’ve got some of my stuff here, but—” She emerged, wearing a t-shirt and jeans and carrying a fluffy blue bathrobe. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really feel like home yet.”

“You got dressed,” he said. He felt disappointed.

“Sorry,” she said, handing him the bathrobe. “I thought I should get us something to eat. Cooking naked’s kind of dangerous.”

“What time is it?” He wasn’t hungry. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

“It’s almost seven, and I don’t think I’ve got anything I can whip up quick,” she said.

He got up and wrapped the bathrobe around himself. It didn’t fit quite right, but it kept him covered, and it was nice and soft. “Well, don’t do it on my account. I’d be happy with frozen pizza.”

“I don’t think I even have that,” she said. She opened the freezer door and stood there, her hand on her hip. He wanted to walk up behind her and pull her clothes off all over again. “I’m going to have to do pasta with...canned sauce? I think I have some canned sauce? I normally do grocery shopping tonight, but I didn’t exactly have the chance.”

Thunder boomed again outside the window; the storm must have been circling back in.

“Does anywhere here deliver?”

“There’s a pizza place,” she said. “But they charge for delivery.”

“I can handle that,” he said. “It’s not as nice as dinner out, but if you’re hungry, I don’t mind staying in with you.” He patted the couch cushion. “And I’d rather spend time with you than watch you cook.”

She looked back and forth between him and the freezer.

“I’ll still take you to dinner—”

“I don’t care about that,” she said. “I don’t want you to think—”

“I think you’re hungry and I think I want to talk to you. Come on, let’s just get some pizza.”

“All right,” she said, opening up a kitchen drawer and pulling out a menu. “What do you like for toppings?”

“I’m not that fussy,” he said. “Some kind of meat, if you don’t mind.”

“Pepperoni?”

“That sounds great.”

“Wait—are you like a cat? Do you have to eat meat?”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried not eating meat, and I don’t really know many other shifters. Mom always ate meat.”

“Just pepperoni, or do you want something else?”

“Surprise me,” he said.

“You don’t have any allergies? Or anything you don’t like?”

“I’d tell you,” he said. “Do you have—you must have more towels. Could I dry my hair off?”

“Of course,” she said.

He could hear her ordering as he went back into the bathroom. He looked ridiculous in the fluffy blue towel, and his hair was flopping in his face. He toweled it off and did as much work as he could with his fingers to get it in order. Bad enough he looked like a blueberry marshmallow, at least his hair could be in order.

“Twenty minutes,” she said, when he emerged. She was sitting on her couch, just where he’d patted for her to sit. “So I’ve got some time, if you don’t mind more questions.”

“No,” he said. “I’d like to be honest with you.” He hadn’t had a chance to be honest with a woman in years, and last time Karen hadn’t been so kind or accepting.

“So you eat, just, normal human food?”

“Yes,” he said. “I can eat when I’m a cat, but I don’t, normally. It’s a different feeling, being the cat. You want...well, basically what cats eat, but you’re still human, so it’s not really that appealing.”

“Yeah, that sounds—” She frowned. “That sounds kind of gross.”

“It’s a lot better to eat as a human,” he conceded. He sat next to her and held out his arm. “Can I—”

She shifted her weight and snuggled in close to him.

Perfect.

“What else would you like to know?”

“I...there’s so much,” she said. “Does it hurt, when you change?”

“No,” he said. “It feels...it feels just as natural as stretching. Like you’re shifting your body, but in a good way, in a normal way. The first time, I didn’t even realize that was what I was doing.”

“Were—were you alone?”

“Ah, no,” he said. “But...but my mother was there. She helped me through it.”

“But your dad didn’t—”

He didn’t want to talk about this now. But...he’d already opened the door, hadn’t he? And if he was going to be honest with her, he might as well start. There were...a lot of secrets. “He found out a little later,” he said. “It’s not easy to hide when you’re getting used to shifting.” He pulled her closer. “Try not stretching, especially when you’re twelve years old.”

“That...sounds impossible.”

“He found out and he flipped out,” he said. “Accused Mom of all kinds of things, until she told him the truth, that she could shift too.” Abby was warm. That was nice. It was easier to talk about this than he’d thought it was going to be.

Being near her made it easier.

“And he—he was angry?”

“He was beyond angry,” Paul said. “I heard the shouting through the walls. My little brother—he was younger. He slept through most of it, though I remember he woke up and I told him he was having a nightmare.” He shook his head. “And I just remember not caring about Mom or Dad or any of it, just that he believed me. Just that he’d go back to sleep and not know about all of this happening.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And then, a couple days after that, Mom told me we had to go, and we left.”

“Just you and your mom?”

He nodded. He’d tried to ask Mom why they’d left Aaron behind but she’d never really given him an answer. “She didn’t think Aaron could shift, but—” He shook his head. “It never felt right to me, leaving him behind.”

“She probably had a good reason.”

“We didn’t have much,” he said. “We moved to the country and she waited tables for a while, worked her way up to manager at a Friendly’s. I went to college on scholarship.”

“You said your mom was your first investor,” she said. “Did she—”

“I was getting my MBA when plane crashed...the insurance settlement was my first investment. I don’t like to tell the story like that. She...she would’ve given me her last dime to get me started, if she could have. So—”

“No,” she said. “I understand. That’s...that’s kind of nice. It sounds like what she would have wanted.”

“I hope so,” he said. “I think she would’ve wanted me to find Aaron too, and I still haven’t figured out how to do that. What if he—”
What if he rejects me too?

She turned around in his arms and held him tight. “He’d love you,” she said. “I know it.”

“I—I hope you’re right,” he said. “It’s been years and sometimes I just want to call him. Hear his voice.”