Her gaze rose further up his body, only this time she realized she’d been seen, forgetting that she wasn’t hidden from his perusal any more than he was from hers. He was grinning at her, appearing perfectly smug that he’d caught her appraising him so thoroughly. Her body’s heat rose again.
She slid the door open and hurried outside, shutting the door behind her to keep the biting insects out. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, crossing the deck to the shower so that she wouldn’t have to whisper so loud.
Even though Kat and Connor were probably asleep or busy making love, and the jungle was so noisy, she still feared her voice would carry and her brother might hear.
She glanced around, realizing that Wade must have been a jaguar when he arrived because a pile of his clothes wasn’t on the deck anywhere.
“I had to see you,” he said, his voice as hushed as hers.
“Connor will kill you if he finds you here naked on my deck. Did you locate the smugglers?”
“Yes and no.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“Guard duty. Come here,” he said, his blue-green eyes dark with desire as he reached his hand out to her.
His mouth curved up as he noted the hesitation in her expression, but the gleam in his eye said he wasn’t going to be thwarted, not when he had to know how much she wanted to be with him.
She didn’t know exactly what he had in mind. Surely, he didn’t want her to join him in the shower. She didn’t take another step in his direction. But like a jaguar that moved without warning, he snagged her hand and pulled her into the cool, soft spray and his hard, hot embrace. She was still wearing her nightie! That was now wet and plastered to her body, along with him.
Her fingers curled through his hair as his hands molded to her bottom, pulling her tight against him, and she instantly felt the stirring of his cock. They were kissing, the water sluicing down their faces and bodies, and she’d never felt more sexy or alive.
She thought about his brother’s comment at the club that she and Wade could use the brothers’ Houston hotel room if they needed to, and she wanted to move this inside—to the big king-size bed overlooking the living room.
“I want you,” she said, against his mouth, knowing he wanted her just as badly. Jaguar shifters didn’t mate for life. She could do this and still date others, but she had to let him know how she felt.
He stopped kissing her, looked down at her as if he was judging her sincerity, and pulled away from her a little. It was okay if he didn’t want her tonight, she told herself. But she was already afraid he’d leave her alone, and she knew she’d hate it if he left. Yet she had to be honest with him.
He cast her a slow, predatory smile. “Whatever you want, Maya.” He said the words with tenderness, though she suspected he hoped to change her mind.
“I want you,” she repeated, running her hand down his slick naked back, all muscles and silky skin, “in bed with me. Nothing permanent.”
He leaned over her and turned off the water, then looked at her nightie plastered to her skin and smiled. “You’re beautiful.” He tugged off the sopping wet garment and laid it over the table, then wrapped her in one of the towels stacked there. Naked, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the door.
She didn’t know why she was feeling so guilty that she was setting limits with Wade. Maybe because he seemed to want exclusivity, and she wasn’t ready for it. Or maybe because deep down she was afraid he might be the one for her, and he would be turned off by her reluctance to commit to him—even for the short term. Or that she would lose her heart to him, and he, in turn, wouldn’t be able to commit to her.
As they entered the cottage, the cold air blasted them so that their skin instantly wore goose bumps. Maya shivered and reminded herself that Wade had initially wanted to date Kat. So if he could become interested in Maya just as quickly, why not someone else, too?
“You’re thinking too much, Maya,” he said, carrying her up the steps to the bedroom before he took her into the adjoining bathroom. He set her down on the cool tile floor so she could towel-dry her hair while he snagged another towel and dried himself. He was watching her the whole time, as if he could read all the thoughts running through her mind.
She smiled then, took his hand in hers, and pulled him out of the bathroom and toward the bed. “When I first saw this bed,” she said, casting a look over her shoulder at him and capturing his gaze, “I thought of you in it with me.”
The duvet was already tossed aside from where she’d been sleeping before she heard Wade taking a shower. She’d thought that a mischievous monkey might have turned the faucet on.
No way had she envisioned that she’d find a naked man washing up on the wood deck—a hunk of a jaguar shifter whom she’d already fantasized about showering with there.
She released his hand and crawled into bed, while he continued to dry himself slowly, working on his hair first and showing off his exquisitely tanned body, every muscle group toned, his cock stretching out to her.
After he’d finished drying himself, he tossed the towel on the tile floor and stalked toward the bed. He climbed onto the mattress as she scooted over to allow him room. Pulling the netting around the bed shut, he half covered her body with his, like a big primal cat, as he began kissing her all over again.
The heat and sounds of the jungle surrounded their private, glassed-in cottage hideaway. The primitive, feral side of their nature thrummed in her blood as she cupped his head and kissed his mouth with desperate need and desire.
His hand slid over one breast, cupping, stroking, his thumb circling the nipple, and her breasts ached and swelled with his touch. His legs straddled one of hers, his knees spread wide as his thickening cock pressed against her hip, sliding, stroking, adding his musky male scent to her body, claiming her.
She knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
No elephants trumpeted here like they did at the shifter club, and no music played as a backdrop to their heated moves this time. The only sounds were the tropical birds twittering, howler monkeys calling out to one another, and two shifters’ hearts beating hard as one. Yet she felt the same heat and passion and craving between them as she’d experienced on the dance floor when he held her tight in his embrace. Clothing was all that had separated them then. Not now.
She ran her nails lightly down his muscled back like a cat in ecstasy as a low growl rumbled deep in his throat. She loved the primal sound, the connection with their feral side, and arched against his body, offering her own.
He lowered his face to lick her nipple, his hand sliding down her flat belly and making her tense with anticipation when his fingers combed through the golden curls nested between her legs and touched the knotted part of her that was sensitive and receptive. She couldn’t help bending to meet the onslaught.
He looked up at her, his eyes heated, predatory, a jaguar’s blue-green gaze like a shadowy jungle filled with dark secrets. She could smell his wild, musky male scent driven by ravenous desire.
She scraped her fingernails lower down his back to his buttocks.
He gave a raspy groan and slowly, deliberately ground his rigid cock against her thigh. She’d never felt this needy, craving to have his wicked flesh embedded deep inside her, moving in and out, taking her to a world of feral indulgence.
He slid a finger between her feminine folds, deep. “So wet,” he whispered, licking her nipple. “So hot.”