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All the tension left her body and her face split into the most incredible smile he’d ever seen. “Thank you.”

One dark eyebrow lifted as he amended, “Too hot.”

Her mouth quirked. “Bastard.”

He smiled and eased her closer. Her warm, soft skin beneath his palms, her gentle weight. She felt like heaven in his arms. And the scent of her mixed with the scent of purple water lily was acting like a drug on his control. Xavier’s skin hummed with awareness, and in that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to pull her away from the crowd, ease her into the shadows where he’d once stood looking for her, and remove her pretty dress with his teeth.

Blood surged into his cock, making him hard.

No. Fuck, no. His mind was playing tricks. He couldn’t have her. Not tonight. Not any night. But then again, neither could Hiss. He couldn’t allow that either. No matter how nice and respectful the male was, no one else was going to touch her. He wouldn’t allow it. Neither would his puma. A growl formed in his throat. The water lily’s scent was capturing him, surely. What else could be the reason for these possessive thoughts?

“Come with me,” he ordered, taking her by the hand and leading her off the dance floor.

“Talk about déjà vu,” she said dryly. “Where are you going, Xavier? Hiss is coming back.”

Ignoring her question, Xavier eased her into the shadows of the produce stand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hiss, drinks in hand, searching the dance floor.

She isn’t yours. Not now. Never ever.

Curling her around him, pressing her back to the faded-white walls of the stand, Xavier coiled over her and inhaled deeply.

Amalie stared up at him, her breathing labored. “What’s wrong with you?”

Wrong? He nearly laughed. Shit, he was out of his mind. Drugged. Had to be. “I want to leave.”

Irritation flashed in her green eyes and she made a move to get past him. “Then go.”

But he placed a hand on either side of her and shook his head. “I want you to come with me.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You got your touch,” he whispered. “Your flirting. Your date.”

“It’s not enough. It’s nothing. I want more.”

A snarl escaped his throat and he leaned in close to her face, almost until they were nose to nose. “That Hunter touches you again and I’ll hurt him.”

Amalie growled at him and tried to back up, but there was nothing but wall. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“From what? From Hiss? He’s a good male.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Then from what? Being held? Kissed? Those are normal things, Xavier.”

His puma scratched to break free, and he nuzzled her nose with his own. “Dammit, Amalie.”

“Come on, Xavier. Don’t do this to me,” she uttered, her tone pained. “Don’t hold me, block me. It’s not fair. Especially coming from you. Do you really expect me to go through life alone? Without being kissed? Staying a virgin—”

She never finished her thought. The word—no, the image—drove Xavier and his puma over the fucking edge. With a snarl of possession, he slid his thigh between her legs and covered her mouth with his own, kissing her long and hard and deep.

Oh, fuck, the taste.

Xavier’s mind exploded into tiny fragments of desire. The taste of her was beyond what he’d ever imagined. Sweet and hot and liquid, and hungry. Fuck, so hungry. And he wanted to consume her. Fill his body with hers.

Her arms went around his neck and she moaned into his mouth. The sound went straight to his dick, and he nipped at her, suckled her lower lip, then kissed her passionately once again. Oh Christ, this was it. She was perfect. His perfect. The way she moved, touched him, molded to him—wanted him. He’d never be able to go back from here. He’d felt her and tasted her now. Her heat and her desire belonged to him. How could he ever let another soul get close to her again?

And then her hands moved down to his shoulders and his back, her nails digging into his skin as her teeth bit at his tongue, and he lost all control. All that remained in the darkness, in the shadows, were two desperate, ravenous puma shifters. Groaning her name, Xavier crushed her against him, ravaged her mouth, pressed his thigh up harder against her sex, feeling the wet heat of her pussy. He wanted inside her, belonged inside her. He wanted to take her—lift up her dress, rip off her panties and fuck her right there. He didn’t care who saw them. In fact, in that moment, he wanted spectators. Wanted every last Pantera male to know who Amalie belonged to.

The thought killed him. Stopped him.

As did the look in her drowsy, sex-hazed eyes when he eased back from her.

“Shit,” he whispered so close to her mouth their breath co-mingled.

She swallowed, her eyes trying to focus. “Xavier.”

His name on her lips had Xavier’s cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. His eyes cut left, past her ear. Hiss was still searching, irritation and concern playing about his features. “I’m so sorry, Amalie.”

“Don’t say that,” she warned.

“Oh, fuck, this was a mistake.”

“Or that.”

He wanted to let her go, release her, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Though Hiss hadn’t seen them yet, he was drawing closer to where they hid. A low, terrifying growl erupted from Xavier’s throat, and he knew that if the Hunter male got within a foot of Amalie right now, he might actually attack, maybe even kill him. He was that jacked up—that proprietary. His puma snarled and ripped at his insides, and to save himself, and possibly the Hunter male as well, he allowed it to break free.

He stumbled back, away from Amalie, and shifted into his cat.

“Xavier,” she said, her voice threaded with heat.

He looked at her for one brief moment, saw her anger and hurt, and enduring lust, and let his puma snarl and hiss before turning and stalking away. From the party, the food, the music, the sexually-charged atmosphere.

And from the female he could never taste again—no matter how desperately he wanted her.

CHAPTER SIX

Furious and turned-on so badly she just wanted to go to her room and find comfort in her own hand, Mal burst into the house. Poor Hiss. He deserved an amazing female. Not some dope with a relentless crush. The Hunter male was gorgeous and honorable, and more than a few female eyes had covetously followed him around the fete tonight. He could’ve stayed—should’ve stayed—when she’d told him she wanted to go home. But he’d insisted on escorting her.

While Xavier had left her alone, panting, confused and pissed off.

Xavier.

That goddamn male had ruined her. Truly. First when she had fallen in both lust and love for him on that birthday in the bayou, and now tonight, when he’d given her a moment of that fantasy, then ripped it away. No, not just ripped it away, but ripped it into shreds.

As she slammed the door and started down the hall, the memory of his hands on her, his mouth on her, mingled with his apologies and regrets. Fuck him, she didn’t want it—neither one. Why couldn’t he get that? She wasn’t asking for a future or a promise or a mating. All she wanted was him.

For him to be her first.

The sound of running water curbed her emotional and frustrated thoughts momentarily, and instead of heading for her room, she turned down the hall toward the door that led to the outside shower. She knew who was out there, in there. With every step, every shaky breath, her hand curling around the door handle, she warned herself to stop and walk away. Go into your room, take care of yourself and go to sleep.