L06 Leopard's Prey

by Christine Feehan

  She ran one hand through his thick hair, stepping so close to him he could smell their combined scents on her. His marks were all over her body. More leopard than man at times when they made love, he could be rough. He leaned forward and kissed a dark smudge just on the inside of her thigh. She trembled. He stroked his tongue over the bruise. His hand moved higher and encountered heat.

  That wild urgency settled inside of him. “You’re wet for me.”

  “I’m always wet for you. I get wet just lookin’ at you,” she admitted. “It’s hell on my panties.”

  “Don’ wear the damn things,” he suggested, and leaned forward to press his mouth into her center. He loved the taste of her, all that wild lavender honey. He caught her hips with both hands and dragged her to him, his tongue stabbing deep, seeking more honey, drawing it out and devouring her for his early morning pleasure.

  She steadied herself by placing her hands on his shoulders, her soft little cries of pleasure escaping in spite of her desire to stay quiet. Along with all the other things he loved about her, those soft sounds were music to him. She threw her head back as he indulged himself. His tongue teased and danced and he suckled at her little clit, until her legs trembled and her soft cries grew more demanding. She actually fisted his hair to pull his head back.

  He grinned at her. “Is there somethin’ you wanted, chere?”

  “You, Remy Boudreaux,” she answered back, panting a little. Placing one hand on his chest, she pushed him back until he allowed himself to sprawl across the bed. “Right now. Right here.”

  “Has anyone ever told you, you’re insatiable?”

  “You started this,” she pointed out, straddling his hips. “I just intend to finish it.”

  She settled over his heavy erection slowly, using a sliding corkscrew motion that forced the air to rush from his lungs and every nerve ending in his body to come alive. Little electric sparks leapt through his blood stream and rushed to a single point in his groin.

  Bijou looked exotic and beautiful with her cat’s eyes, the wealth of dark hair falling like a silken cape to caress her satin skin. Every move she made drew his attention to her full breasts, rising and falling, swaying with the rhythm as she rode him. She made those little sounds, that sexy music he couldn’t wait to hear, as her muscles gripped and squeezed every time she made the descent over his rigid cock.

  He reached up and cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing at the hard little peaks. As her body rose over his and fell, and the little small circles she made with her hips drove him mad while her muscles gripped with the strength of a fist, he used his fingers to tug and pull, to do some rolling of his own. Her gaze jumped to his, and then she threw back her head, grinding down harder, but still keeping that excruciating, slow pace. A flood of lavender honey bathed him in slick heat.

  He transferred his hands to her hips. That slow, easy glide was designed to drive him insane and it was working.

  “What’s wrong, leopard boy?” she taunted. “Too much for you? Can’t take it?”

  “You’re goin’ to get yourself into trouble,” he cautioned, his fingers digging deeper into her hips. If she did one more slow spiral, those tight muscles dragging over him with such hot friction, he might just lose his mind for real.

  “I think I’ve proven I can take whatever you dish out,” she replied, rising over him and starting another slow spin down.

  “I want you to remember that the next time we have a lot of time and a location where no one can hear you when I make you beg,” he warned, gritting his teeth as the muscles moved as if alive, a velvet fist so hot and tight strangling him in a fierce grip.

  She rose again, a small, teasing smile on her face. He waited until she began that slow spiral down and he moved his finger into her, finding her sweet spot and making those same slow teasing circles before tugging and teasing.

  Bijou cried out softly and rewarded him with a fresh flood of her hot honey, coating both his cock and fingers. He licked that lavender cream from his fingers and then when she started down again, he thrust upward hard while he dragged her down over him. Her cry was louder as he swelled more, forcing her body to accept him.

  He rolled fast with her and came up on his knees, pushing her legs up and back over her shoulders so he could thrust as deep as possible. Sometimes he wanted to crawl inside of her, and share her skin and bones. He needed those soft little cries building to a crescendo. He needed her body gripping his in a stranglehold. He had to know she needed him the same way.

  Bijou gave him everything he demanded of her, generously, unafraid, and made few demands of her own. She might have started out inexperienced, but she made up for it with her determination to please him—to give herself to him in any way he needed or demanded. He closed his eyes and let the rush just take him, hurtling through him like rockets going off.

  Her body shuddered and rippled around his as he took her with him. She lay quiet beneath him, her breath ragged, her eyes a little glazed and her hair a wild mass of silk across the bed. Remy collapsed over her, blanketing her completely, pressing his body into hers, as if that could stamp him onto her skin.

  Her arms went around his neck, hands sliding over his shoulders to his back. She held him tightly to her. He felt every heartbeat as his own, every rise and fall of her breasts as she took in air and let it out. He felt her in his mind, bathing every dark memory with light.

  Remy kissed her several times before pulling back, afraid of his weight hurting her. Reluctantly, he slipped out of her. Still, he kept her pinned, one thigh over hers, looking down into her eyes. He framed her face with both hands. “Do you have any idea how I feel about you?”

  “Maybe. A little. You don’ talk much about it,” Bijou pointed out.

  “I’ve never told a woman I love her. Never. Not once. But you, Blue.” He shook his head.

  “You don’ have to . . .”

  He laid a finger across her lip, that amazing, fantasy lower lip he couldn’t resist. “Let me say this to you. I need to. Even if it’s just this once. You deserve to know.”

  Bijou nodded, her tongue curling around his finger and drawing it into the warmth of her mouth. His cock jerked in response.

  “Everything you do is so fuckin’ sensual, Blue. Everything. I tried to make this about our leopards. And then about sex. But I ran out of places to hide. I had no idea what love was. I’d never felt it before you came along. I needed time to sort it all out. I didn’t honestly think it would happen for me. You came along, and you were just too damn good to be true. I had no idea the emotion would be like this. All encompassing. So intense. I feel a little like a deer caught in the headlights.”

  He used his finger to tease her mouth before bending his head to hers and kissing her. “What I’m tryin’ to say in my own clumsy way is, I’m very much in love with you.”

  Bijou’s long, feathery lashes swept down and up several times. For a moment he thought tears swam in her eyes, but after she’d blinked a few times, her eyes were clear, sparkling and looking at him with everything he could have wanted.

  “Say it. Tell me,” he urged.

  “I don’ have near the confidence in myself you think I do. When I’m singing, Remy, that’s someone else. When I’m me, I have no real idea of even how to be in a relationship, let alone how to love someone properly. You’re taking a big risk.”

  He smoothed back her hair. “I told you right from the start to trust me. I’ll get you through it. We’ll find our own way, Blue. But you’d better tell me before I do something rash.”

  She laughed softly. “You’re so crazy.” She traced the smile on his face. “Of course I love you. I came back to New Orleans just for you. It’s always been you.”

  Satisfaction went deep. He kissed her again. “Come on, honey, I can smell coffee and breakfast.” He slipped off the bed and pulled her up beside him.

  They took a long slow shower, Bijou washing him carefully and thoroughly, which required another, much quicker assault on he
r body. Remy felt relaxed and ready for work by the time they went down to breakfast. He wasn’t in the least surprised to see Gage waiting for him, looking as grim and upset as Remy had been before Bijou had worked her miracle on him.

  “You need a woman, Gage,” he greeted and poured himself a cup of Saria’s excellent coffee. “You spend too much time with murder these days.” He was only half teasing. Gage did look older. He’d always been a bit of a prankster, but there was little left of the boy. He didn’t care to see his brother take the same path he had, but clearly, it was too late.

  “We all need the right woman,” Gage said. He smiled at Bijou. “Good mornin’. How long do I have to wait to have you as my sister? It will boost my status with the voters as well as my men.”

  Bijou laughed. “Glad I can be of some help to you.” She took the coffee he offered and sank into a chair, clearly savoring the aroma of the fresh-baked beignets. “I know this morning must be awful for you, Gage. I’m so sorry.”

  “Have you heard anything more?” Remy asked. “Have the Rousseau brothers been located?”

  “Not so far, but Judge Thomasson was found this morning with a self-inflicted bullet hole in his head.”

  Remy’s head came up sharply. “Are you certain it was suicide?”

  Gage nodded. “He left a note, said he couldn’t stop the voices whisperin’ in his head, telling him to kill himself. He knew he was possessed. He had to free the Rousseau brothers, because he knew if he didn’t they would send their demons to him to rob him of his soul. They wanted the charges dropped, which he couldn’t do, so they sent their demons anyway.”

  “Voodoo,” Remy said softly. “He was a believer.”

  “Go into the dinin’ room and eat,” Saria said. “Both of you. And you too, Bijou.”

  Remy followed Gage into the dining room and sat down at the ornate dining table. Of course Saria had made a big breakfast for them. She always made certain the men in her house had food, a leftover habit from taking care of her father, or maybe it was more likely she enjoyed cooking and feeding her family.

  “Yes, he had faith, but he should have gone to Eulalie and to us. We found a recorder in his vents, motion-activated. Voices whisperin’ to him to kill himself,” Gage said. “The Rousseau brothers took out a little insurance to make certain their legend grew in the eyes of the voodoo community.” He sat across from Remy and reached immediately for the trout.

  “I would say that means they’re still around. We have to figure out where they are before they get out of town and become someone else’s nightmare,” Remy suggested. He scooped up trout and added poached eggs and hollandaise sauce from the silver warmers set in the middle of the table.

  “Fresh-squeezed orange juice,” Saria announced, putting two wineglasses filled with the juice in front of her brothers. “Drink it. Neither one of you is gettin’ any sleep, and if you’re going to catch all the criminals lurking around the bayou, you’d better be in shape.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gage said, and dutifully downed the orange juice in one long gulp. “Where’s our esteemed leader?”

  Saria pressed her lips together and looked away.

  “Saria?” Remy dropped his voice to that one note no one ever disobeyed.

  She took a deep breath and poured herself a glass of orange juice, clearly stalling. “When Gage called this mornin’ and said the Rousseau brothers were gone, he went into the swamp in the hope of tracking them,” she admitted, carefully not looking at either brother.

  “And he didn’t think it was necessary for him to have backup?” Remy demanded, his fork halting inches from his mouth.

  “Of course he had backup. He said forensics hasn’t come out yet with the theory of animal fur and leopard paw prints, so if they were careful, they might be able to have somethin’ for you within an hour or so.”

  Remy lifted an eyebrow. “Lojos and Mahieu, I presume?”

  Saria nodded. “He said you and Gage were workin’ on a couple of hours of sleep and the lair needed to help out. He called the others and told them to be watchful, but not to actively hunt.”

  “And Dash. What is he doin’?” Remy asked shrewdly. “Bijou, don’ just drink coffee. Eat breakfast,” he added, and scooped trout and eggs onto a warm plate.

  Bijou, curled up on her chair sipping at her coffee, looked startled. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Be hungry,” he said. “Saria? What the hell does Drake have Dash doin’?”

  “He’s on guard duty,” she said. “Bijou, you have bites all over your neck.”

  Remy couldn’t stop his gaze from finding Bijou, even when he knew his sister was trying to throw him off track. A faint blush stole up her cheeks. She looked thoroughly loved. Taken. Claimed. Her hair tumbled down her back in a blue-black cloud, held loosely by a single clip at the nape of her neck. She wore soft blue jeans riding low on her hips and a cotton top of pale pink that wasn’t quite pink but probably had some girlie name like mauve that complemented her skin perfectly. Both hands cupped her coffee mug, holding it in front of her like a shield.

  “Blue, we need to put a ring on that finger soon.” Remy made it a statement. A blue stone. Sapphire or blue diamond. He had plenty of money saved. He could spend it on a suitable ring for her.

  Her blush deepened. “I thought the subject was what your brother was doin’, not us.”

  He grinned at her and held out a fork. “Just in case you’re pregnant and eatin’ for two. And just so you know, you’re always on my mind.”

  She took the proffered fork, more, he was certain, to get the attention off of her, than to eat much. Gage didn’t help by grinning from ear to ear like a baboon. Even Saria smirked a little behind her hand.

  “Keep it up, Gage,” Bijou hissed between her teeth. “You’re close enough that I could get you with this fork.”

  “I’m not laughin’ at you, Bijou. It’s just that my brother has it so bad. He’s like a crazy man right now, and it’s just really fun for me. Not to mention, when he’s bossin’ you, he forgets all about bossin’ the rest of us.”

  Remy chose dignity. It was the only course of action when his brother might be stating a fact. He scooped up a couple of couche-couche, a Cajun-style fried cornmeal mush that Saria always made to his liking, and ignored Gage altogether.

  “So where exactly is Dash at the present time?” Remy asked his sister after downing more trout. “Is he watching over you while Drake is gone?”

  “Sort of,” Saria sounded a bit mischievous.

  Remy sat up very straight. “Did Drake leave him behind to guard me?”

  Saria nodded, the amusement fading from her dark eyes. “He’s worried the Rousseau brothers will come after you and Gage, and, Remy, before you explode, it makes sense. You and Gage are relentless when you’re trackin’ someone. Everyone knows that. You’re the ones who ruined things for them. They think they’re unbelievably clever, and they believed they were invincible, that no one would dare testify against them. The two of you brought them down and they aren’t the type to go quietly into the night.”

  Bijou made a small sound of distress and leaned toward him. “I told you.”

  Remy reached out and took her hand, bringing it under the table onto his thigh. His thumb slid back and forth in a soothing caress. He didn’t need her upset or worried about him. He thought he’d dodged the bullet when he’d thrown her off with his assurances earlier.

  “Did you tell Drake that?” Remy asked. His sister had always been intelligent and she thought like a lawman.

  “I may have started the conversation,” Saria said, unrepentant.

  Bijou caught Remy’s hand beneath the table to still his fingers. He could feel the slight tremble, but when he looked at her, she had her chin up.

  “I told you, Blue, the chances are slim that they’re that stupid. These boys are locally bred. They know our reputations, and they aren’t goin’ to risk their lives and freedoms by getting anywhere near us.”

  She was leopard. T
here was no hiding anything from a leopard, not once they knew you, and Bijou was beginning to know him very well.

  “You think they’ll come for you,” she said. “You told me you’d never lie to me.”

  Remy shook his head. “No, chere, I don’ think they’re that stupid. I’m not saying the thought didn’t cross my mind, and maybe I was a little wishful, but from everything I’ve seen of them, these are smart boys. They aren’t goin’ to mess with us.”

  She relaxed a little, letting out her breath. “Just be careful, Remy. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

  “What am I? Chopped liver?” Gage complained.

  Saria laughed. “Not exactly, brother. You’re the clever one who pegged the Rousseaus for the break-ins.”

  “No one beats up the elderly on my turf,” Gage snapped, the smile fading from his face.

  Remy looked away quickly. He was proud of Gage, more than proud of the man his brother had become. Gage carried the confidence of the people in his parish for a reason. “No, they don’t, brother,” he murmured and raised his coffee cup.

  The sound of a leopard roaring nearly shook the house, sending chills down Remy’s spine. He dove at Bijou, knocking her from her chair, taking her to the floor as Gage did the same to their sister. The bullet went straight through the dining room window, through the picture on the far wall so that glass splintered and sprayed down.

  “That was Dash callin’ out a warning,” Remy hissed. “Move, crawl to the kitchen. Stay low. Saria, there’s a safer room in your quarters. Take Bijou and go there, but both of you be ready to shift if you have to. You have guns stashed, Saria?”

  Saria nodded. “I prefer my knife.”

  “There’s the saying about don’t take a knife to a gunfight,” Gage pointed out. “We’ll leave Dash to watch over you. Hopefully Drake and the boys are on their way back.”