Blood pulsed like a roaring river, ramming through his body. He couldn’t remember a single time when he’d ever felt this hot, this hungry for a woman. She was turning him into an inferno of need.

“I’m going to tell you every single fantasy I’ve ever had, baby.” He licked at the seam of her lips and she melted into him. Rising on her toes, she pressed her body against his groin. Dario moaned through the sensation of her body rubbing over his.

“You didn’t even tell me the first one,” she replied, a laughing, teasing lilt in her voice.

Guiding her into the one room he hadn’t visited yet, he didn’t bother turning on the light. “Sweetheart, if I get that one fantasy tonight, my heart may not survive the shock.”

Lashes fluttered. “Oh. Now that does sound like a challenge.” The drag of her fingers snaked under his shirt again, and he chuckled. Then she was tugging it free of his jeans waist. With a little help, the pullover vanished beyond his shoulder.

Within minutes, they’d managed to strip each other bare, except for one little article that left Dario speechless.

“A thong?” His beautiful woman wore thongs? He couldn’t believe it, but there it was. A silk triangle smaller than a handkerchief.

She giggled self-consciously. “They make me feel sexy.”

“Sheridan, if you were any more sexy, I’d incinerate.”

Her eyes widened, her immediate answer being to shake her head. He gripped her between firm palms. “Never again. I mean that.” Confusion dampened her excitement. “After. We’ll talk later. I need you now, baby.”

With his mouth devouring hers, he urged her backward until the edge of the bed stopped her. “Where are they? I’m not getting out of this bed for anything.”

“Nightstand.”

He grinned. “Hallelujah.” Then laughing at her startled chirp, he toppled them both to the bed, catching her in his arms. Rolling her beneath him, he began to drop open-mouth kisses across her collarbone. When he reached the harried beat of her pulse in her neck, he suckled the erratic pounding between his lips, scraping his teeth over her before pulling hard on the skin. She arched and groaned like a winter wind, a low howl that made the hair on his arms stand up. He’d never heard that sound, never heard it come from a woman. He shuddered as the timbre faded.

Rhys was a walking god. Dark brown hair and luscious eyes, he was always able to make her heart race. Even sitting in the chair across the room by the window, simply watching him sleep, he drove her crazy to be near him. Their relationship hadn’t started out on the best foot, but they’d somehow managed to survive each other. The first thing she’d wanted to do was run, then kill him and then run had become an option, because he’d discovered her secrets. How quickly she found out he was a man who was worthy of her secrets.

Burying her sigh in the crook of her arm where it rested on her lifted knee, she let her gaze wander to stare out the window again. It was afternoon. He was due back at work the next day. Their weekend away at his grandfather’s cabin in the Catskills was a total disaster.

Because of her. She winced, toying with the rolled seam edge of the chair cushion between her fingers. How had they known to set the net? Rhys was right. What was the chance that a cheetah would be found in the mountains?

In this form, unless she needed blood, she was undetectable. She bled red, the same as a human, only her blood never lost its red oxygenated color. She didn’t have a blue vein in her body anywhere. So maybe she wasn’t exactly like a human, but whoever noticed had to be damned close to catch the difference.

Except for Rhys, no one ever had been.

Felids were home schooled or tutored, because they couldn’t pass the blood work needed for public schools. They didn’t need the vaccinations because of their immunity, so that was another strike against them, though none had ever been infected by the many ailments that seemed to plague mankind. Fitting in had never been easy, regardless.

There weren’t only the public aversions, but the cat needed to run. That was essential. A cat with cabin fever grew cranky and hard to control. Mature Felids could control the cat easier, but it still wasn’t a pleasant experience for the Felid, or anyone they were cooped up with.

That was why Rhys had taken her north. Since admitting to their bond and letting the relationship happen, she’d been pacing the townhouse for weeks. His grandfather’s cabin should have been perfect, a long way out of the city. Secluded. Unknown. But someone had known.

Then a thought occurred to her. Something he’d said…only them, not with the family. He was right. Who knew the two of them were going there for the weekend? No one else in his family knew her secrets. He’d glossed over a lot of her background and childhood with his mother, refusing to divulge anything she wouldn’t say on her own. Rubbing her chin on her knee, she knew she loved him for that alone.

The world outside the window was mostly quiet. The suburb where his townhome was located was well out of the inner city. Birds flew from tree to tree, chirping and discussing their moment to moment. Squirrels raced up and down large elms and oaks, their brown tails fluffy banners of their passing.

A tiger trotting down the sidewalk would create havoc and terror, she was sure of it, though the idea of doing it still brought a smile to her, just because it would be interesting to say the least.

Her brow scrunched as she tried to sift through memories and possibilities. Had someone discovered what she was, what they were, and were hunting for them, like Rhys feared? She wasn’t sure how many Felids still existed, only the five from her home pod. She knew there had been over a hundred on the initial mission sent to Earth, but beyond that, much of what had been was lost to memory. To help the younger generations integrate easier, the elders had even ceased using their own language. As different as a sponge to a turnip, the Felids had managed to hide among the humanoid race, though their biology and anamorphic ability set them apart irrefutably.

Laying a cheek on the crook of her arm, she wished she had answers to what had spurred yesterday morning’s capture. Maybe it was simply because she was a cheetah caught in the Catskills. Though the net had to have been set well in advance. Was she a catch that had caught them by surprise? What else had they expected to trap? And why by the cabin? Mira rubbed her face trying to replay yesterday morning. She was going to get a headache trying to understand what had happened. The longer her mind ran in circles, the tighter that circle shrunk, giving her no answers. Maybe she wasn’t the only one using the area for a running ground and had been captured instead of another Felid.

Or maybe they were just cruel, heartless poachers really only out for whatever was caught in their net.

She must have made their jaws drop, she thought. Either way, now that someone knew there were cheetahs in the Catskills, people would be combing the range looking for more—or just for her.

A sigh drew her attention to the conked out man lying on his side on their bed. Considering the day before, the long night and that morning, he was probably exhausted. She hoped someday to have children with him. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible either, as previous couples had discovered. Their humanoid DNA was close enough to merge and essentially create a hybrid, but the Felid remained dominant. She hoped their species never lost that uniqueness. She could imagine children with his solid shoulders and his eyes. Cloud gray and brown, like winter bark.

Mira followed his hand when it appeared from beneath the sheet at his hips. His fingers spread and wove down his chest to linger over his flat stomach. Her pulse hitched, and she was unable to look away. Flicking upward, his eyes were still shut. She wondered if he were asleep, or if he knew she was watching every single motion he made.

Compelled to follow that wicked hand, she watched as it drifted over his pecs to inch beneath the sheet edge, where the noticeable bulge created by his erection was impossible to miss.

“You’re evil,” she teased him, knowing without a doubt he was awake, and was aware of her captivation.

“No, I’m trying to be tempting,” he told her. “I’m all alone in this bed.” His lips stopped moving to form a slight pout.

Imagining his hands on her body and the rough pads of his fingers caressing her, sent tingles up and down her spine. Her nipples budded into aching points beneath the t-shirt, rubbing beneath the soft cotton. Her head tipped, feeling the exploratory touch over her breasts to tweak and play with them before he cupped each to tug at the nipple with just a twist of pain. The shock sent a jolt of awareness straight down to land with a pulse between her legs. She moaned breathlessly, gripping the edge of the sink to stay standing. Her legs trembled and liquid heat dampened her pussy.

The warmth of his breath would flow over her neck, his lips and tongue teasing her the same way his fingers would, with flicks and nips of teeth and fingertips. The trail of his hand would linger on her stomach, tracing her bellybutton, making her squirm. Laving against her pulse with a slow, torturous tongue, his fingers would delve between her legs, gliding effortlessly into the moist folds of her sex. A shudder racked her frame as desire spilled into her bloodstream.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. Shaking, she drew a breath, collecting herself. She was in his bathroom for heaven’s sake, daydreaming. A sexual daydream! And if she’d had even another two minutes, she was sure she could have orgasmed imagining his touch alone. Another slow inhale and she released the sink, her insides still quivering and needy. She felt flushed from her cheeks to her knees, but with each breath, she trembled less with wanting.

Washing her hands as best as she could without seeing what she was doing, she blanked out the detailed pictures her imagination had kindly given her. She was only marginally successful.

Shaking the water off her hands, she carefully turned, reaching for the towel she knew was close by, and instead, bumped into a hard set of abs.

“Oh!” she squealed then stumbled a step, losing her balance at being taken by surprise, right into his arms. Warm and strong, he caught her. She swore she could feel herself melting from the surge of body heat between them. It went miles deeper than even his voice had gone the day before.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I heard you moving around and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Her heart stuttered, and she fought to reset her equilibrium. Her brain was threatening to short circuit. She was pressed into the wall of his chest and stomach, her nose inhaling his scent of pure male and warmed cotton. A low purr formed in her throat. He felt so good. Without planning to, she rubbed her cheek against his chest, her arms winding around his waist naturally.

She’d never in her life reacted to a guy like she did to Rush. He made her feel absolutely wanton.

Horny, her mind supplied. Yeah, that too.

The weight of his fingers sweeping across her back sizzled against already sparking nerves, recreating the delicious desire she’d imagined only a few short minutes before. Molding herself against him, her blood raged. Good God! Was that his…? She licked her lips unconsciously. It wasn’t small by any means, long and thick and… She knew she was drooling, drowning as her imagination and body left her restraint in the dust.

“Kay?” Her name sounded strained. The racing of his heart thundered beneath her ear.

Solid muscled thighs brushed against hers and her body went liquid. The urge to climb him like a tree and hang on blazed like a living need within her center.

A low groan vibrated his ribs and his arms tightened, encircling her. “Kay, you’re killing me.” She felt him move as he bent practically in half to bury his face against her neck. “Sweet hell. You feel good.”

“Thank you.”

With little warning she dragged her nails lightly from his scalp down his neck, mimicking scoring his skin. He arched and growled, throwing his head back as his eyes snapped shut. She’d never had the guts to come right out and tell a guy that she wanted to get as naked as possible and see what came next, but if Jonas couldn’t understand this, then she really was reading him so very wrong. There was an almost animalist intensity to Jonas. Taking a chance, she dragged those same nails down his chest until she reached his last rib, and held on, digging through the cotton of his t-shirt. Muscles jumped and bunched in answer. He tensed from his shoulders to his knees, and she felt it all along her body. She wanted to see him react, not just feel it.

His jaw was tight. When his eyes popped open, the fire she found in them was rich and deep. “Be careful how you play,” he warned her. She tilted, hearing a deeper entendre in the words, but too caught up in the spontaneous wildness of the seduction.

“I want to play,” she informed him, pouting softly. She wanted more than that, and she was pretty sure he knew it.

He lowered until he was right next to her ear. His voice dropped a whole octave, sending shivers cascading down her spine. “Get in.”

She didn’t hesitate to ask why. She found the door handle and slid behind the wheel. He was in on the other side before she’d shut her door.

“Pull out and turn right at Oliver.” She nodded at the crisp directions.

Oliver was a beautiful street with old-style buildings and huge storefronts. Many had historical markers and were kept up as part of the town’s historical presence. He pointed to an alley that was lined on one side by trees. “Park there.” She did. The thick canopy of trees shaded the street and parking between the trunks provided some protection. At least on a Saturday the alley wouldn’t see much traffic.

He undid his belt buckle and moved his seat all the way back. “Come here if you want to play,” he taunted her in a seductive tone.

“In the car?” She almost giggled, her eyes widening at the idea. She wasn’t exactly seventeen anymore. She’d only done it twice in a car in college, and that sure hadn’t been all that memorable.

“No. But you should know better than to taunt the big dog on the porch.” He reached over and easily lifted her onto his lap when she undid her own belt. His strength surprised her. The way he just plucked her out of her seat and settled her onto his lap made her gasp. He sank down so she wouldn’t hit her head on the roof. Her legs tangled with his, and then she couldn’t move if she wanted to. She didn’t.

“Two days.” Brigit ran her fingers through her hair. How was she going to pull that off? She didn’t have tons of cash and a flight forty-eight hours ahead was going to cost a fortune. A bus would be cheaper, but could she do it in two days?

“Let’s surprise your mother,” Ja’Rol offered. “We do miss her. She’d been with us for a long time.”

“How?” she asked, questioning them both.

“Tell us where you’re staying, and your number. We’ll arrange for you to be picked up. We’ll fly. A final gift to say goodbye for her.” Slone sat, looking at her, hardly blinking.

“Won’t that interrupt your week?”

Ja’Rol smiled. “It’ll be worth it.”

After giving them her information, she took a couple numbers with her in case something changed. She promised to be packed and ready by seven the next night to catch the flight with them.

Standing, she noticed again how they stood over her, tall and broad. Both watched her with a protective gleam, and with Ja’Rol, more than a hint of desire. She couldn’t argue with what she saw in him. She felt it too, but being attracted to them both confused her. Just thinking about it made her nipples tighten more.

Feeling off kilter, she shook their hands, fighting to hide the tremble as heat flared up her arm to land in her stomach. It oozed like a hot lava flow to settle between her legs, making her damp with want the longer she stood with them.

“Until tomorrow,” Slone said. His voice had dropped to a low timbre. The kind of voice that made women swoon off their feet. Because she almost did.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said, trying to keep herself grounded. He smelled as good as Ja’Rol. Damn. What did they wear? She was so buying it.

“We’re happy to. You should be with your mother when she shares vows with her soon to be husband.”

Decadent. She was staring at the personification.

She licked her lips. “Tomorrow night?”

“Seven sharp,” he replied. Still holding her hand, he lifted it and brushed the back of her knuckles with his lips, just the softest tease of heat to skin. Her body pulsed as liquid slicked her pussy. Shit. I have got to get out of here before I combust.

“Let me walk you to the way out,” Ja’Rol offered.

Almost numb with need, she followed. Slone opened the door and with a hand to her back, she let Ja’Rol guide her to the elevator. “All the way to one,” he told her.

She nodded. “I can get a cab.”

“A cab?” He glanced at her, his eyes wider. “Not for Traci’s daughter. I’ll go down and call for the car. Are you already settled at your hotel?”

“Yes,” she answered, feeling breathless.

“Good.”

“It’s not an imposition? Doesn’t it take money to just drive me to my hotel?”

“You are now our guest, as we will be your guests to your mother’s wedding. We take care of our guests.”

She felt it was a losing battle, so she didn’t push. Riding in the elevator was a torture. Not as rugged as Slone, dark brown hair, honey gold eyes, he was perfection.

Decadence and perfection. And she was about to be ensconced in an airplane for hours with the two of them.

Brigit swallowed the groan, crossing her arms to conceal her arousal.