Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

The leopard prowled close to the surface, demanding a mate, raking and clawing at his belly with need.
    He had no choice but to lift his head for self-preservation. If he went any further, if he touched her as he ached to do, he would never stop. He took a breath, staring down at her face, memorizing every detail.
    Emma stepped back, her eyes a little glazed. “What was that?” she asked, struggling for breath.
    “That was a thank-you. I love the painting.” He flashed a smile at her. “I’ve never actually had a birthday present before. This is my first.”
    She frowned. “Never? Why would—”
    His look stopped her midsentence.
    The tension drained out of her, although she still had a wary expression on her face. “Then I’m very glad I painted it for you. It wasn’t easy keeping it a secret, but you’re gone a lot these days and that gave me the extra time.”
    He frowned. He had an excellent sense of smell and it was odd that he hadn’t noticed the scent of paint.
    “Where did you work on it?”
    Emma fairly beamed at him, making him want to gather her back into his arms.
    “Joshua built me a small room in the barn. It’s not like you go there often, so we thought it the best possible place to keep a secret.”
    Every muscle in his body contracted. The leopard leapt, raking at him, snarling in protest. Even his cock tightened, a hard, pulsing weapon threatening to wreak vengeance. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
    “What did you say?”
    Emma flashed another grin. “Can you believe it? We managed to actually keep the painting a secret. It was really difficult to get the lighting right. Poor Joshua had to change it about a hundred times before I was satisfied. I hadn’t painted in a long while, so I was nervous about doing it for you. He was great, though, when I told him how important it was to me.”
    Her voice faded in and out as hot blood surged and retreated, ebbing and flowing like a series of tidal waves. Thunder crashed in his ears and he breathed down the black jealousy that threatened to break free. He tried not to picture Joshua alone with Emma, their two heads together, so close, a breath apart.
    He curled his fingers into a tight fist.
    He’d never been a jealous man. This horrific emotion shaking him was ugly and destructive. He fought for control, shocked at his inability to stop the rising tide of anger. He wanted to feel Joshua’s neck beneath his fingers, feel the man choking, the breath leaving his body. He wanted to rake open the belly, the fierce need primitive and strong.
    “Just how great was he?” His voice was a growl, a threat rumbling in his throat.
    He turned on Emma, his much larger frame looming over hers, backing her against the sink, trapping her body against the counter, one arm coming down on either side of her to form a cage. “How great, Emma?”
    Danger hummed in the air. Emma felt the tension in the room heighten but wasn’t certain why. What it did to her body was frightening. Her breasts tightened, nipples peaking. Arousal teased at her stomach and thighs. Hot liquid pooled and her womb spasmed. Her breath came in a ragged rush. She was all too aware of the heat of his body, of every muscle moving beneath his skin. His eyes glittered like old gold, and his mouth put erotic fantasies in her head.
    In all her life she’d never felt so achy, so in need, and she could see why women threw themselves at Jake. It was a little humiliating to be among them, a woman wanting to beg for his attention. She lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see what was happening to her. Even her skin felt him, an electric tingle that sizzled across her nerve endings.
    “Damn it, Emma, fucking answer me.”
    Okay. Now she was really sick. His harsh demand only sent a surge of fire through the liquid heat. Her tight inner muscles convulsed. She took a deep breath and let it out, determined not to allow her acute sexual awareness of him to affect her. “Are you angry with me for something, Jake?” Her skin itched, and for a moment she swore something moved inside of her, unfurling and wild. Her clothes actually hurt, pressing against her sensitive skin. She ached to turn her face up to Jake’s and devour his mouth, to shred his clothes and feast on his body.
    Emma’s throat closed and she shrank back against the counter, horrified at her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She’d never behaved like that. Never felt wanton and needy and desperate for sex.
    And with Jake?