Leopard's Prey

tugging and rolling her nipples, his teeth nipping, tongue sliding over the ache to ease it. She was sensitive to his every touch, to his mouth and hands and he felt her reaction, the shudder of her body, her hips bucking against him, the grinding of her body tighter along his thigh. He needed her to burn just as hot as he was. She had to want him as much.
    Bijou was on fire, burning from the inside out. Her body didn’t feel as if it was her own, yet was more of a fit than she’d ever felt before, which made no sense to her. She’d been fine, sitting in her room, going through the plans for the renovation of her apartment above the club, when she suddenly couldn’t sit still. A tidal wave of urgent demand swept over her.
    Her breasts ached and tingled. Felt swollen and needy. Her skin was too tight and far too sensitive. Even her clothes hurt. Wave after wave of heat surged through her body, rushed through her veins and pooled low and mean. She couldn’t stop moving, her body rippling with sensual sensations she couldn’t hope to control. She’d fled her room, trying to run away from herself and the way her skin itched and her groin throbbed with need.
    It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known Remy had gone all protective on her. He was that kind of man. She knew that going into it. She knew he felt responsible for her and admitting to him she was afraid of one of her stalkers had set him off. His kiss had ignited a fire and she couldn’t put it out, no matter how many times she reminded herself his kiss had been for the cameras and the tabloids to draw out her stalker. So why had it hurt so much to hear Saria confirm what she already knew? Why had it felt as if she’d been stabbed through the heart?
    She ran, her mind in chaos, her body in such urgent need she could barely catch her breath. She had never run from anything. She was a fighter, or she made a decision with her brain, not impulsively. Yet, this time, she couldn’t think. She couldn’t stop the blood coursing so hotly through her body. Running was the only thing to do. She had no idea what she would do when she got into town. Certainly she couldn’t have been looking for a one-night stand . . . And then Remy was there, so calm and cool, so totally in charge, like nothing ever got to him.
    He’d taken control, like he always did, in that charming, you’re-so-young and I’m-so-grown-up-and-in-command infuriating way of his. She both detested and loved his confidence, and that just showed her how truly screwed up she really was. When he’d taken her car keys right out of her hand, smirking at her, she’d experienced a truly frightening fury.
    She didn’t have a temper. Certainly not one with such intensity that it would cause an all-consuming reckless, rash,
idiotic
compulsion to slash Remy in his face. She wanted to rip his face right off his skull—to wipe that smug, self-confident smirk right off his face forever. For a moment, she even thought of leaping on him and biting him. So very un-Bijou-like. There had been a roaring in her ears. Her hands ached, knuckles swollen until her fingers curled like claws and she could barely stand it.
    And then he yanked her to him.
    Her stomach bottomed out and the throbbing between her legs turned into a terrible drumbeat of savage need. His hand fisted in her hair and dragged her head back. The bite of pain should have had her kicking and screaming and running for her life, but instead, her body had flooded with a hot, welcoming liquid. Every cell in her body reached for him. Something wild and uninhibited rose like a tidal wave from somewhere deep inside her.
    She was lost in the flames. In the intensity of his lust and her own. She didn’t even know she could feel so much. There was no turning back. No brakes. No thought. Only feeling. He’d ignited a firestorm, and there was no putting it out for either of them. She wanted to be closer to him, skin to skin. Anything else hurt. She could hear herself making frantic, mewling noises, desperation showing, but she couldn’t stop herself. His mouth was like a fountain of fire, a haven of molten gold she could never get enough of.
    It was the most frightening, scary, exhilarating feeling she’d ever had. Her body felt more feminine than it had ever been. She was acutely aware of every curve and the effect she had on Remy’s body. She reveled in her ability to inflame him, to drive him over the edge into madness, and yet, at the same time, she was