“I’m waitin’ on you,” he pointed out.
The breath hissed out of her. She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. “I understand and I’ll talk to you, but not now.”
“So demandin’.” He took her hard. He took her fast, and he went so deep he might have actually made it to her throat. His hands settled around her hips and he pounded into her, telling her in no uncertain terms how much she meant to him. Telling her without words, knowing if there was one woman in the world who got it, it would be her. Still, she needed the words. His woman deserved them.
I’m in love with you, Pepper. I always will be.
She was there. In his mind. Filling him with her, just as he filled her body with him. He was damned glad he’d done a stupid thing and followed his brother into Whitney’s demented program. And maybe, whether he liked it or not, he owed Whitney in a weird, roundabout way. None of it mattered to him except his woman and the fierce way she loved him back.
Cat’s Lair
Keep reading for an excerpt from the next Leopard novel by Christine Feehan
Available May 2015
Catarina Benoit woke to screams. Terrible, frightening screams that echoed through her bedroom. Her heart pounded and sweat beaded on her body. Her long hair hung around her face in damp strands. She clapped a hand over her mouth to still the cries, her throat raw even as her eyes darted around the room. Searching. Always searching.
She searched the high places first – anywhere he could be crouched. Watching. Waiting to strike. She searched the windows. The glass was covered with bars, but she knew that wouldn’t stop him if he found her. Nothing ever stopped him. He could get inside any house, any building. Anywhere. Rafe Cordeau, the thing of nightmares.
She was safe. She had to be. She lived completely off the grid. Underground. She only came out at night. Her one exception to her night rule was her hour of running just before sunset. She worked in a quiet part of town, in a store no one would ever consider she would work in. Rafe would never figure it out, not in a million years. He couldn’t find her this time. She’d planned too carefully. She’d even stolen enough money to get herself a start. Right out of his safe. The one no one could crack. She’d done that. He wasn’t going to get his hands on her again. Never again.
She fell back against the pillows, drawing her knees into her chest, making herself into a small, protected ball, rocking gently to try to calm herself, to push the terror of the nightmare away. She could taste bile in her mouth.
Drawing in great, deep breaths to try to control her wild heart, she felt something else, something inside unfurl and stretch. It terrified her too. There was something in her, biding its time, waiting for a chance to get out, and she feared it was a monster. She feared he’d put it there, he’d somehow made her like him.
She knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep. Every window was covered with heavy drapes to block out the sun, but still, she would never be able to go back to sleep. She forced her legs to straighten. That hurt. Every muscle was sore from the terrible coiling in her body. She knew from experience it would be like that all day, her body feeling as if someone had beaten her up with a baseball bat.
She sat up and scooted to the side of the bed, first, as she always did, feeling for the gun hidden beneath her pillow. The solid weight of it always made her feel better. She worked out, trained hard, even when she knew she still wouldn’t have a chance against him if he found her. Even so, she lived her life. Held herself still. Kept to herself. Reduced his odds.
She took a shower in the small cubicle. It was a rigged hose with a spray nozzle over the top of a tiny booth with a drain. It didn’t matter. She was safe. She lived in a warehouse and not in her car. Mostly the warehouse was empty, but her martial arts instructor owned the property and he’d allowed her to rent the space when he realized she was living out of her car. He had barred the windows for her. She had put in the double locks herself.
She had done everything necessary to make herself safe, but then she’d made a vow. She would be happy every single second she was living free and alive. She wouldn’t hide in the warehouse, shut away from the world; she would live. She’d be smart and careful about it, but this time she wouldn’t be a mouse hiding. It hadn’t done her much good the last time, and she’d wasted that little bit of freedom she’d had. The price definitely hadn’t been worth it then. She was going to make certain it was this time.