Wild Cat: Wild Things, Book 2 Read online

  He hurriedly shucked his boots and jeans. The lean waist that had hinted at the sizable package under the jeans hadn’t lied. Tawny hair, not unlike her own golden curls, framed his dick, already oozing with his pre-come. She took in every inch of him—every horny inch—and licked her lips.

  Love can tame the wildest heart…

  Golden Eyes

  © 2010 Maya Banks

  A prequel to Amber Eyes

  After Duncan Kennedy stumbles across poachers in his mountains, he is understandably angry. His discovery of an injured cheetah makes him even more furious. He takes the cat home until he can summon the local vet, only to get the shock of his life. When he checks on his charge, he finds not a cheetah but a gorgeous, very naked woman.

  Aliyah Carter spent the past six months trapped in cheetah form, a prisoner of the poachers who took her to use in an illegal exotic-game hunt. Finally she’s escaped, but now she faces another problem. A devastatingly sexy sheriff who knows her secret.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Golden Eyes:

  Duncan paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his mind ablaze with the day’s drama. A cheetah. She was a fucking cheetah. As mind-blowing events went, this one topped the list.

  Apart from the fact that he had a beautiful, naked cheetah-woman camped out in his bed, he also had to deal with the fact that poachers were turning out animals to hunt in his mountains.

  And to think he’d lamented the fact that nothing exciting ever happened in Elk Ridge.

  His first priority… Hell, what was his first priority? He had an injured chee…woman. What was he supposed to do with her? And he had poachers to catch and make damn sure their days of importing exotic animals were over.

  He spun around, took two steps toward the bedroom then stopped and walked back to the fireplace again. The bedroom was out. She was in his bed. Naked. There was only so much temptation a red-blooded man could take, and a voluptuous, golden-eyed goddess laid out like a Christmas present might well be construed a temptation.

  He flexed his fingers then curled them until the skin stretched and whitened across his knuckles.

  A sound from the bedroom had him yanking his head around.

  He strode out of the living room and rounded the corner into his room. He caught the door frame with his hand as he came to a halt.

  His breath stuck in his throat, swelled and rebounded into his chest.

  The fur he had covered Aliyah with was bunched around her feet. She lay on her hip, but her upper body was twisted so that her back was pressed to the bed. Her left arm was thrown wide to the side, and her right hand was curled into a fist at her shoulder.

  She was…quite beautiful, even in her state of distress. Apart from the inflamed-looking wound on her leg, her skin was unmarred by a single blemish. Slender legs led up to rounded hips, a tiny waist and two spectacularly formed breasts.

  Jesus, they were perfect. She was perfect.

  Gently rounded nipples, a soft peach color, so soft looking that he caught himself swallowing as he imagined tasting them.

  He closed his eyes. He couldn’t go there. He was turning to leave when she moaned again. As he looked back over at her, he could see a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. Her head twisted from side to side, and then her eyes blinked open.

  They glittered gold, and the pupils elongated and shrank to a vertical sliver. Her muscles twitched and jumped, and he realized she was fighting against her instinct to shift.

  Unsure of whether he should stay or whether he should get the hell out of the bedroom and lock the door, he stood there not knowing whether to shit or go blind.

  Her distress decided things for him.

  He hurried to the bed and knelt over her. “Aliyah,” he whispered urgently. “Aliyah, wake up, honey.” He reached down to touch her damp face. Tenderly, he pushed a tendril of golden hair behind her ear, and she nuzzled her cheek into his palm.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and he breathed in relief when he saw her eyes were back to normal.

  “Duncan?”

  “I’m here,” he said. Then he looked down and realized his hand still rested against her cheek. He started to pull it away, but she caught his fingers in his hand.

  “No, don’t go,” she said. “Please.”

  To his utter astonishment, she reached over and wrapped her arms around his waist then proceeded to snuggle into his body as tightly as she could go. Oh hell.

  He relaxed on the bed to alleviate the awkwardness of the position, which sent her seeking further into his arms.

  “It’s been so long,” she whispered.

  “Since what?” he asked as he smoothed her hair with his hand.

  “Since I felt another’s touch on my skin.” She rubbed her cheek over his chest and then impatiently shoved at his shirt, raising it so she could press her face to his bare skin.

  She ran her hands up his ribcage and over his chest as if she couldn’t get enough. Her warm lips glanced over the hollow, and he groaned as his cock, which had jumped to attention the moment she touched him, swelled painfully in his jeans.

  “Aliyah. Aliyah,” he said louder when she ignored him. “Honey, you have to stop.” He tried to pry her away, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He grasped her wrists and pulled just as her lips met the column of his neck. “God.” It came out more as a groan than an actual word.

  “Touch me.”

  “Aliyah…we can’t…don’t do that…ah damn it.”

  Her lips whispered close to his ear, and she nibbled delicately at the lobe.

  “Touch me,” she whispered again. “Please.” She captured her hands in his and raised them to her breasts.

  He might have resisted even that, though the weight of the soft mounds resting against his palms made his fingers itch to rub over her nipples, but when she reached down and slid her hand between his legs to cup the discernible bulge there, he was lost.

  “Slow down, sweetheart,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you. We have to take it easy. Your wound isn’t healed.”

  He groaned even as he said it. Surely this qualified him for sainthood. He had his arms full of a curvaceous hellcat intent on rubbing herself over every inch of his body and he was saying shit like let’s slow down.

  He might as well cut off his dick and throw it out the window.

  With a delicious-sounding purr, she arched her body and slid along his chest until her breasts bumped him right in the mouth. Unable to resist such a sweet offering, he nipped at the swell then lapped at the nipple with his tongue.

  She threaded her fingers into the hair at his nape and pulled him closer until he sucked the tender bud into his mouth.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  No longer able to fool himself into thinking they’d be taking anything slow, he wrapped his arms around her and lowered her to the bed. He was tugging at his jeans while she yanked at his shirt. And then he had an awful thought.

  Oh Jesus, let him have something. He shot off the bed and hurried into the bathroom to yank open the drawer. Hallelujah. One half-empty box of condoms. He hoped like hell the damn things didn’t expire because it had been a while since he’d used them.

  When he returned, Aliyah was spread out all over his bed, her lips parted, hair splayed out on his pillow, and those delectable nipples were puckered and just waiting for his mouth.

  Her gaze wandered down his body, and he felt himself harden further when her eyes glittered in appreciation. He wasn’t a vain son of a bitch, but when a beautiful woman looked at you and liked what they saw, it definitely added two inches to your dick.

  He tossed the condoms onto the nightstand and then crawled onto the bed beside her. The wound on her thigh was still red and angry, so he bent down and kissed the area just above it.

  Her hand tangled in his hair and coaxed him away to the rest of her body. He was hard and impatient, and he was positively itching to get between her legs. But he figured the quickest way to fall out of grace with a woman who
practically threw herself at you was to make it all end in three minutes flat.

  As he lowered his body carefully to hers, she moaned in pleasure.

  “You feel so good,” she murmured as her hands ran over his back. “Hard, strong. My people would call you a warrior.”

  “I’m hard all right, sweetheart, and it has nothing to do with being a warrior.”