Leopard's Kiss by Stephanie Rowe

Author:Stephanie Rowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781940968292
Publisher: SBD Press
Published: 2016-06-10T05:00:00+00:00

SLADE SWORE when he saw the look of surprise on Anya's face. He realized he'd said too much, done too much, and crossed too many lines. What had he done, making love to her? Telling her about his brother? Lounging in bed simply because he wanted to preserve the moment of intimacy, of having her sprawled across him, her chin propped on her hands, while she talked to him as if he were real, approachable, and flawed.

"Slade—"

"I need to go." He palmed her hips and shifted her off him, gritting his teeth at the feel of her warm curves beneath his palms. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to stay here, with her, in his bed for the night. For the week. Forever?

She made him think of the life he'd once had, of connections he'd dismissed, of values that he'd abandoned long ago...and he couldn't afford to go there.

He swung his feet off the bed and strode across his room to his closet. He opened the double doors and walked inside. He headed straight toward the back, grabbing a pair of loose black pants and a black shirt—

"There's so much you hide about yourself." Anya's surprised voice drifted across the closet and he spun around.

She was standing in the doorway, gazing at the racks of his suits. "How many suits do you own?"

"I don't know." He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and yanked them on, trying not to notice the way the light fell across her breasts and her hips. She didn't appear to care she was naked, but he cared. He cared a great deal. His cock was already hard, and perspiration beaded on his brow as he fought the urge to stride across the closet, sweep her up in his arms, and deposit her back on his bed.

She walked over to his tuxedo section and lightly stroked one of his sleeves. "You have six tuxedos."

"Yeah."

"Are all your suits custom made?" She brushed her fingers across the sleeve, and for a split second, he imagined her touching his arm that way. A light, barely-there brush that would require all his concentration just to feel it.

"Yeah, so?" He pulled on his pants, viscerally aware of every step she took. No one had ever been in his closet before, obviously. It should have felt dangerous, an insidious invasion of his most private world. Instead, anticipation hummed through him. He felt like he were on the edge of a high roof, crouched and ready...either to leap, or to retreat...depending on the wind, the night, and a thousand other factors so complex that only his subconscious could process them.

She picked up one of his shoes, an Italian-made wingtip he'd commissioned from his favorite Italian designer, while he'd been on one of his missions. "This is not what you wear when you're lurking in the dive bars hunting white leopards and assaulting demons."

He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. "No, this is true."

"So, what is all this?" She gestured around his closet.

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