Jaguar Hunt

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Authors: Terry Spear
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it was a good-night kiss. And it would be. Unless she wanted more.
    He could get lucky and she’d kiss him back.
    Somehow it didn’t seem right to go to bed with a woman and not at least kiss her good night.
    She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her—well, he was judging her lips, but when they curved up a bit, he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes and saw she was watching him.
    â€œWhat?” she asked.
    He couldn’t say it. David Patterson, who had no trouble interesting women in kisses and so much more, couldn’t say it.
    â€œDon’t…tell…me. You want a good-night kiss,” she said, but he wasn’t certain whether she was offering or…not.
    Not about to lose the opportunity, he placed his hand under her chin, lifted her face, and waited only the briefest period for her to pull away if she wasn’t in the mood for this. When she didn’t, he leaned down and kissed her mouth.
    Soft, sweet, tasting of pineapple rum, nectar from the jaguar goddess herself.
    He meant to go lightly, cautiously, sweetly. First kiss, first date—if he counted eating dinner with her at the romantically lit dining hall and running as jaguars in the jungle, and her licking his nose and later his leg as a jaguar as their first date. But she curled her fingers in his hair, pressed her hot little body against his, and kissed him back as if they had been dating for a good long while! As if she wanted him like he wanted her.
    Now this was more like it. He moved his hand to her back and caressed her as their tongues mated. She nibbled on his lower lip, swept her warm, soft mouth across his cheek, and tugged tenderly on his earlobe with her teeth. He was burning up with desire.
    He was ready to race back to his bedroom and grab one of his condoms when she kissed his forehead, pushed him gently away, and said, “’Night, tiger.” She turned her back to him.
    His motor was rumbling like a big cat in heaven. “Hot damn, woman,” he said softly, still in the throes of passion, needing to douse the flame that was burning brightly. He throbbed with need.
    She chuckled.
    He lay on the bed, his arms folded beneath his head, and stared up at the canopy over the mattress. He smiled. If this was only the beginning, they definitely needed the air-conditioned bungalow for however long they were going to be here. A ceiling fan wasn’t going to do it.

Chapter 8
    Tammy knew she shouldn’t have encouraged David by kissing him back.
    But she was furious that her brothers and his would warn him about her! Sure, she dated human types. That’s because most of the jaguar shifters she’d met were either Enforcers or JAG agents, and they thought they were hot stuff. She liked dating humans—for a short while, nothing long-term—who weren’t as arrogant.
    As for other jaguar shifters? The ones she met outside of the job were usually trouble. The type she had to haul in for causing problems for their kind. Perps were definitely not dating material.
    She had to admit she really liked David, despite him being a JAG agent. He was different from the others she knew. Maybe because he seemed genuinely interested in helping the teens and the missing cat. He’d understood her need for privacy earlier and given it to her. He had been protective when she’d run off into the jungle and caring enough to wash her.
    She appreciated his concern about her going on the zip line when he had to suspect she wasn’t fond of heights. And even that he’d upgrade their place using his own money. That he believed she would make more headway with the teens than he would. That showed he thought she was a valuable member of the team.
    And she loved how they could discuss the situation with each other, a meeting of the minds, and brainstorm a bit, unlike working with partners on some of her former missions who either didn’t share with her or dictated and expected her to follow

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