Free Hunter's Prey, A by Sarah Cameron Page A

before he even faced her. Even tired as she clearly was, her voice was a sweet siren song.
     
    “You stole something from me,” he said, placing the now empty tumbler on the small end table beside the chair before smoothly standing to his feet, turning around to face her. He noted her increase heart rate and the beautiful scent of arousal that seemed to permeate her skin. What he hated was that Newman's stench was also noticeable. The ferocity with which he wanted to wash it away and replace it with his astonished him. Then he realized with full horror that she still smelt faintly of him, of sex and wilderness. Newman must have picked it up and it was clear that she was in much greater danger now.
     
    If he suspects...
     
    “Yes, I did,” she admitted shamelessly, then patted her bag. “I have it right here.”
     
    “Didn't you take a shower?” he asked harshly, his eyes glued to her cleavage, unable to draw away. She noticed it, but the outrage on her face had nothing to do with that.
     
    “Excuse me?!”
     
    Stomping her feet as she walked, she was suddenly in his face, nearly breathing fumes in anger. He had a feeling she wanted to throttle him.
     
    “What the hell are you talking about?” Her eyes turned dark with liquid rage. “I took a long and pleasurable shower in your bathroom eating your strawberries and using your things. If you dare saying I stink, then you can go fu-”
     
    Her breath caught when he grabbed her wrist, flicking it expertly to pull her against his muscular body in a whoosh. Her nipples hardened when her chest hit his and she couldn't help but tilt her head backwards, two sets of orbs passionately entangled.
     
    “It drives me crazy,” he said with a gruff voice, “smelling myself on you. In you. Newman must have picked it up, too.” Zoe nodded, realizing the purpose of Newman's conversation about wolves and eagles.
     
    “He's an eagle, isn't he?”
     
    Pulling away from her with both eyebrows raised in surprise, he grabbed the desk behind him to keep himself from grabbing her .
     
    “What the hell did you two talk about?”
     
    “He asked me what I thought about eagles,” she said cautiously, “and wolves .”
     
    “Damn it!”
     
    Turning around, he observed the beautiful night view through the floor-to-ceiling window, his mind reeling with the possibilities, each scenario worse than the previous one.
     
    “He knows.”
     
    “I now realize that,” she said begrudgingly, walking over to him to stand in front of him. When she touched his chest he exhaled loudly, looking her in the eyes.
     
    “I don't want you hurt. I've assigned a level six to you.”
     
    She scowled, not liking the idea of being followed any more than when she had been first informed of it. “You all told me I was going to have level four protection, just like the rest of your CEOs.”
     
    “Yes, but now you're in real danger,” he argued.
     
    “And I wasn't before? Newman can't hurt me.” He got the message. He could. Nodding, Damian flipped them around in an instant, pushing everything off the desk to lean her down on it.
     
    “What are you doing?” she demanded, though she didn't stop him. There was so much fire between them. She was a volcano and he was like molten lava inside her.
     
    “I need to be inside you,” he said hotly. “Christ, Zoe. You make me want to crawl out of my skin for you. Nothing can ever happen to you.”
     
    Deciding that was enough of an admission of his need for her, his fear for her safety, she let him pull her dress over her hips, unveiling smooth skin and lacy garters. The soft fabric pooled around her waist, suffusing her belly with warmth. Slowly, she spread her legs for him, displaying the transparent crotch that hid nothing from view, her dripping cleft visible through the soaked material, making him hiss.
     
    “Damn it, Zoe. You went to see Newman like this?”
     
    Smirking, she brought a manicured hand between her legs and pushed the