lap at the inches of skin he revealed until finally, she begged him to take her hard and fast while screaming his name.
Holy hell, she smelled good. Mangoes, he thought, or something similarly citrusy, with a softer brush of lavender. He wanted to bury his nose in her hair and draw that strangely bold and soothing combination deep into his lungs.
She struggled to free herself, which only ground her harder into his frame. Seth swallowed back a groan as heat shot down his spine and straight to his cock. Fur brushed against his mind, pressing, urging, driving him to wrap her close and feel her skin slide against his own.
What the hell?
He shook his head clear of whatever delirium tried to snare him. “You’re safe,” he told her. “I’m not the one they sent after you. You remember talking to me on the phone, right?”
Still breathing hard, she nodded.
Seth peeled his hand away from her and spun her back out in front of him. Fuck, she was gorgeous. She reminded him of dirty teenage fantasies of getting with a sexy librarian. Her modest skirt and blouse didn’t hide the ample curves of her delicious figure. Her mousy brown hair was mostly twisted up, with pieces falling out of her bun from what had transpired inside.
A growl leaked out of his throat and he shook himself. She was a job, not a date. He scanned down the rest of her body, ready to head back upstairs and kick the shit out of the lion all over again when he came to her legs. Her knees were torn up like she’d taken a bad fall.
“Your eyes—” She gasped and tried to back away.
Seth’s brows collided in confusion. “What about them?”
“They changed.” Her chest rose and fell in harsh pants. Terror filled her scent. “You’re one of them. Let me go! You’re one of them!”
Shit.
Seth tightened his grip on Lilah and passed a glance over the surrounding buildings. More than one sliver of light cast down on the parking lot. Struggling woman, big man, he didn’t want to stick around for whatever cavalry the Good Samaritans sent after him, nor did he want to let the lions catch up. He sure as fuck intended to have a frank conversation with Jaime for leaving the woman unprotected until his arrival.
The ruins of the front door banged open and the lion shifter stumbled against the frame. Bright eyes met his, but that was the only movement from the fucker.
Seth frowned. The back of his neck itched. The air prickled around him, like a storm ready to break. He didn’t know what the asshole intended, but he wasn’t waiting around to find out.
“Let’s go,” he ordered. He released Lilah’s shoulders only to grab hold of her upper arm and hustle her toward his truck.
She tried to pull away again. “Let me go!” she said in a strangled voice.
“And trust you aren’t going to do a runner? Not fuckin’ likely.” The gnawing sense of awareness in the back of his head couldn’t stand the idea of her disappearing on him.
“When the choice is between death at the hands of one shifter or another, I feel better on my own,” she snapped, still vainly trying to free herself from his grasp.
Seth narrowed his eyes. The waves of anger and stress rolling off her jangled his nerves. “Good thing I’m not a shifter,” he snapped and forced her inside the cab.
Not a shifter.
Lilah folded her arms over her chest and dug her nails into her skin to keep from screaming. The only thing that kept her from jumping out the door as soon as his back was turned was Jaime. She’d said the man would call to let her know he’d arrived. He hadn’t busted through her front door just to say hello. He’d followed the procedure laid out by someone she trusted and jumped right into action.
But she still saw his eyes change. That... that... not-shifter, not-man had a flash of gold when his eyes were dark before. She wasn’t crazy.
Lilah dug her nails in deeper. Not crazy. Not then, not now.
Seth whipped open the door and slid behind the wheel. Seconds later, he kicked over the engine and steered them onto the road.
Silence sat between them for long, tense minutes. Lilah watched the mirror almost as much as her supposed savior, possible abductor. He was taller than her by at least a foot, maybe a few inches more without her typical heels. Lean, too, but not the