The Billionaire Jaguar's Curvy Journalist: BBW Panther Shifter Paranormal Romance (8 page)

“Is he—how old is he?”

“Three years younger than I am,” he said. “Twenty-one.” He buried his face in her curls, still wet from the shower. “I keep thinking, maybe it’s time to call him, but I’m afraid.”

He hadn’t told anyone this stuff for years. Chris knew a lot of it but he’d never let it all out at once, just told the story. Told someone the truth, and the whole truth.

And she wasn’t judging him. She didn’t pity him.

She just cared.

11

Abby ended up paying for the pizza in the end; they only took cash, and Paul’s wallet was too soaked to fish any bills out.

“I definitely owe you dinner after this,” Paul said, taking a slice gratefully. “Two dinners, I think.”

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” She sat across from him at her kitchen table. “I’m just glad we’ve got something to eat.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” she said. “A little pizza, the washer and the dryer—”

“You’ve accepted me,” he said. “Without—without even a question.”

“I had a lot of questions,” she protested. “I still have a lot of questions.”

“Not—not those kinds of questions.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. “When I first realized—it was weird. But it wasn’t exactly like I’d seen you growling or snarling or anything. You were...safe.”

He chuckled, but it was to hide some inner bitterness. “No one’s ever thought I was safe before.”

“I bet Michael does now,” she said. “At least once he gets let out of the hospital.” That reminded her. She picked up her phone and checked. She had a few texts, one from Tina about the ‘mystery man’ and one from Michael’s mom. “They’re keeping him overnight,” she said, sending her a text thanking her for the information. “I should probably be writing the article now.”

“Pizza first,” Paul said, tapping her plate. “Everyone works better on a full stomach. Remember I told you that everyone has to take real lunch breaks at Inti? It’s not just because I’m such a nice guy.”

“You are a nice guy,” she said, picking up her own slice of pizza and taking a bite.

“I don’t know about ‘nice,’ he said. “I try to be fair. And kind when I can be.”

“That’s better than nice.”

He smiled at that, and there was no bitterness this time.

They were finishing the pizza as the washer buzzed, and she got up to put Paul’s clothes in the dryer. The fabrics were...really nice. Really expensive.

She’d just put them on the low setting for now. At least then they could tell if they would shrink. She could just imagine handing Paul back a pair of pants half the size of his body.

It was fun having him half-naked in her kitchen, but it wouldn’t get him back to his car, much less without the whole town knowing about it.

That could lead to a lot of questions neither of them wanted to answer.

He came up behind her. “Everything all right?”

“I don’t want to shrink anything. You might have to wait it out a while.”

“I’ll stay as long as I have to,” he said, slipping an arm around her. “I don’t have to be anywhere until the morning, and I can postpone my first business meeting if I have to.”

“All right,” she said.

“Hmm.” He pulled her closer. “I wonder what we should do while we’re waiting for my clothes to dry?”

“We could watch a movie,” she teased.

“We could,” he said, putting a hand in her hair. “I like movies.”

“You have one of those big theaters at home? With the surround sound?”

“No,” he conceded. “But I do have a Blu-Ray player.”

“Even I have a Blu-Ray player,” she said. She’d gotten it refurbished, sure, but it was still a Blu-Ray player.

“Do you like surround sound? I could get surround sound.”

“I...I don’t think I need it,” she said.

“What do you think you need?”

“I don’t know,” she said, even as her body started burning. “You have any ideas?”

“I think I do,” he said. “I was just thinking I’d like to see that bedroom of yours.”

“I’d love to show it to you,” she said.

He lifted her up, scooping her into his arms like a bride he was about to carry over the threshold. “Just tell me which way to go.”

She pointed.

He carried her past the bathroom and into the bedroom. “Ah,” he said. “A big bed. I do love the right-sized woman with a jaguar-sized bed.”

Abby’s face heated up. She was just glad she’d remembered to make the bed.

He gently placed her on top of the quilt. “Now,” he said. “It doesn’t take much to get
me
naked, but you—”

She pulled her t-shirt over her head as he went to work on her jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down her hips as she wiggled them to try to get them off faster. He kissed his way down her stomach, then buried his face between her legs.

Oh, God—

He was just as good with his mouth down
there
as he was with a kiss.

His hands were on her thighs, firm and assured, spreading them apart as he dipped his head further down. Oh, he was good at this. So good. Her whole body was shaking again, like she hadn’t even come earlier, like she’d been without sex for months, years.

His tongue flicked gently against her clit and she had to bite back a scream.

Every touch sent the fire burning higher, more intensely. The heat between her legs was becoming unbearable. How was he doing this to her? Was it the cat, still hidden deep inside him?

She closed her eyes and let her body take the sensations, all of them, rolling over her like a thousand tiny waves.

The heat and pressure built and built, higher and higher, pushing her into—

Ooooh. Oh, yes, yes—

She came, her body shaking uncontrollably, white lights flashing in her vision. This was—

What a man, she thought to herself. What a man.

“Abby,” he said, sounding breathless and a little out of control himself. He shifted his weight, moving sleek and fast, and he was on her, in her, before she could even catch her breath. He felt big and hot inside her. He thrust inside her, hard, rocking her body. The air felt hot and cool against her skin as he moved.

It was all she could do to hold on.

He came inside her, hard, his hips bucking, and even though she couldn’t come again, it was like she could feel Paul’s pleasure. That was good. So good.

He rolled off her, taking her body with him, pulling her on top of him. It felt good, so good. Skin on skin. “Oh,” he said. “I’m never going to get tired of making love to you.”

Never? Never seemed a little...optimistic. “We just met,” she protested, gently.

“Just consider me a confident man,” Paul said. He pulled her face down to his and kissed her.

They did end up watching an old movie on TV, both of them on the couch, Paul’s arm tight around her waist. It felt more like being with an old friend, maybe an old lover—she’d never had a boyfriend long enough to have an ‘old lover,’ but she thought she could guess at the feeling.

She’d never felt so comfortable with anyone before, so warm and safe.

“Oh,
Bringing Up Baby’
s next,” he said. “I love that movie.”

“Isn’t that the one with a leopard?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Apparently Cary Grant was terrified of it, and Katherine Hepburn treated it like her best friend.”

“Is it weird? Seeing, like, a big cat in a movie, or a zoo?”

“Not really,” he said. “Not much different than seeing a monkey at the zoo. We have...shifters are different. When you’re a jaguar, you’ve got the cat’s senses and appetites, but your mind’s still human. Totally human.”

“You—you’re not the only one you know,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, I’ve been lucky. I’ve found friends over the years.” He squeezed her waist. “They’re pretty private about it, like me. But...they’ll trust you, the same way I do.”

“I don’t understand—I mean, I’m glad, but I don’t understand how you can just trust me like this.”

“I’m lucky,” he said. “Male shifters, at least the cats—we see our mate, and we know. No questions, no doubts. Mom said it was different for women, they had to guess just like humans do.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Mom thought it was maybe something way back in our history, from the cat side of things. Like, male lions will kill the alpha males and take over the pride. Can you imagine what it’d be like? Losing the guy you knew, for sure, was your mate, and having to be with the man who killed him? But—but I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure it happened like that, until—” He stopped, almost swallowing the end of the sentence.

“...until you saw me?”

“Yeah,” he said, very softly. “Sensed you. I’m sorry—this sounds so creepy.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me. It means a lot.”

“I...I have to be honest with you,” he confessed. “And I want to, anyway.”

“Even to a reporter?” she teased, bumping his foot with her own.

“Yes,” he said. “Because it’s you.” He put his hand on hers. “So, Bringing Up Baby?”

“Sure.”

Abby got up and checked Paul’s clothes a few times, letting them dry slowly so hopefully they wouldn’t shrink. They’d watched most of the movie by the time it was done. It was a good movie. They both laughed a lot.

It was getting late by the time it finished. “Your things should be dry,” she said. “Or—you can stay if you want.”

“You’re sure?” He stood up, putting a hand on her waist. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“No,” she said. “It’s...it’s all right.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I want it to be more than ‘all right,” he said. “Can you come to dinner with me tomorrow? Somewhere nice.”

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, as long as you like the article—”

He laughed and pulled her closer for another kiss. “I’ll love it. I know it.”

His clothes were dry enough to wear, so she drove him over to his car. He gave her one more long, passionate kiss before he disappeared.

When she got back home, she checked her phone again.

She had another text from Tina:
How did it go?!

She also had two texts from Sam, who was the typesetter at
Salem Beach Now.
Both of them were just two words:
Call me.

Well, it was close to eleven now, and Sam was one of the old guard. She probably went to bed at nine. She’d call her at home in the morning. Sam always took the day off after putting the issue to bed.

She did text Abby back.
He’s super cute. Super nice. Dinner tomorrow.

Yay!!! Does he have a brother?

Abby’s eyes went wide.
I don’t know,
she said, which was a little bit a lie, but really just the easiest way of saying
I don’t know if his brother will ever speak to him again or not.

Find out. We could double date. ;-)

Abby smiled.
OK.

By then she might have figured out what to tell Tina about Paul’s brother.

12

“We have a problem,” Chris announced, tossing a copy of
Salem Beach Now
on Paul’s desk. “Two problems, technically, but I think they share the same name.”

The headline, in big black letters, read W
ho Is the Mystery Jaguar?

Paul sighed. “Well, I’d expected that.”

“Oh,” Chris said. “We haven’t even gotten started. Your profile’s below the fold, and you’ll never guess whose byline’s on it.”

Paul flipped the paper over. “It’s not Abby?”

“My guess is it’s mostly Abby’s work, but it’s got Laura Moore’s byline. And her greasy fingers all over it.” Chris leaned over Paul’s desk and tapped a paragraph.

More than capable, Mr. Paul Larson’s smooth manner and joie de vivre—
”Joie de vivre? I don’t have any joie de vivre. She wasn’t around me long enough to see any joie de anything anyway.”

“And then, like two paragraphs later, the article snaps into a completely different voice, who knows what they’re actually talking about. That’s Abby. You can tell from reading her other articles.”

“What about the jaguar article?”

Chris sighed. “That isn’t great either. She does a lot of speculating. Had to be someone from out of town, male—which is bullshit, but she’s right, so strike two. It’s like watching someone flail around throwing wild punches. One of them’s going to hit.”

“That’s still not much. I can’t be the only person who came into that place from out of town yesterday.”

“I still don’t like it,” Chris said. “And I like this shitty profile even less. And putting both of those things together—” He stood up and punched a fist into his palm. “Ugh. I hate her.”

“I already knew why but this kind of underlines it.” The article about Inti was infuriating—one or two paragraphs of solid reporting and then a paragraph of ill-written mush. But the jaguar story could do a lot more damage. At least it was mostly garbage, but he found himself wishing no one had gotten a photo. Had it been Abby? She probably hadn’t realized he was a jaguar at first. There was no photo credit, which didn’t help.

He’d have to ask Abby.

Had she seen this? Did she know what had happened? She’d be upset. A profile—a good profile—of Paul and Inti would’ve made her look good. Made everyone look good. Instead, the paper looked like a badly edited hack sheet, and Paul looked like an idiot for giving them the exclusive interview.

It didn’t matter that much to Paul, not really, but it was annoying. And he was angry on Abby’s behalf.

He checked his phone. No texts from Abby. He decided to send one.
Are you okay?

A text came back ten minutes later, when Chris had gone out to his desk to sulk.
I’m so sorry.

You don’t have anything to apologize for.

I don’t know what to do.

I can call your editor.

No, don’t do that.

He pressed the Call button on his phone.

Abby picked up on the first ring. “Paul?”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t need you to fix my problems for me, for one thing. For another thing, he wouldn’t listen to you anyway. He doesn’t listen to anyone but Laura any more.”