His Darkest Hunger (Jaguar Warriors 1)

The sight of her blond hair floating lazily along the top of the water as she sank beneath its cold dark surface was one he’d like to forget he’d ever witnessed.

He had tried to convince himself over the last few years that she never meant anything to him. That Libby Jamieson was nothing more then a woman he’d had sex with. Great sex, actually, but nothing more. He was a jaguar, and like most of his kind, had somewhat insatiable needs. Women were like candy. They were gobbled up and spat out when the flavor began to get stale.

He had first met Libby when she was called in to work with his team on an assignment in China. She’d been trained in the paranormal sector at Quantico, even though she was wholly human.

She’d been a kick-ass trainee, and came to his unit highly recommended. She thought quickly on her feet, was amazing in hand-to-hand combat, and her pale beauty was an added bonus.

Most men, whether human or other, were easily led astray and thought with their dicks when a beautiful woman was about. She’d been used many times to trap a target, and after a few months of working together, Jaxon had been unable to resist her charms.

They’d fallen into a passionate, sometimes volatile relationship that lasted two years. They fought and then had the most amazing makeup sex ever. She even embraced the jaguar that lived inside of him.

Jaxon groaned, feeling his groin tighten as memories of pounding his cock deep into her body flooded his mind. She had been wildly passionate, funny, annoying, and tender. She lived life to the fullest, and with her, he had felt complete in a way he’d never experienced before.

But then, like all females, she had wanted more than he could give, and the last few months had not been great. They fought a lot. She wanted the white picket fence, and he didn’t.

Up to that point he had never envisioned a life shared with anyone. He knew that when he took a mate, it would be forever, and he just wasn’t ready for that. His life was and always had been the hunt.

The last night they spent together had been more volatile than most. He grunted, trying to force the memories away. But it was impossible.

She’d been so emotional in the preceding weeks. Either up or down. There was no pleasing Libby, but even he was shocked to find out that she’d applied for a transfer to a different unit.

At the time, he was getting ready to take off with Declan and Diego. The mission was routine. Ana hadn’t been involved, and Libby’s part in the initial legwork was over. He had been livid when he found out about the transfer, and that led to one of their most heated blowouts.

As always, their argument turned into passionate sex.

Jaxon groaned and his eyes closed as memories of her smell washed over him. Images of her long blond hair cascading down, caressing the dark skin of his body, pulled at him, and his shaft became painfully engorged as he tried to wipe the pictures from his mind.

But it was as fresh as if they’d just made love.

Her eyes had been sad; he remembered the tears that gathered in the corners. He remembered reaching for them and kissing them away as she rode him hard. When they had both come to orgasm, she cried against his chest, and he felt like the biggest loser on the planet.

He’d left her there, lying in his bed alone, huddled in the mess of blankets. He remembered telling her they’d sort things out when he returned.

That was the last time he had laid eyes on Libby.

Until tonight.

Jaxon threw his head back, willing his hard body to succumb to the bone deep weariness that lay heavy in his heart and soul. He needed to sleep. He needed to forget. For surely, on that last night, the betrayal had already been in place. As surely as he’d pumped furiously into her, trying to forget their problems in the softness of her body, she had already signed Diego’s death warrant.

And perhaps her own.

Libby came awake with a start. It was dark, cold, and hard where she lay. Slowly, her hand cupped the side of her body, and she groaned in protest as tight muscles competed with the pain that rifled like fire through her rib cage.

The burn was intense, and she sat up carefully, hissing loudly as every single cell in her body shrieked against the movement.

She began to focus and breathe through the discomfort, trying to force a calm that she was nowhere near feeling. But it was no use and blood began to pump through her veins rapidly as her heart rate increased. A slow burn unfurled, deep in the pit of her stomach. It wove its way rapidly through her body, until her chest was heaving with a mixture of emotions that were making her light-headed.

She welcomed it.

For the first time in a long time, she felt alive. She laughed then, the sound strained and bordering on hysterical.

How crazy was that?

Her body was a mess of injuries, old and new; she had no idea who the hell she was, or why people were shooting at her. And the tall dark man? Who the hell was he?

Her brain protested all the questions and feelings swirling about, and as she recalled his face, Libby was startled at the intensity of emotion that washed over her. She realized then that the tall dark stranger who brought her here was the reason she felt alive. As if she’d lived the last two months—which in fact were the only two months she could remember—in slow motion.

And truthfully, they had been. It was all a blur, and she was suddenly so tired of being the helpless victim. It somehow didn’t seem the right fit to her. As if in her former life—whatever that meant—she would not have taken any of this shit lying down.