The Snow Leopard's Pack (Glacier Leopards 5)

That seemed workable, at least.

Lillian was startled to see that they moved around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Normally, two people in a kitchen was a recipe for bumping into each other and dropping things left and right, but somehow Cal seemed to have a sense for where she was, and was always turning at the right moment to hand her a plate or point out the right cabinet to put something in.

She had to wonder if that apparent sense for her was as...physical as the sense she had for him.

He was a big man, and it almost seemed to her that she could feel his body heat, radiating off of him, making her want to lean in close. When he was behind her, she knew it with a bit of a shiver, and when he was turning to her, handing her something, she was reaching for it almost before she knew it was there.

She’d never experienced something like this before. With Lew, it had never been quite this...natural. It had always been hard work to meet Lew where he was at, and she’d thought that meant the marriage was worthwhile, a product of both of their hard work, but obviously she’d been wrong.

And this was something else.

When the last dish was shining in the dish drainer, Lillian stared at the spotless kitchen. “How are you not married?”

Then she winced. She’d been busy suppressing any truly insane statements like, Can I touch your biceps? or Your shirt got some soapsuds on it, better take it off, or even the most outrageous, Would you shift for me? I want to see what you look like as a snow leopard. You must be beautiful.

And now that had fallen out of her mouth instead.

Cal had turned to look at her when she spoke, and suddenly he was...close. Very close. Inches away, and if Lillian had thought she could feel his body heat before, well, that was nothing on now.

“I never met the right woman,” he rumbled.

Forget his body heat, she could feel his voice. All through her lower stomach, making her muscles go liquid.

She leaned in. She couldn’t help it. He was so close, and she just wanted—she just wanted—

He kissed her.

That was what she wanted. Lillian melted under his mouth instantly, letting the kiss sweep her away. Cal made a low noise and pulled her against his body.

She felt like she’d been filled with this tension for hours. This anticipation, this awareness of her own body. She hadn’t known how to disperse it, to make herself relax agai

n, get rid of the—thrumming inside her that had been getting steadily harder and harder to ignore.

This, it turned out, was the answer. Lillian’s arms went around Cal’s shoulders without her even realizing what she was doing—until she was struck by how broad they really were.

His muscles were supple, not rock-hard like she’d assumed they would be. Lillian thought of a sleek cat, and sighed against his mouth.

Cal’s hands were firm on her waist, his fingers stroking gently over the fabric of her shirt. He deepened the kiss slowly, his tongue slipping into her mouth as Lillian opened for him.

The full-body relaxation Lillian had been feeling, the total relief from tension that had suffused her body, started to transform into something else. God, it had been so long since she’d been aroused by a man like this, she’d almost forgotten what it was like.

Or had she? Because she was sure, even though it had been years since they’d had sex even before the divorce, that she’d never, ever felt this way with Lew.

Like she was on fire. Like there was a flame inside her, centered low in her belly and spreading out through her entire body. To her fingertips, to her toes, pushing her to press in closer, slide her tongue along Cal’s, and step backwards as he moved forwards, pushing her back against something solid.

Lillian felt his thigh slide between hers and press right up against the ache between her legs. She broke the kiss to breathe, to just feel that sweet pressure, her eyes slipping closed.

“Good?” Cal’s voice was filled with the warmth she’d come to expect from him, but with a deep edge of something more. Something hotter.

“So good.” Lillian let herself slide down whatever she was braced against—the fridge, she realized hazily—just a few inches. But it was a few inches of delicious friction through her jeans. She was wet, she knew it; probably she was about to soak through the denim and leave a damp patch on Cal’s thigh. The thought was dizzily hot, dirty like she wasn’t used to.

Cal groaned softly, the noise deep and rough and sending a thrill through her. Lillian opened her eyes, wondering, because she hadn’t done anything; in fact, her hands had fallen away, and she was just—

—braced against the fridge, rubbing up against his leg. She froze in place, a blush flaming her cheeks. Of all the low-class, shameless—

“Whoa, no,” Cal said. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes were fixed on her face. She realized that he must have made that noise just because of...how she looked.