Page 15 of Bad Blood Panther

Chapter 7

The next morning, Jenny was awakened by Xander bounding into the room and plonking himself down next to her on the futon. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, all that silky black hair spilling over his collar, looking hot as sin and smelling so good she just wanted to sink her teeth into him.

Help. No. That would be humiliating, especially since she didn’t know if he remembered anything about last night.

He bounced up and down, and she rolled over, groaning. She was not a morning person, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Even extreme hotness didn’t cancel out disgustingly chipper morning ‘tude.

“Can you stop that?” she muttered. “It’s like being woken up by a two-year-old.” She should know.

“Yeah, but you should get up,” he said, sounding more like the Alex she remembered, except for the extra I-give-zero-fucks-about-everything edge to his tone. “You’re boring when you’re sleeping. And the early bird gets the worm.” He nudged her legs, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated leer. “Wanna see my worm?”

“Eeeuw,” she said, sitting up and pushing her hair out of her face. “FYI, worm image equals utterly unsexy. And I don’t want to see anybody’s worm until I’ve had my coffee.”

Lie. Just looking at the way his t-shirt clung to his chest muscles made her insides turn into jelly, and she did want to see his…well. She sure as shit wasn’t calling it a worm.

“Whoa, wait.” Xander looked shocked. “Coffee first? Does that mean you don’t do wake-up sex?” He shook his head. “Pity the fool who gets with you, and ends up stumping around with his morning wood, and nothing but the shower and Mr. Hand to satisfy himself with. You should rethink that.”

She already was. Thinking about waking up with Xander, snuggling back against those washboard abs, feeling his hands slide around her breasts and between her legs, his morning wood all hard and sexy…

“You better get up,” he said, poking her legs. “Talking about morning wood and knowing you’re under there with hardly anything on is making me hot.”

Um, she’d forgotten why that was bad.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and pulling on her hand. She tumbled forward on her knees, her oversized tank top bunched around her waist, her red-satin-panty-clad butt waving in the breeze.

She scrambled to her feet, totally embarrassed, and pulled her top down to cover her butt. “Dude,” she said. “Quit manhandling me.”

“I’m panther-handling you,” he said. “Ooh. Panhandling for short. Make a note of that. And I like the hot red panties. Rrrr.” He growled.

Damn, that growl was sexy. He was always too damn sexy for his own good. Or her good, maybe. She smacked his arm. “No looking at my panties.” Unless he was going to do something about it… No. Wait. Not until they’d at least talked.

“You’re no fun,” he said. “You—” He caught sight of the half-healed gouges on her arm and sucked in his breath. Doing one of his lightning-fast mood changes, he caught her wrist, holding it gently, and turned her arm so he could see the wounds.

“Shit,” he said in a low voice. “Did I do that?”

“It’s okay.” She didn’t want him to make a fuss. She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go.

“It’s—fuck.” He scrubbed his other hand through his hair. “It’s not okay.”

Not if they were mates. Was that what he was feeling? She had to know.

“You fight the women in your crew, don’t you?” she asked. “And sometimes you bleed them?”

A tiny frown appeared in the middle of Xander’s forehead. “Well, yeah. Lissa’s bear is new, and she has a short temper. And Jaz—” He half-smiled. “Jaz is a brawler, for sure.”

“So why is this different?” She held her breath, both hoping and fearing he’d realize why.

The frown returned. “I don’t know.” He ran his fingers lightly up the wounds, and she shivered at his touch. “It just feels…wrong. Maybe because I knew you as a human. Back in the day when I didn’t fight girls. Or claw their faces off.”

Back when he felt like a man, she realized. Not a crazy monster. Her heart ached for him.

He raised his eyes to hers. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.”

Wow. That was not like the Alex she’d known. He’d always had trouble apologizing.

But she could tell he meant it. “I know,” she said softly.

“Sometimes me and my cat are occupying the same headspace, and sometimes—boom. He kicks me out and runs amok. It sucks.” He touched her wounds again, very gently. “For everybody.”