The Curse of the Tiger

by Bebe Balocca

  “Ms Hopper?” she asked politely. “This is Margaret Braughm. I’m so pleased that you called. It seems that the account for Kat’s Crest Refuge has grown quite a bit this morning.” Faline’s heart rate accelerated.

  Paul wagged his shabby eyebrows at her and grinned.

  “The sum of five million dollars was donated to Kat’s Crest Refuge by an anonymous donor via your website at nine thirty this morning. I will send you a bank statement through the mail, but you may check your balance online immediately and see this change reflected there.”

  “Um,” Faline mumbled. “Huh. Anonymous, you say?”

  The bank manager chuckled. “Yes, surprisingly enough. Perhaps one day you’ll learn who made the donation.” Ms Braughm paused before continuing. “At any rate, I’m very pleased for you and for the refuge, Ms Hopper. I think that what you do for the tigers is just wonderful.”

  “Thank you,” Faline answered, her voice unsteady. “Thank you so much, Ms Braughm. Goodbye.” She disconnected the call and replaced her phone on the table. Looking from Sabrina to Mick to Paul, Faline felt a wash of relief flood through her body. “You guys, it’s true. The money is there. The refuge is safe. We don’t have to close.” She buried her face in her hands and wept with joy. “I just can’t believe it,” she choked out between racking sobs. “I don’t understand it, but it’s true, and I’m so glad.”

  Sabrina sat beside her and wrapped one lean, bronzed arm around her shoulders.

  Mick pulled a bottle of cold champagne from the brown sack on the counter and popped it open while Paul removed four glass tumblers from the kitchen cabinets. “I believe this calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Mick said as he filled the glasses.

  Chapter Two

  Hunter heard their raucous laughter and chuckled. Of course, they were vastly relieved. Based on what he’d learned, the tight-knit group genuinely cared about the tigers and wanted to continue the mission of Kat’s Crest.

  Hidden behind the wide trunk of a cottonwood tree—one of the few in the yard left untouched by the tornado—Hunter studied the grounds of the refuge with an appraising eye. From his research, Hunter knew that the sanctuary itself consisted of roughly one hundred and fifty square miles of rolling Colorado grassland. Jonas Hopper had spent his vast fortune buying the land and enclosing it with a sturdy, tiger-proof fence and interior ditch. Hunter also knew that Kat’s Crest imported prey for the tigers to hunt so that they experienced the most authentic, fulfilling lives possible at a sanctuary. Hunter was confident that the refuge was the best option for his own special needs. As the privileged heir of an Alabama ice cream tycoon, he’d never thought he’d move from the South, much less consider a permanent relocation to rural Colorado. Things change, however, as he’d learned only too well.

  Hunter watched as Faline escorted her friends to her back porch and hugged each of them warmly. “Thank you so much, all of you,” she sang out. “You’ve hung in there with Kat’s Crest during the hard times, and I love you for it. Mick, I’m thinking that we should get a shipment of nice, plump young boars for our tigers—what do you say?” Hunter could hear her joy in each word she spoke.

  Hunter felt battered and exhausted, but much like the Kat’s Crest staff, he was giddy with relief. His ordeal was over, thank God, and perhaps now, at long last, he had a future that wasn’t behind bars. He waited until Mick, Sabrina and Paul had pulled out of the driveway before he made his presence known.

  Faline threw the door open when he knocked. Hunter guessed by her wide smile that she’d assumed that one of her workers had returned. “Oh, hi,” she said, her buoyant smile replaced by a slightly abashed expression. “Hunter, right? Come on in.”

  He nodded, running his eyes up and down her slim figure. Still in her sweatpants and hot pink tank top, Faline’s body was athletic, toned and lushly curved, and her hair was a tantalising blonde mop of bedheaded perfection. How many days had he gone without being around a beautiful woman? The hag had made his captivity seem like years, but it had been only a matter of weeks. Still, the way the thin ribbed cotton hugged the toned curve of her belly and the tender undersides of her breasts made him want to pounce on her and rip every shred of clothing from her body.

  Clearing his throat, Hunter answered with a lopsided grin. “Yes, indeed. I slipped out while you were resting, but I’d like to talk with you about a possible position.” He suppressed a chuckle. I’d like to talk about having you positioned on your stomach with your legs spread wide…

  “Oh, yes,” Faline answered. “Honestly, hiring someone new hasn’t been a remote possibility for some time, but it seems our situation has changed a great deal.” Her hazel eyes sparkled. “What sort of position were you considering?”

  “Oh, I’m open to just about anything,” Hunter replied. “But I’ve had more than my fair share of dealings with tigers. I feel that I have a unique understanding of them.” The scream of a soaring hawk drew his attention to the window. “Be dark pretty soon,” he noted. “Guess those tigers will be up and about, huh?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Faline answered. “They hunt at night.” Hunter felt her gaze on him and knew that she was both intrigued and wary about the stranger in her home.

  “I don’t need any money, so you don’t need to worry about that. I’d just like to volunteer my services and let you decide how best to use me.” Hunter let his eyes wander down to her slim, tanned neck. She looked so vulnerable and sweet. He imagined that she’d taste of honey and salt. He wondered if she was even stronger than she looked—would she enjoy grappling with him while they made love? That could be, he thought, incredibly fun. His cock began to swell and stiffen inside the coarse fabric of his blue jeans.

  “I will need somewhere to stay, though,” he murmured, and took a step towards her. “Maybe we can work something out between us.”

  “Oh, um,” Faline stammered and licked her lips. “We could talk about your options, I suppose. I’d say I probably do have a place for you, now that you mention it, seeing as you’re comfortable with tigers.”

  “I don’t know if ‘comfortable’ is the right word.” He took his hand in hers and brought it to his lips. “‘Experienced’ is better, I think. I’d say I’m pretty experienced.” He pressed his lips to her knuckles and watched for her reaction. “Would you say that you’re experienced, too, Faline?”

  Faline exhaled and leaned towards him. “I guess so. That is, I’d like to think so—” she began, but Hunter had had more than enough of waiting. Endless days and nights in the company of the witch, with no idea how he’d ever find his freedom, had made him reckless, ravenous and desperate. He stopped her mouth with a kiss and flicked his tongue between her open lips, then ran his hands down her sides and felt the subtle ridges of her ribs beneath her skin.

  “Is this okay?” he murmured, trailing the wet tip of his tongue down her neck. “I won’t hurt you. You’re just so beautiful, Faline. Irresistible.” She nodded once in assent. With gentle pressure, he positioned her with her back to the wall. Hunter yanked the front of her sweatpants down beneath her stomach and slipped one hand beneath the waistband. Faline, eyes wide, stiffened in protest and grabbed his hand.

  Hunter found her lips with his and gave her soft, unhurried kisses. Her tense body grew supple in his arms and her grip loosened. With a growl of satisfaction, Hunter worked his fingers down her smooth belly once more. “No panties?” he whispered against her cheek. “I like it.”

  Hunter parted her lower lips and found slippery heat within. With his other hand, he tugged the strap of her tank top down to her elbow to expose her breast. Her nipple was rosy-pink and puckered, just begging for his mouth. How could he possibly say no? Hunter glanced briefly at Faline’s expression—her eyes were closed in arousal—before lowering his face to the pale curve of her tit. Faline moaned when he pulled the hard bud of her nipple into his mouth and pushed his fingers into her sheath.

  She was wet, soaking and clearly every bit as turned on as he was. He unbutton
ed the fly of his jeans and freed his hardened shaft. “Touch it, Faline,” he said. “Please.” Faline wrapped her fingers around his tight flesh. A shiny drop of pre-cum escaped and ran onto the skin of her finger. Hunter covered her hand with his and moved it over his erection, spreading the warm, clear stuff over its rounded tip. He whirled his tongue in the outer curve of her ear and breathed, “Oh, fuck, Faline, that feels so damn good.” Gripping her hand as it wrapped around his shaft, he eased the tip between her parted thighs. He heard Faline’s sharp intake of breath when he nudged it against her entrance.

  Hunter paused and slowly slid his tongue into the centre of her ear. The muscles of her cunt contracted and a fresh surge of her moisture coated the head of his cock. He spread her knees and began to slide his aching shaft inside her.

  Faline’s eyes flew open.

  What the fuck was going on?

  She shoved Hunter away from her and watched him lose his balance and slam to the floor. He looked shocked and out of breath—which was only fair, she figured, since she felt exactly the same way. His erection sprang up from his groin, looking somewhat indignant.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I barely know you,” Faline sputtered, “and I’ll grant that it’s been a pretty amazing day, but I’m still not up for doing it with someone I just met, especially unprotected.” She pulled the strap of her top up onto her shoulder and yanked her pants back up to her waist. “You seem like a nice guy and you’re, um, easy on the eyes,” Faline stole a quick glance at the lusciously thick organ below his waist, “but I’m just not that kind of girl.”

  “Not that kind of girl!” Hunter snorted. “Bullshit! You were just as into it as I was, Faline!”

  “Maybe so,” she countered, “but at least I knew enough to stop!” She crossed her arms defiantly. “We’re not animals, after all. We don’t just do it with total strangers in our living rooms.”

  Hunter scrambled to his feet and took a step towards her. His face was flushed and his pupils so dilated that only a faint tinge of warm brown remained. “I beg to differ, Faline,” he said darkly. “I am an animal, through and through, same as you.”

  Faline knew she should run to her bedroom and lock the door to keep this madman away, but damn he looked as tempting as sin. His stiffened cock, still shiny from their mingled fluids, pointed straight at her and seemed to beckon. She stared at it hungrily and wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees and stuff her mouth with it.

  Framed by the orange glow of pre-dusk in the window behind him, Hunter looked like a hardened coal in the middle of a fire. “These last few months have been a terrible time for you, Faline,” he said quietly, “and I’m sorry about that. But you can relax now and do what comes naturally.” He lifted the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, exposing his ridged belly and muscled chest. Grinning, he lowered one hand to his still-erect shaft and pumped it slowly in his fist. “If, that is, you want to.”

  Cocky much? Faline wondered. She was tempted to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to tear them away from the sight of him. She wondered what his bare stomach, with its soft dusting of brown hair, would feel like on top of hers, and what that gorgeously thick shaft would feel like if it were buried inside her.

  Faline’s face flushed and her nipples tightened. Oh, hell, she thought. It’s been a shitty six months, and this looks like just the strong drink I need to take the edge off.

  She grabbed his discarded T-shirt from the floor and wadded it into a makeshift cushion for her knees, then dropped down in front of him to taste what he offered. Faline slid one hand between his lightly furred thighs and placed the other on the curve of his rump. She let the glistening tip of his cock bump against her face and slide across her cheek. Above her, a low growl escaped his throat. Glancing up, she saw his chin dropped to his chest, his eyes closed and a halo of waning sunlight around the messy brown curls of his head.

  Faline traced her fingertips over his inner thigh and scraped the delicate skin of his ball sac lightly with her nails before taking his thickness in her hand. “Fabulous,” she murmured, swirling her tongue over the swollen, stiff head.

  Hunter worked his fingers into her tangled blonde locks and massaged her scalp. Faline made a plump ‘O’ with her lips and eased him inside, taking time to savour his length in decadently small increments. Salivating, she felt him grow thicker and harder as she sucked. She let saliva pool in her mouth, then gripped his slim hips and used them to guide his shaft in a smooth, even rhythm.

  “That’s so good,” he encouraged. Faline smiled and slid her hands down the curve of his rear to squeeze his taut upper thighs. It was odd—they seemed much hairier than she’d have expected. She suckled on the rounded knob of his shaft then paused, confused. There was a small, sharp nub that she hadn’t noticed before. Did he have a piercing on the end of his penis? That must have hurt like a son of a bitch.

  Suddenly, Hunter grunted, pulling her hair before releasing it, and let out a long, feral moan. Faline looked up in alarm, but he had jerked away from her and was in a deep crouch, staring at the advancing dusk through the kitchen window.

  Hunter kicked his bare feet clear of his jeans and shoes so that he was entirely nude and much, much hairier than Faline remembered—and…striped? He scooped up his backpack and sprinted from the room. Faline stumbled after him onto her back porch just in time to watch him scramble up the wall of the perimeter and over the top. He tumbled into the deep ditch on the inside of the fence and emerged on his hands and knees.

  Faline ran through her backyard and faltered in the weakening light. As blackness settled over Kat’s Crest Refuge, she caught a last glimpse of Hunter crawling swiftly over the uneven ground before he disappeared into the night.

  In the distance, she heard the furious roar of a male tiger.

  Chapter Three

  “Fuck!” Faline shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She scrubbed her fingers over her scalp and tried to think. There were eleven adult tigers on the refuge, all of which had serious issues about their personal space. It was night now, which meant that those tigers were completely alert. They would be busy hunting for food, protecting their cubs and reinforcing their claims on their territories. Because they were free-range tigers, they didn’t view humans as their keepers or their bosses or their friends.

  They viewed them as potential prey.

  And there was Hunter, totally nude and running into their midst. Clearly, he had some mental problems to work out, but Faline would have to worry about that later. A psychiatrist couldn’t do much to help a man who’d been mauled and killed by tigers. First things first.

  Because the Jeeps had been totalled in the storm and she’d sold Jonas’ Range Rover shortly after his death, Faline had been left without a car to travel about within the sanctuary’s confines. On foot, she wouldn’t make it far over the bumpy landscape, so that left her with just one choice.

  Faline yanked on her cowboy boots and pulled on a tough canvas jacket. She stuffed a flashlight, two bottles of water, and a handful of granola bars into her backpack. Then she opened the gun safe and pulled out her tranquiliser pistol. Faline made sure it was loaded, pushed the safety button and slipped it into her holster. For good measure, she grabbed a handful of spare darts. She added Hunter’s jeans, boots and T-shirt to her pack. Chances were good that he’d want to wear clothes again at some point, after all.

  She considered texting Mick to let him know what had happened, but didn’t want to take the time to push the buttons on her phone. For all she knew, Hunter was being stalked by Khan at this very moment.

  Panicked, Faline burst through her back door and raced to the small shed next to her house. Half a minute later, she rode out on the back of her motorised dirt bike. She drove to the gate of the sanctuary, unlocked it and let herself in. A quick click of the lock and it was done. She was inside the tiger sanctuary with nothing between her and a bunch of untamed tigers but the cool Colorado air. She eased the dirt bike down the de
ep ditch next to the fence and up the other side.

  The dirt bike bounced over the bumpy moonlit terrain, and Faline squinted as she searched for Hunter. It figures that someone that hot had to have something major wrong with him, she thought grimly.

  The headlight could have provided illumination, but Faline decided to keep it off for the time being. She remembered how her friend’s cat used to chase the red dot from a laser pointer and shuddered. All she needed was a tiger thinking that she was a jumbo-sized wind-up toy and pouncing on her. Her adrenaline surged and she increased her speed.

  Faline wondered how in the world she would find Hunter. It was madness. The sanctuary comprised a hundred and fifty square miles of land. She had an auxiliary gas tank for the bike, but even so, she wouldn’t come close to executing a thorough manhunt, especially at night. Hunter could have run in any direction, although he couldn’t have got far in bare feet. Faline decided to head for an outcropping of rock to the northwest. Hawkbill Point was as likely a destination for Hunter as any, and it would provide some cover for her if she hadn’t found him by then.

  Faline’s frenzied panic began to ebb as she made her way towards the rocky mound. The dirt bike’s tyres dug into the grasslands with ease and Faline dared to go even faster. The land, softened by low vegetation, stretched out on either side of her. A startled family of whitetail deer crossed her path and raced away in search of cover. The doe and her three fawns were gone in a flash, but Faline knew that one or more would likely meet their deaths between the deadly jaws of a tiger.

  Although it had initially pained her to think of the prey animals they imported being eaten by the tigers, Faline accepted that it was a fact of life. Allowing the tigers to hunt their own food was an integral part of Kat’s Crest’s ideology. As Jonas has said, humans should visit the tigers in their wild world and not force them to live in our tame one.