by T. S. Joyce
And then there was his rough beard against her neck. One second of that, and then there was pain, a sharp, driving ache at the curve where her neck met her shoulder. It was quick and shocking, and her orgasm pulsed harder when she realized what he’d done.
Claiming mark. Holy. Shit. Torren had just claimed her. He’d marked her so the whole world knew she belonged to HavoK. That she belonged to the new Kong. He’d just picked a mate, and this scar was a subtle fuck-you to any gorilla who tried to make him the head of a family group.
He’d picked her instead.
She wanted to cry out his name, just cry and scream in relief, hug him for years, and then have sex again right away, and…and…and…
Torren cupped her head again and lifted her quick, pressed her face against his throat, begging in silence while his dick still pulsed inside of her, filling her with warmth.
She made the mark quick. He’d bled enough today and she didn’t want to shred him, but her tiger wouldn’t let it be a light mark either. She tore his skin right at a blank space in his tattoos so everyone could see it. She made it deep and rough so it would hopefully heal red and angry-looking, so the people who kept coming after him for the throne could see he didn’t belong to the gorillas. He belonged to a rogue tiger who would always have his back, stalking anyone who messed with him. Her claws were his, just like his fists belonged to her. Her teeth were his too, and right now they were the weapon that would tell the world he wasn’t up for grabs.
She released his skin and licked the blood off him because the tiger inside of her required that. She needed to clean him, so she did. Over and over until their orgasms had faded to nothing. Until he relaxed into her animalistic affection. Until he was petting his fingertips down her ribs in comforting strokes. Until his skin fused together and stopped bleeding completely.
And then he finished his part of the promise. Easing back, he cupped her cheek and searched her eyes as he murmured, “I’m not running. I’m here.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose…her lips. “I’m right here.”
Chapter Ten
“This is the most sparkly thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Torren said, handing her the black sequined duffle bag he’d retrieved from his car.
She always carried extra clothes in her Jem’s bag. “Stop looking at it like it’s a bug. The bag is so cool. You’re about to have your mind blown. Look.” When she wiped her hand the opposite way of the sequins, the black sparkles turned pink, her favorite color combination.
“Whoa!” Torren ran his oversize hand down the side of her bag and marveled at the color-change. “It’s like a chameleon bag.”
“I have shorts that do the same thing. They’re purple and black.”
“Mmmmm,” he rumbled with a wicked smile. “I’m gonna make you put those on and I’m gonna play with your butt. And your puss—”
“Ew! Don’t say that word.”
“That’s what it is! What do you want me to call it?”
“Lady bits.”
“Veto.”
“Vagimjam.”
“Also veto.” Torren was trying to look severe but a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Tuna wallet.”
He snorted but his eyes were dancing. “Stop.”
She was giggling now though, and didn’t want to stop. “Sausage—”
“No.”
“Sausage cave.” Cracking up, arms thrown around her middle, she said, “Pink pouch.”
“You’re fired. You’re not my manager anymore,” he said, walking away.
“Wait! I don’t have shoes,” she rushed out, struggling into a pair of jeans and a skintight white sweater. It was cold, and snow was raining down from the holes in the roof of the sawmill. “Carry me,” she said, arching her eyebrows.
“Woman, you ain’t helpless, but I’m gonna do this because I want an excuse to smoosh your sexy body against mine again.” He jogged back and gave her his back, bent slightly, and allowed her to climb on him like a koala. “Here, let me have the bag,” he murmured, taking it from her. “God, your toes are so little and cute. Next time paint your nails blue.”
“Favorite color?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t have money for a pedicure.”
“Chhh, I’ll paint them then.”
She tensed on his back in excitement. “You will?” she asked loud right next to his ear. He hunched and rumbled a growl. In a whisper scream she repeated, “You will?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“I don’t know. You’re this big, badass, tatted-up king silverback brawler.”
“I also grew up with a sister who liked girly shit. She had trouble making friends because of the hearing impairment, so I was her best friend. I did whatever she wanted. Whatever made her happy. I’ve had practice painting nails.”
“I think that’s the sweetest and sexiest story I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?” he asked, stepping carefully through the rubble.
“Yeah. Why did Vyr write HavoK on the sign? That could get you in trouble if the cops come out here. Everyone knows you’re HavoK.”
“Uhhhh, because this sawmill is mine. Technically.”
“What?” she asked, too loud again.
“Vyr bought this place years ago. He was losing control more and more, and he hoped if he picked some mountains, his dragon would see it as his treasure and settle down. When he bought this place, part of his decision to claim territory here was the sawmill right on the edge of the property. I grew up in lumber country.”
“You were a lumberjack?”
Torren chuckled. “Yep. In the cold months when I was a teenager, I was up there with the crews, learning my way around the occupation. The manual labor was good for my animal. It kept me tired. But when the fire season came, logging shut down. It’s too dangerous to have the machines up there when it’s that dry and hot. One spark from the equipment could devastate the area with fire. My dad owned a sawmill in Saratoga, and that’s where I worked when I wasn’t logging. Vyr wanted to give me a future. He didn’t realize the toll on my silverback for being the new Kong , and he thought I would have more time, so he bought this place for me to fix up and start my own business. Do what I know. What makes me happy.”
“Logging would make you happy?”
“Stop, Candace. This place isn’t my future. My future is ashes and fire. Best you accept that now. I’m devoted to you until the end, but that end will come up fast.”
“You stop! Don’t talk like that.” She scrambled off his back and winced when she stepped on rubble and lost her balance. Righting herself, she shoved him in the back. The oaf didn’t even move. She could’ve blown a breath on him for all the effect her push had. “You don’t claim a girl and say ‘Sorry, you’ve got three and a half days with me, better enjoy it.’ Screw that. Try harder. Try for Vyr and for Nox and Nevada. Try for your sister and your parents. Try for the crew. But selfishly, try for me. I don’t want you to leave. I’m going to make you stay.”
“You can’t save me, Candace.”
“I didn’t offer to save you. You can save yourself, just like I can save myself. But I’m not going anywhere, so if you want to give up and get dragged down to Hell, you’ll drag me with you.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You won’t have a choice because I’ll be tucked against your ribs with my claws dug in. Plus, if you die, it’ll hurt me. I don’t mean I’ll just be sad. We’re paired up, and if you go down, I’ll go with you now. You’re mine,” she said, poking a middle finger against his chest. Ouch. “HavoK is mine. Stick around.”
“For what?”
“For a family group with me.”
Torren’s face went completely slack. “W-what?”
“That’s what you need, right? A family group?” Candace held her arms out. “Family group of one. Someday you’ll make us more.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someday you’re gonna put a little baby in
me. Years from now when we’re ready. When you’re steady. When you want to see a little baby in my arms, you’ll grow our family group. And Vyr and Nox and Nevada will be part of it.”
“That’s not how family groups work. It’s gorillas only.”
“I don’t care. You’re different, Torren. I’m different. Your crew? The Sons of Beasts? They’re different. It’s not going to look like it would’ve if you were sitting on the throne of the gorillas. It’s going to look better to people like us.”
“You…” Torren frowned. “You want a baby with me?”
“Yes. Someday, when you’re ready, I want you to put a baby in me. I don’t care if she’s tiger or gorilla. We’re gonna keep you steady. I’m not going to be a dancer forever, Torren. You came in at a bad chapter of my life. You won’t be a brawler forever. I came in at a bad chapter for you. Someday, things are gonna be different for you and me, but you have to fight until we get there. And I’ll fight with you because someday I do want the life you could give me. I want to see you holding our little baby girl.”
“You keep saying baby girl.”
“It’s just what I imagine when I get lonely. And before you, I was very lonely. I daydreamed about a little baby girl to take care of and give a better life than the one I have. I want to be close to her like my dad was close to me. I couldn’t imagine the father though, because I hadn’t found you.” She jammed her finger at the puncture scars on her neck. “You made bigger promises to me than you realized with this claiming mark.”
Torren’s wide-eyed gaze dipped to her neck, then to his arm as he held it out. His skin was covered in gooseflesh. It was cold out and he was in a T-shirt, but that man was a furnace. He wasn’t cold. He’d just been knocked off balance with her declarations.
She stomped her foot in the snow. “You don’t get to quit anymore. Now, you’re a mate, and someday you’ll be a dad. I’m gonna get you there, but you have to fight with me. No quitting. No quitters in this family group. Too many people need you.”
“I—” Torren’s voice cracked. He dipped his gaze to the snow and hooked his hands on his hips before he swallowed audibly and tried again. “I would like a baby girl. Someday. A tiger with thin stripes. Orange. Pretty little girl like her momma.”
She huffed out a half-laugh, half-sob. He’d just said yes to a family someday. Her face crumpled, and a warm tear trickled down to her jawline. This was something she’d yearned for her whole life. Thickly, she demanded, “Then fight. I like HavoK the way he is. He’s a wrecking ball. That’s fine. It’s up to you to figure out how to let him out and remain sane. For me. For Vyr. For your family back in Damon’s Mountains, and Nox and Nevada and that silly, horny swan, and someday, for a little tiger cub with tiny stripes who looks at you like you hung the moon.” She shrugged one shoulder up. “Hang the moon, Torren.”
“Jesus, woman,” he murmured, running his hands through his hair and linking his hands behind his head. “Who’s the real wrecking ball? Did you just change the entire path of my life?”
“Get used to it, ya monster. You didn’t pick a girl who will sit aside and lose you.”
“Clearly. I picked a make-shit-happen girl instead. Gonna make me work.”
“I’m high maintenance,” she said cheekily.
“Chhh, you don’t have to tell me. I know. Got me holding a damn sparkle bag and carrying you over rubble and claiming you and talking future babies.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“Good. Geez.” Torren held his arms out to her. “I’m suddenly hungry enough to eat like six steaks. You stress me out.”
She giggled as she melted into the safety of his arms. The man was warm as a campfire, and she snuggled close against his chest. “You eat meat when you’re stressed. Perfect man.”
Torren snorted. “I like how I can literally have any reaction, and even if it’s weird, you just roll with it.”
“You aren’t weird to me. I understand you. I could go for a steak, too.” She rolled her head back and grinned up at him. “Stripping makes me hungry.”
Torren belted out laughter and hugged her closer. “Not Changing into a badass tiger and fighting a silverback for your man? That’s not what made you hungry? It’s the stripping part?”
“Yep!”
Torren shook his head and kissed the top of her hair, lingering there for a few seconds. “I like my life better with you in it. You make my insides feel less dark.”
“Good. Feed me.”
“High maintenance,” he teased her again. But the stunning smile on his face said he liked her just the way she was.
He pulled her by the hand across the parking lot. There was a thin layer of snow, and she looked behind them to see her small footprints next to the giant prints from his boots. She smiled to herself. He was so big next to her, his hand massive around hers, his dominance mountains bigger than hers, and yet she’d never felt safer. His hand was so warm and strong around hers, so steady. She wasn’t limping anymore. In fact, she felt completely fine after the fight. Sex with Torren had done wonders for her body. Magical monkey man. And a gentleman monkey because he opened the door to his old, black Camaro and waited for her to buckle up, a slight smile on his face as he watched her, like he thought she was beautiful. And when she clicked her seatbelt into place, he shut the door, made his way around the front of his car, and slid in behind the wheel.
“I like your car.” She complimented him as the engine roared to life.
“It was my dad’s. He gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. It’s old as dirt, but we kept working on it together, replacing parts, and someday, maybe, I’ll give it to our little hellion.”
She laughed because, yeah, look at them. A trained dancer turned stripper and a logger turned brawler. Their future kids were definitely going to be hellions.
The drive to Vyr’s mansion was short. Torren didn’t even ask if she wanted him to take her back to her car, still parked at Jem’s. He just drove her to his home. She liked that. He was taking her back to where he was comfortable, inviting her deeper into his life.
And as they crossed the river with the hidden roadway, she got excited. She wasn’t tired. Quite the opposite, she was energized from the night with Torren. And she knew it was silly, but she wanted to show Nevada, Nox, and even Vyr the claiming mark Torren had given her. She was proud, and who else would understand its meaning? Only the crew.
But when they pulled into the clearing, blazing red and blue police lights were illuminating the night.
“What the hell?” Torren growled, the steering wheel creaking under his grip.
“Torren, look,” she murmured in shock, pointing to the huge hole in the side of the mansion that was billowing smoke.
“Fuck. Vyr must’ve done it.”
She squinted at the officers standing near the two police cruisers. “Thank God. I know one of them. That’s Sheriff Thompson. He’s good. He helps at the club every time the guys get out of control, and he knows about the fox shifters. He pretends he doesn’t, but he does. He has protected the shifters from being outed in Foxburg. He’s pro-shifter and understanding. Look, he’s just talking to Vyr and Nox, not putting them in handcuffs.”
“What about that one?” Torren asked, jerking his chin at the tall truck of a man standing somberly beside Sheriff Thompson.
“I don’t know him. Maybe he’s new. Foxburg is a really small town, and the police force has only been three strong as long as I can remember.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about him.”
“Why not?”
“Look at his eyes.”
The man flashed them a look, and the headlights of Torren’s Camaro shone strangely in his eyes. They reflected like an animal’s.
“Shit,” she whispered. “Shifter. What does that mean?”
“Let’s go find out.” Torren threw the car into park on the circle drive. “Stay there.”
She’d learned from last time he wouldn’t make her stay out of this. But h
e liked to open doors for her. The man didn’t have money for fancy gifts, but he took care of her in the ways he could. In the ways that mattered. He made her feel like the queen he said she was.
He pulled open her door and offered his hand just like last time. Then he pulled her to his side and they walked across the snow-covered yard to face whatever was happening. Together.
Vyr looked pissed, his face strained and his eyes burning silver with elongated pupils. He was looking everywhere but at Candace, but she didn’t understand. Was his anger for her?
“What’s going on?” Torren asked in that growly voice that said HavoK was drawn up and ready to beat his chest and charge.
“Once upon a time,” Nox started, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he glared at the shifter cop, “a meteor blasted through the wall of Horace’s room and woke the whole house with the billowing smoke. And these fart nuggets came to investigate. On private land. When we didn’t call them for help.”
“First off,” the shifter cop growled. “I can hear all your lies. We know that’s Vyr Daye, and there was no meteor. The Red Dragon blasted a fireball through the wall of his own bedroom.”
“Hi, Sheriff Thompson,” Candace said sweetly. “Everything is fine, really. The boys will get a tarp over the hole and we’ll get to work on fixing it tomorrow. I’m sorry you had to come out here, but we’re all fine, as you can see.” Except where the hell was Nevada? Nox didn’t look worried so she forced herself not to worry either.
“Cinnamon—”
“Candace, please. I’m off work and ready to go to bed. It’s been a long night.”
Sheriff Thompson smiled understandingly. “I’m Officer Thompson now, and this is the new Sheriff of Foxburg, Sheriff—”
“Sheriff Hank Butts,” Nox interrupted. “I’ve nicknamed him Hanky Panky. You’re all welcome.”
Officer Thompson sighed and closed his eyes. He looked exhausted. “This is Hank Butte. He is the new Sheriff of Foxburg.”
“Wait, you were demoted?” Candace asked. She made an apologetic gesture to the giant shifter, who reeked of dominance and fur. Grizzly maybe? Big cat? “I mean, I’m sure you are good at this job, but Sheriff Thompson has been in charge of this town for a long time, and he’s very good.”