by Jane Jamison
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not healing like I should.”
“Like you should?” She hated to see anyone in pain, even a jerk like her father. “Lift up your shirt and let me see.” Once she had his wound taken care of, she’d force him to leave. Even a rabid dog deserved medical attention.
Carefully, he lifted the material, pulling it away from the sticky blood. She drew close enough to get a good look at the wound, but not close enough for him to grab her. “You’ve been shot.”
“No shit, Sherlock. Now get to work and help your old man.”
She backed away. Getting shot changed everything. “No. People don’t get shot for no reason. You need to get out of my house right now. I don’t want to be involved in whatever you’ve done.”
“The fuck I will.” He pushed back to a sitting position and glared at her. His eyes changed, losing their dark color.
Gasping, she backed up even farther. His amber eyes glowed at her. Sharp, vicious fangs sprang out as he drew his lips into a snarl.
“Shit.”
“You see what I am, girl? I can tear you apart. Now get to work on my wound.”
As she watched, the wound seemed to grow smaller, the skin appearing to close over the raw, bloody gap in his skin. But the healing didn’t enclose all of his skin.
“See? I can’t heal all the way. I need you to stitch me up.”
“No.”
His growl rumbled out of him. “You’ll do it, or you’ll wish you had.” He twisted his head and snarled, the transformation starting.
She stared hard. In some ways, he reminded her of Foster as he changed. Yet there were differences. The shape of the ears was smaller, the eyes rounder. Soft white hair interspersed with black lines spread along his jaw then around his neck. He wasn’t a werewolf. “What are you?”
“Stupid fat bitch. I’m a fucking tiger, dumbass.”
His words were muffled and contorted by his fangs, but he’d called her those names too many times for her to not understand him. Anger filled her, bolstering her determination not to give in to him. “Get out. Now.” She pointed at the door and stood her ground.
Another louder, more awful growl came as his shift continued. The transformation, taking his body from human to cat, shredded his clothes.
Fear replaced anger as the man who was her father became a white tiger. Turning, she tried to escape through the front door, but a huge paw caught her by the foot and dragged her back inside.
“No!” She kicked at the monstrous beast with her free foot as she twisted her body around and dug her fingernails into the carpet.
The fury in his amber eyes, the deep rumble of his growls, had panic taking charge. She screamed, sure she would die in the next moment.
More growls erupted, the bellowing sounds bouncing off the walls. Dark forms raced past her. The tiger’s growls were lost in the sound of howls. All at once, her father turned her foot free. She crawled away, trying to get to her feet, but her legs wouldn’t obey her. Instead, she made it to the wall and flattened her back against it.
Three wolves formed a semi-circle around her father. She recognized one of them as being Foster. The other two had to be Scott and Billy. Just like Foster, they were magnificent creatures, their fur standing on end as they faced down the large tiger. Amber flamed in all their eyes, and fangs dripped saliva as they hunkered down, tails low, ready to launch their bodies at the cat.
“Stop, Dad. You can’t get away.”
The tiger turned his head toward her and snarled. She couldn’t have understood him any better if he’d spoken in his human form. He was telling her to go fuck herself.
“They’ll let you leave if you go right now.” She owed him nothing, but she had to try. If the wolves attacked, he’d have little to no chance of getting away. If he attacked them, they’d tear him apart, but he’d fight them with everything he had. Either way, the men she loved would get hurt.
The one thing she didn’t expect him to do was to attack her again.
Leaping over one of the wolves, the tiger threw his body at her. She screamed, the sound mixing with his terrifying screech. Closing her eyes, she readied herself for the pain as his claws raked into her flesh and his fangs sank into her throat.
The roar of the fight came again, but the pain never did. She opened her eyes, fearful of what she’d find. The wolves were on top of the cat. They showed him no mercy as they drove their claws and fangs into him. He hissed, twisting his body trying to get free, but it was no use.
As much as she wanted to shout for them to stop, she couldn’t. His hate-filled amber gaze met hers, stilling her voice. Blood flew everywhere as the wolves tore at him. His struggles lessened but he never took his eyes from her. Spittle ran out the side of his mouth as his tongue slipped out and the eyes dulled.
As quickly as the fight had begun, it was over. The only noises were the pants of the wolves and the sucks of air she labored to bring in.
Foster was the first to change back into his human body. He hurried to her side but didn’t touch her. Blood was splattered over him. “Are you all right, darlin’?”
“No.” Would she ever be all right again? “You killed my father.” She stared, her mind not working right as Scott and Billy transformed, going back to the men she loved.
“We killed the tiger that attacked you.” Billy stood tall, his body, like Foster’s and Scott’s, covered with their blood as well as the tiger’s.
“He was a tiger, But how? I never…”
“I don’t know, honey. He could’ve been changed since you saw him last. We may never know.”
“The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.” Foster touched her cheek.
The men’s wounds started healing, leaving dried blood behind. She frowned, confused as the tiger slowly shifted back, leaving her father lying in its place. “How are you healing? He was shot, and he wasn’t healing.”
Billy knelt in front of her and blocked her view of her father. “That’s the tiger I shot. The wound was deeper than ours. It takes—” He paused, his expression solemn. “It would’ve taken more time to heal.”
Scott disappeared into the small bathroom next to the living room and returned with moistened towels. He handed his friends one each then offered her one. When she refused it with a quick shake of her head, he started wiping her face, cleaning it of splattered blood.
Was it her father’s blood on her? Or the men’s?
“I’ll be right back.” Foster went out the door. When he returned, he had their clothes, torn apart by their transformations, and handed them to Scott and Billy. “Get dressed. I called Drake Hardwick and Quinn Mallory. I’ll bet anything he was the rogue tiger killing the livestock. He killed a few more last night. We’ll let them handle it from here on out.”
Betsy closed her eyes, her mind swirling, unable to focus on one thing for more than a few moments.
“Come with us, baby. We’ll take care of you.”
The sound of Scott’s voice comforted her. In her search to find something to hold on to, Betsy grabbed at the offer. Strong hands lifted her and took her away from the horror.
Chapter Nine
“It’s all taken care of. We may have to go to a joint meeting of the pride and the clan, but Drake doesn’t think they’ll question what went down.”
Betsy didn’t answer Foster. Instead, she continued to look out over the pasture in back of the men’s home. Instead of making her wait for Drake Hardwick and Quinn Mallory to show up at her rental home, Billy and Scott had gently taken her to their pickup and placed her inside. She’d been numb, only now slowly coming out of the fog her father’s death had put her in.
Seeing Foster take a seat on the porch steps next to her, Billy and Scott wrapped the reins of their horses around the hitching post outside the barn and strode over to join them.
“It’s done.”
Done. Like a roast cooking in the oven.
A giggle, hysterical enough to make them s
tare hard at her, escaped. Although she felt awful about her father dying, she’d had a difficult time feeling any kind of grief. As far as she was concerned, she’d never really had a father. At least not one she wanted to mourn.
“Darlin’, you need to tell us what to do about your father’s body.” Foster’s tone was gentle, as though he were speaking to a small child.
“I don’t care.”
Silence followed her declaration, but she didn’t care if they thought her callous and uncaring. She wanted nothing more to do with the man who’d never loved her. The man who had, in fact, barely cared enough to keep a roof over her head and food on the table. Her mother had taken on those responsibilities yet had never been able to stand up against him when he’d railed at her daughter and taught her to hate herself. Later, when her mother had gotten sick, her father had barely kept a roof over their heads.
“Do you want the pride to handle disposal of the body?”
She turned her attention to Foster. “I told you. I don’t care. Do whatever you want with it.”
“Baby, I know he treated you like hell, but he was still your father. You might regret not doing something later on.”
Scott was right. Her mother would have wanted her to give her father a decent burial. Was it awful that she didn’t care what they did with her father’s body? Yet, she couldn’t force herself to care. Relief was the only emotion she felt. “Then I’ll send his body home and have it buried in the cemetery. But not next to my mother’s grave. He doesn’t deserve to be near her. If I can’t do that, then let the pride have him.”
“Okay, honey. Whatever you say. We’ll take care of everything.”
They stayed with her, speaking only when necessary. Instead, they gave her more than any words could give her. They gave her unconditional support and the silent promise to always be by her side.
Slowly, as minutes turned into hours, she let the past go. Her father was dead and would never bother her again. She had her entire life ahead of her. “I’m worn out and going to bed.”
“Okay, darlin’. We’re here if you need us.”
“I know.” They’d earned not only her love but her trust. Still, she wanted time alone. Knowing her relief would fade soon enough, she had to prepare for the onslaught of other emotions headed her way. When those feelings came, she’d call the men, once more being a strong enough woman to allow them to support her.
* * * *
Betsy watched Scott, Billy, and Foster as they walked, side by side, toward the house. Since moving to the ranch a few days earlier, she’d quickly learned their schedule. They were up before the sun was and out doing chores. When she finally made it back from the store, often after sunset, they were waiting for her. Billy had even started to cook meals for her, claiming that he’d become an “enlightened man.” At night, they’d left her alone in the largest bedroom, giving her the time she’d needed to get past her father’s attack and death. As much as her father had hurt her, she’d finally realized that she’d still needed to mourn him.
But today was different. Today she’d gotten out of bed, thankful it was Sunday and the store was closed. There was still work to be done, but she deserved a day off.
A day she intended to enjoy with every breath she took.
They were joking around, saying something about Billy looking at the tail end of one of the cows too long when they entered through the front door. When they saw her, they came to an abrupt stop.
“Whoa.” Billy’s eyes grew wide.
“You can say that again.” Scott grinned as his gaze skimmed over her from top to bottom then made the trek back up. “You look amazing, baby.”
“What do you think, darlin’?” she asked, mimicking Foster.
“I think I could eat you up.” Flecks of amber sparked to life in his eyes.
She’d learned that having their inner wolves rise closer to the surface wasn’t the only way to bring the amber there. “I was hoping you’d say so.”
Pulling the tie at the neck of the see-through negligée, she let the thin black material fall to her feet. They’d given her the confidence to stand naked in front of them, and she was repaying them by doing it again. “First one to the bed gets to lick me wherever he wants.”
She took off, bolting up the steps. They’d catch her, if they wanted, but she had a feeling that they liked the chase. Down the hallway she ran, bursting the French doors open hard enough to bang against the walls.
She raced to the end of the bed then swung around and held up her hand. “Stop.”
The three of them had gotten undressed as they ran. That and wanting to let her beat them to the bedroom had slowed them down. She repeated what Billy had said, “Whoa.”
“If you like what you see, why are we stopping?”
She thrust her hand out again at Billy. “Because I want to do a little test first.”
“A test? What kind of a test?” Scott crossed his arms, showing off the powerful muscles in his arms and chest.
“I want to see if you taste like each other.”
“Huh? I don’t get it.” Foster’s cock twitched, jerking to point toward her.
“Just stay where you are.” She pointed at them in warning. “And no touching. Not until I say so.”
“You’re going to torture us.”
She sashayed to stand in front of Billy. “No more than it’s going to torture me.” Giving him a seductive look, she slowly went to her knees.
“Now I get it. Oh shit yeah.”
Could he feel the smile on her face as she slid his cock into her mouth? He gripped her hair, but she pushed his hands away and wagged her finger at him again. All without losing hold of his cock. Cupping his balls, she licked her way to the curly mass at the base. Her hand rested his balls in her palm as she did her best to memorize all his flavors.
How would she describe what she tasted? Sexy? Masculine? The musky scent of his package struck her nostrils, adding to the awareness of his sweet yet pungent flavor. She moaned, loving how easily her tongue slid over and around his length.
“This is driving me crazy. My turn, baby,” demanded Scott.
She eased Billy’s cock out then wiped her mouth. “Yum.”
“Taste mine. I’ll bet I taste better.”
Scott’s look was filled with the same craving that was tearing up her insides. “We’ll see about that.”
“Like hell you will.” Billy took his cock in hand and began pumping. His focus, however, never left her.
Opening wide, she drew Scott’s cock into her mouth. Familiar flavors hit her. He tasted a lot like his friend. There was the sexiness of him, the muskiness, and a tang that was all his own. She dragged on his dick, sucking hard to not miss a drop of his sweet pre-cum. He, too, tried to take hold of her hair, but she pushed his hands away. Not letting them touch her was half the fun. Whipping her tongue around his cock, she once more compared the taste of Scott’s cock to Billy’s. “Also yum.”
She waited as Foster took Scott’s place. Playing with his balls earned her a moan, but Foster managed to keep his hands to himself.
“Saving the best for last, darlin’?”
Foster’s boast brought on denials from his friends. “We’ll see.” Keeping her gaze up, she met his eyes and took his cock. She loved seeing his expression the moment her mouth surrounded his length. Again, he tasted like his friends but also different. Sexy. Musky. Sweet. Tangy. Yet with a wild edge to it similar to Billy’s and Scott’s. Still, the taste varied enough that she could tell the difference. She gave his cock the attention she’d given the other men’s then leaned back and wiped her lips.
“I’m going to close my eyes. You three decide who goes first and who goes last, but don’t give me any hints.” She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and waited.
She knew as soon as he put his cock inside her mouth that it was Scott. Giving his cock a couple of good licks, she sucked her way from the base to the tip and turned him loose with a satisfying pop. “Scott.”
“You’re right. Do I win a prize?”
“Because I guessed correctly, you win a prize?” She kept her eyes closed. “Fine. Maybe when the test is over. Next.”
Again, it was easy to tell whose cock it was. She would’ve known Foster’s taste from a thousand others. Playing with his balls for the fun of it, she turned him loose and gave her answer. “Foster.”
“You’re right, darlin’.” He chuckled. “I guess there’s no need to taste Billy’s since he’s the only one left.”
“Hey, man. That’s a low blow.”
She laughed at Billy’s complaint. “Sure there is. You could trick me and try to substitute another one for his. Give it to me, Billy.” Again, she opened her mouth wide and allowed the man to ease his cock inside her. She didn’t bother playing coy. Instead, she told them what she knew. “Yep. That’s Billy, all right.”
“Now it’s our turn to do a test.”
She opened her eyes to find Scott gazing down at her. “What kind of test?”
“A test to see if you can handle all three of us at the same time.”
“Haven’t I already had that test and passed?”
“You have?” His eye glinted with humor. “I don’t know. Guess you’ll just have to take the test again.” He picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. “On your knees, mate.”
It was the first time any of them had called her mate. Something about the word evoked primal urges that spun their way outward from her core. She was their mate, their lover, and their friend. And they were the same to her. More, even, they were her protectors.
The bed tipped as Scott got behind her. His cock pressed at her dark hole, demanding entrance. What else was she to do except let him in?
Taking hold of her hip, he slid his fingers into the puckered darkness. She flinched then pushed back, showing she was more than ready for him.
Laughing, Billy fell backwards onto the bed and scooted under her. He played with her hanging breasts for a moment then twisted around to put his face to her pussy. She flinched yet again then moaned as his tongue found her warm wetness. He had a tongue any woman would die for, and he used it masterfully.