“No.” Carly jerked away from him, rising and taking away her warmth. “You’re not running out on me.”
“Keeping you safe,” Tiger said catching her wrist in his big hand. “I can run for days without stopping, I can live for days without food and sleep. You can’t.”
“But you can’t run forever,” Carly said. “The best thing to do is to hide in plain sight. As long as I can get my money in cash before we go, we can go anywhere. Mexico—I’ve always wanted a trip to Mazatlán, or Cabo. Once your neck heals, and if you hide your hair or dye it, we’ll fit right in. A young couple in a rental on a Baja beach. Sounds good to me.”
“It’s that easy to leave the country?” Tiger asked. He was skeptical. There were papers and cards for humans, and Shifters were forbidden international travel.
“They don’t pay much attention to a young woman hell-bent on shopping at every bazaar in a border town, or buying bikinis in Baja. You, Mr. Stealthy, can go cross-country when we get close enough to the border, and I’ll pick you up on the other side. Once we’re settled in Cabo, I’m sure I can find some enterprising person to make me a new ID.”
“You’d never be able to come back,” Tiger said. “Or see your family again. Taking a Shifter out of the country is illegal. You’d be arrested, maybe imprisoned.”
Tiger saw Carly’s indecision when he mentioned her family. The hope that had flickered within him for a few moments withered and died.
“I wouldn’t be taking you out,” Carly said. “Meeting you in a different country is a different thing.”
Tiger shook his head. “Too risky for you.” And for their cub.
Carly straightened and planted her hands on her hips. “Now, you listen to me, Tiger. I’m not letting you go.”
“I treasure you.” Tiger looked up into Carly’s eyes. “If the world changes, if Shifters are freed, then I’ll be back. I will always come back to you, my mate. No matter how long it takes.”
* * *
Damn him. Tiger sat there looking at her with those beautiful eyes, telling her he was leaving.
He couldn’t leave. She’d just found him.
Carly flashed back to the day she’d realized her father was never coming back. The pain, like a kick in the stomach, had flattened her for weeks. She’d gone to school in a daze, barely able to talk to anyone, unable to study or focus on homework. She’d started flunking her classes, which had made things worse; then had come the counseling.
Carly had struggled for years before she figured out how to go on living, how to push the anger and grief to the back of her mind so she could pay attention to what was in front of her.
“My dad left us when we were kids,” she said in a hard voice. “He left my mama and four teenage girls with no money and a mountain of debts. He just walked out.”
Tiger said nothing. His golden eyes fixed on her, and his hand around her wrist was warm. But he was still leaving.
“I agreed to marry Ethan because I thought he was safe,” Carly went on. “He wasn’t anything like my dad. Ethan wasn’t a wild drinker or a gambler, he brought home a paycheck, he owned a house, he didn’t have debts, and I knew he’d never walk out and leave me to solve his problems. Ethan prides himself on being Mr. Responsible. I was right about all that, but I was wrong about Ethan respecting me or truly caring about me.”
Carly leaned down to Tiger, her breath coming fast. “Then I met you. And I realized that all my life I’d been looking for safety. A good job, a nice place to live, friends I can trust, the right husband—anything to keep me from that feeling of falling with nothing to catch me.”
“But I’m not safe,” Tiger said. “Nothing about me is safe.”
“I know.” Carly started to laugh, but in a crazy way, not finding anything funny. “And wham, I realized that safety shouldn’t be the most important thing in my life.” She poked his chest. “You make me want to be wild and take chances and grab happiness while I have it. With Ethan I was content, and I admit, a little bit smug. But with you, I’m hot and happy, excited whenever I see you or hear your voice. You walk into a room, and I’m glad. When I woke up with you this morning, I knew it was the best morning of my life. I want more mornings like that, and I want each one to be even better than the last. I lost my dad, I lost the safety of marriage to Ethan, and for about the third time this week, I’ve probably lost my job. On top of it all, I sure as hell don’t want to lose you.”
Tiger watched her with the close stare of a predator. His tiger-striped hair was a mess, his face stubbled with whiskers and still marked with a few bruises from the accident. His black T-shirt under the flannel shirt was marked with sweat, his arms, exposed by pushed-up sleeves, corded with muscle dusted with golden hair.
He was absolutely nothing like the clean-cut, perfectly groomed man Carly was supposed to date, and then marry.
“You’ll never be safe if you stay with me,” Tiger said.
“And I say screw it.” Carly shook off his grasp but only to plop herself onto the slant of his lap. “I’m not going through my boring, safe life wondering whatever happened to you—wondering what would have happened to me if I’d grabbed you and held on to you with both hands. Don’t you get it, Tiger? I want you.”
Tiger kept looking at her. Whatever he was thinking or feeling, Carly had no idea, but she saw the emptiness behind his eyes. Her heart ached from his story of torture and terror, for his life of knowing nothing but anger and fear.
She leaned down to kiss him. Carly intended the kiss to be gentle, to show him how much she cared, but as soon as their lips touched, Tiger slid his strong hand behind her neck, and the kiss turned fierce.
Carly surrendered to his strength, letting his arms take her weight, as he slanted his mouth over hers, exploring, tasting. She ran her fingertips over the line where the false Collar had been, the ridge of skin already smoothing.
Tiger’s hand went to the back of her dress, tugging at the zipper. The little cap sleeves that just covered Carly’s shoulders came down quickly, Tiger’s hands warming her skin, the dress loosening.
Carly tilted her head back while Tiger kissed her neck then traveled down her throat with little nips. He pressed his mouth below the hollow of her throat as the dress eased down to reveal her breasts.
Carly had put on a lace and satin bra this morning, ivory to match the sheath dress Yvette had given her. She’d wanted to be pretty today, all the way to her skin. Tiger made her feel beautiful. Carly, who considered herself all lips and eyes, with a little too much curve on the bottom and not enough on top.
Tiger fumbled at the catch of her bra, but Carly was happy to reach back and release it for him. Last night, they’d been so crazed to make love to each other that they hadn’t gone slowly, hadn’t savored.
Tiger savored her now. He pushed Carly’s body upward so he could lick between her breasts, then tilted his head back to kiss her mouth as she gazed down at him.
“You are beautiful,” he said. “My mate.”
When he said mate, a warmth grew in her heart until it almost hurt. At the same time the warmth brought a flush of happiness, the like of which Carly had never felt before.
Tiger smiled, which made his eyes heat. “Do you see it? The mate bond?”
He moved his fingers to her breastbone, directly over the warmth. When Carly looked at him in confusion, not knowing what he was talking about, his smile grew.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I can see it. Like silver threads that bind us, my heart to yours.” He traced the air between them. “It’s like the threads on Sean’s sword, and in Andrea when she heals. But better. The Fae is wrong. This is magic.”
Carly still didn’t know what in the hell he was talking about, but if Tiger meant he felt about her the way Carly felt about him, fine.
She pressed her hand to his chest, liking how his heart beat strong and hard beneath her fingertips. “How do Shifters pledge themselves to each other?” she asked. “Humans say ’til death do us part.�
�
Tiger growled. “I don’t want to talk about death. Shifters say under sun and moon, I claim you as mate. But we don’t need to say anything.”
“I want to. I like pledges. What is the Shifter woman supposed to say in return?”
“That she accepts the claim, under the Father God and Mother Goddess. But Shifters want the mate-claim to be witnessed.”
“I’ll witness it.” Carly smiled as she touched his face. “Tiger, I accept you as mate.”
Carly thought Tiger would growl again that they didn’t need to say anything—men were always embarrassed by rituals—but his smile spread.
“Yes,” he said, his look one of complete triumph. “Yes. My mate. My mate.”
Tiger dragged Carly up off the stool with him, kisses falling like fire on her neck, breasts, over her heart. He licked his way to her nipple, tasting it, pulling the tip into a point.
Carly ran her hand through his hair, loving the rough silk feel of it. The black locks were smoother than the orange, she observed distractedly. The rest of her focused on the fire of his mouth, the sharp tug of his teeth. Sweet goodness.
Tiger’s breath was hot on her skin, his own body temperature hotter than a human’s. He was a strange and exotic man, touching her so skillfully as he nuzzled and licked until she was crazy from it.
“Upstairs,” she murmured. “We should go upstairs.”
“Not yet.”
Tiger lifted her as he stood up, sitting her on the counter. He placed his hands on either side of her, closing her in, his mouth everywhere on her exposed skin.
Two days ago, Carly hadn’t wanted to go near kitchen counters or even think about what could be done on them. Today, she wrapped her legs around Tiger, pulling him to her.
She pushed his flannel shirt from his shoulders—how he could stand wearing flannel in this heat, she didn’t know, but he was Tiger. The T-shirt next. Carly enjoyed herself pushing it upward over his tight torso, until he tore it off over his head in impatience.
He had a fine body. Firm, muscled, tanned, like liquid bronze over a sculpture of perfect proportions. Carly ran her hands over him, seeing that the bullet scars had lessened further in the course of the day. Soon his skin would be whole and tight again.
Unless the Shifter Bureau took him away, or the Shifters decided to kill him or make him wear that stupid Collar.
Idiots. If the Collar Tiger had been wearing was fake, and still he’d stopped himself from killing Walker and the assassin, not to mention Ethan, then obviously Tiger didn’t need the damn thing.
It wasn’t the Collar keeping Tiger careful when he held the cubs or careful with Carly. It was Tiger.
She ran her fingers around the healing line where the fake Collar had been. Tiger looked into Carly’s eyes, the wanting in him stark.
Carly popped the button of his jeans. Tiger growled low in his throat, bunched her dress in his hands, and skimmed it off over her head. Carly sped his zipper down, finding behind it silky red boxers with black hearts on them.
Carly pushed his jeans down his hips, laughing. “Where did you get those?”
“Glory. From Elizabeth’s store.” Tiger kissed her again, letting her laugh against his mouth. “Connor said it was a joke, but I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Tiger loved her laughter. This woman could find the joy in anything. She shook delightfully as Tiger kissed her. “I’ll try to find you some with tiger stripes,” she said. “Or maybe paw prints.”
As she went on laughing, the warmth of the mate bond again filled Tiger’s heart.
At the same time, another pang of loss reached out and gripped him. Connor and Kim had laughed so hard when Glory brought Tiger the gift of the underwear, and even Dylan had looked amused. They’d included Tiger in their family, he realized, in their jokes, even if he didn’t understand them. For a fleeting moment, he’d belonged. Now he had to leave that behind, as well as Carly.
The mate of his heart. Tiger needed her more with every breath.
Maybe her crazy plan to run away with him would work. Maybe they could hole up together in a Mexican beach town and live out their lives.
But Tiger had seen the flash of sorrow in Carly’s eyes when he’d said Carly would have to leave her family behind. She loved them. She had ties here, in this house where she was so comfortable.
Tiger would have to say good-bye to her. But not now. Now he would feast on her, imbibing all she had to give so he could savor the memory when he was away. He’d leave her behind so she could be safe, but he’d leave something else as well. His cub, a part of himself, for her.
Tiger snaked his hand beneath the elastic of her panties and jerked them from her bottom, pushing them down her legs to fall on the floor. While Carly ran her hands down his bare back, nibbling his bottom lip, he pushed down his jeans and then the boxers, letting them pool around his ankles.
He still wore his motorcycle boots, but so what? He didn’t have time to sit down and pull everything off. Better traction on the floor anyway.
Tiger lifted Carly’s hips and settled her on the edge of the counter, winding her legs around him. Her eyes widened and she started to protest, her hands on his chest, but Tiger also knew he would never make it upstairs with her. Maybe to the kitchen table, maybe all the way to the stairs if they ran, but he needed Carly now.
He opened her with his hand, finding her hot and wet with wanting, then he slid inside her, inch by slow inch. It killed him to go slowly, but Carly was still getting used to him, and the last thing in the world Tiger wanted to do was hurt her.
Carly made a soft sound of pleasure, her eyes half closing. She was tight, gripping, and Tiger’s thoughts became incoherent. All he knew was Carly, her heat, her body pliant in his arms, the threads of the mate bond that stretched from his heart to hers.
Those threads could never be severed. No matter how far Tiger went from her, the bonds would be there, invisible, magic, unbreakable.
Carly cried out, and Tiger slid the rest of the way into her. She rocked back, and Tiger lifted her hips, steadying her on his hardness. She was slick, taking him yet squeezing him, and Tiger lost himself in nothing but sensation.
His hips moved, starting the back-and-forth rhythm that felt so incredible. Carly held on to his wrists, her green gaze locked to him, her body rocking with his. She cried his name, the sound of it echoing in the large room, wrapping around him like the magic of the mate bond.
Here was where he needed to be, inside this woman, where all was beauty and wildness. And home.
Tiger thrust into her, filling her all the way, Carly’s eyes widening. She pulled him to her with her feet in their high-heeled shoes on his buttocks, this sex raw and fierce. Tiger loved it—he loved her.
Need you. Love you. Tiger began the rhythm again, faster, faster, the slapping sound as they came together exciting. Carly dug her fingers into his wrists, her spike heels pressing his backside.
Tiger shouted her name, white-hot fire pouring through him. The rightness of being with his mate, and feeling like this, made him know that this was the most precious moment he might ever have for the rest of his life.
Under him Carly pulsed and rocked, her pleasure consuming her. She laughed wildly as she found her release, coming up to wrap her arms around him and hold on to him.
Together, entwined, mated. Tiger gathered him to her, both of them breathless, and kissed her in the sweetness of afterglow.
* * *
Walker stood in front of the desk of his commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Sheldon, and was glad Sheldon wasn’t a Shifter. Walker was good at keeping his body language neutral, but Shifters could read even the minutest twitch of a finger.
“And now I hear the Shifter is missing,” Sheldon was saying. “What the hell happened?”
Sheldon’s voice was quiet and cold. The command of the Special Forces attachment to the Shifter Bureau was pretty much a shit assignment. Sheldon, though, was r
uthless enough to turn it into something he could use for promotion, for a bigger command. Sheldon had ambition.
Walker’s assignment as XO in the unit probably meant he’d been sidelined, but he didn’t care. He’d seen too much in his life, done too much, and had too much anger in him. Sitting on the sidelines for a while was what he needed. And now he had to sit back and watch his commanding officer show his true dickhead colors.
“I want that Shifter found, locked into the facility, and tested every which way,” Sheldon said. “If he resists, and you have to drag in his corpse, do it. The researchers will harvest what they need from him. But I want the Shifter.”
Walker listened without changing expression. When Sheldon moved back to his desk, done with his diatribe, Walker cleared his throat.
“Respectfully, sir.”
Sheldon looked up abruptly, his eyes so cold they burned. “Captain? I’d be interested to hear your opinion.”
The words were a hard sneer. Walker held on to his purpose, though the LTC’s eyes could make even senior officers decide they needed to walk another direction instead of have to pass him.
“With respect, sir, the mission is to find out all we can about why this Shifter was singled out, what research was carried out on him, and if that research or the Shifter himself can be used to help our troops in the field. Not to kill him.”
“Is it?” Sheldon asked. He gave Walker a full minute of his obey-me-or-die stare. “Let me explain something, Danielson. That Shifter could hold secrets that could save our troops, our army, and our missions overseas. You know that—you’ve read the research. Our mission, yours and mine, is to get that Shifter back and extract everything we can from him. Your mission is to bring him to me. By any means possible. Dead or alive.”
Walker hid a twitch of nervousness. The trouble with Sheldon is that he was usually right, but the way he was right spoke of a mercilessness that made Walker’s blood cold. “Sir.”
Tiger Magic su-5 Page 20