by Sam Crescent
Nash bared his fangs at Ryker in an obvious stalling tactic.
Ryker leaped forward, faking a dive at Nash’s unharmed front leg. Nash fell for it and threw his weight sloppily to the other side, exposing his hind legs and flank. Ryker wasted no time bringing down the full might of his claws on another chunk of Nash’s body.
The scent of blood filled the air as Nash hit the floor, moaning in pain.
This was usually the part where Ryker shifted back and walked away, knowing the battle was won for the day. He had no doubt that was what Nash expected again.
Instead, Ryker planted a strong paw on Nash’s exposed throat and glared into Nash’s eyes. “Surrender.”
Nash lifted a lip in a curling sneer. “That’s what I’m gonna tell your bitch when I—”
Rage filled Ryker’s vision, and with a mighty roar, he tore his claws through the vulnerable flesh below them.
Chapter Five
Willa could barely breathe, her gaze glued to the hallway where she’d lost sight of the brawling tigers. One of whom she’d let take her to bed not even thirty minutes prior. Her stomach rolled threateningly and she clenched tighter to the comforter in front of her chin. She barely even felt the prickling sting of tears of terror as they rolled past her eyelids.
What am I supposed to do?
Did she stay as she was, naked beneath someone else’s comforter, and pray she survived this night somehow? What if Ryker loses? She’d be dead by dawn for sure if Ryker lost.
Wait … why … am I rooting for Ryker?
Yes, he was the one she’d met—briefly—before the tiger-shifting madness began. And sure, he hadn’t done anything to her she hadn’t pretty much begged for. It hadn’t occurred to her to be afraid of him until … whatever that was happened. But that didn’t change the fact some veritable stranger had taken her to a place she was unfamiliar with, fucked her, and promptly become a freaking tiger. Fighting another man-tiger. Was this some sort of game? Was it an act?
A strangled, feline cry of pain echoed down the hall and Willa jumped in place.
Whether or not she could really trust Ryker remained to be seen. She knew she couldn’t trust the other one—whoever he was.
She had to do something.
Willa drew a deep breath and tore her stare away from the hall, trying valiantly to ignore the sounds drifting into the room. If she really wanted to survive, this was her best chance. Her gaze landed on her discarded jeans. She licked her lips as her body tensed and threw herself toward the foot of the bed. She went straight for the pants, opting to go commando in favor of saving a few precious seconds. But she drew up short when she looked down at herself. She certainly couldn’t run through town without some kind of top. Ryker had destroyed hers, a memory that still sent a shiver of delight down her spine.
This is a terrible time to be turned on, Willa.
Then she saw the large, men’s shirt rumpled on the floor. The very shirt he’d been wearing earlier. It would do. Without taking the time to second-guess herself, Willa moved and snatched it up. His intoxicating male scent washed over her as the shirt fell past her sides. Despite herself, she paused and lifted the collar to her nose for another sniff. In all the chaos, she’d forgotten how delicious he smelled.
Maybe she could trust him? Maybe she didn’t need to run?
And maybe the other guy will win.
It wasn’t worth the risk, no matter how amazing the sex had been. The next problem, though, had her coming up short. She could only see one way out of the room. Through the doorway the tigers had previously rolled through. No way would she be able to sneak past.
Willa pulled her stare away from the hall, hoping to find a window she could squeeze through, but her gaze lingered over a couple of dark crimson spots on the floor and her heart froze.
Blood… She’d nearly forgotten. Ryker, before he’d turned into a tiger, he’d been bleeding. He was hurt. And for whatever reason, the very idea of that made her want to cry. It made no sense.
A bone-shaking roar pierced through her emotional confusion as it filled the building, echoing off the walls. The sound was full of agony. Grief.
Lump in her throat, Willa moved back until the mattress prevented her from taking another step. She was trapped.
After a long, terrible second, a tall, broad, sculpted male stepped into view. He stopped barely a foot into the room, his naked body taking up most of the entrance. It was Ryker.
Sadness dulled his emerald eyes as he dropped his gaze.
The wound in his leg, the one that had bled on the carpet, looked like a recent scar now, emphasizing how little of this situation she really understood.
“I’m sorry,” Ryker said, jerking her back to the moment. He met her gaze again. “That wasn’t how I wanted you to learn my secret.”
Willa’s mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t remember how to form words. Did that mean he’d intended to tell her? Why…? And why did her heart beat a little faster at the notion?
“I understand if you’re scared,” Ryker said, obviously choosing his words carefully. “I won’t hurt you.”
Pulling in a breath through her nose and releasing it deliberately through her mouth, Willa hesitantly asked, “What … what happened? What is this? Why would you want to tell me something so … significant?” And why did she immediately believe him when he swore not to hurt her? Had she really lost her mind?
Ryker released his own breath, harsh and frustrated. “You’ve heard of werewolves?”
Willa felt her eyes widen. “Yes.” She didn’t live under a rock. Hollywood loved werewolves.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow and he locked his stare onto her. “I’m a weretiger. One of the few remaining.”
Her head spun and she quickly braced herself on the mattress behind her knees. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly. “You’re a … what? You expect me to believe that?” But hadn’t she seen it with her own eyes? Hadn’t she watched, helpless and frightened, as the stranger and Ryker both transformed from human to tiger?
“I know it’s a lot,” Ryker assured her, his deep, rumbling voice massaging her nerves from halfway across the room.
All at once she remembered, distantly, having compared a timbre in his voice to some kind of purr. As if that explained everything.
“Why … why tell me?” Willa finally asked. She forced her gaze to linger on Ryker’s this time, suspecting he’d just saved her life regardless of the details. She owed him that much.
His jaw tensed for a moment, but he didn’t look away. “Because you’re my mate.”
Willa hit her butt, nearly sliding off the edge of the bed. “I’m your what?” Had he taken a hard swipe to the head in that hallway? She shook her head before he could respond. “I’m your nothing. We haven’t even known each other for twelve hours. You couldn’t possibly believe we’re … soulmates, or whatever. That’s impossible.”
One of his lips twitched in that sexy, confident grin he’d seduced her with and he asked, “When you walked into that bar, did you believe in weretigers?”
He had her there. Of course. She scrunched her lips, refusing to admit defeat. “I still don’t buy it. Even if you were right—how could you know so fast?” Why the hell was that the question she was going with? This man was nuts!
Or maybe I am? Maybe the bartender spiked my drink with something other than rum? Could she be hallucinating the entire night?
Memories—images, sensations—from her time in Ryker’s arms flooded her mind’s eye and she swallowed heavily. She really didn’t want that to be a hallucination. She wanted to believe that somehow, someway, a soft-spoken, overweight woman like her sparked such a powerful, burning desire in a man like him. Though it did sound outrageous when she thought of it that way.
A warm, gentle, calloused thumb brushed the line of her jaw and startled her back to the moment. She found herself drowning in molten emerald.
“I just know,” Ryker said, his tone hushed and patien
t. “You’re mine, Willa. We were made for each other.”
Her mouth ran dry as more tears stung the backs of her eyes.
How could a man so sinfully sexy, so powerful and dangerous, want her? No. That wasn’t what he was saying. He wasn’t saying he wanted to be with her. He was saying they were destined to be together. That was heavier.
“I … I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve never really believed in that kind of thing.” She swallowed, flicking a glance to the hallway. “Where’s the other guy, anyway? Is this even a good time to be having this conversation?”
Ryker released a breath and straightened, letting his touch fall away. “Unfortunately, this is the only time. Nash is in the hallway. And we don’t want to be here when someone finds him.”
Vomit bubbled up in her throat. Willa choked it back and turned an undoubtedly mortified expression back to Ryker. “You mean he’s dead?”
Emerald gaze darkening, Ryker replied, “He’d have killed you if I held back. Maybe not today, maybe not this decade, but he would have. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Willa clamped a hand over her mouth as tears fell down her cheeks. He’d killed that other tiger guy for her? How was she supposed to live with that?
The bed dipped beside her, blocking her view of the hall, and a strong, warm arm curled around her waist. Another hand settled on her shoulder, tucking her into a muscular chest. “This isn’t your fault, baby,” he said softly. “Nash has been coming after me for a long time. I shouldn’t have let it get this bad.”
It was too much. She’d been emotionally unstable when she’d walked into that bar. Now there was a dead guy in the hallway and a weretiger talking about destiny with his arms around her. Her life had never been this remarkable. She didn’t know how to handle it. So she let the tears fall, not allowing herself to question the sense of security she found in Ryker’s embrace. If she expected to function properly in any sense of the term, she first needed to release some of the stress and confusion.
After a short stretch of time, Willa realized Ryker had bowed his head into her hair. He was nuzzling her neck and ear with his nose, reminiscent of what he’d done before Nash had interrupted them. The tender way he’d held her. Never, before tonight, had she ever been held like this.
Like she was a treasure. A precious, priceless, beloved object.
She’d always wanted to be held like this.
The thought helped to slow her tears and she curled her fingertips into his bare chest. “How do we … avoid being arrested for murder?”
Ryker took a slow, deep breath and eased back to meet her gaze. “We run.”
Chapter Six
“Tell me again how it works,” Willa requested unexpectedly.
Ryker glanced over at her, finding she hadn’t moved from the window seat of their beachside rental house. Her eyes were still pointed out the window, toward the rolling waves of the Pacific, but he doubted she saw the ocean.
It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d had to rip out Nash’s throat.
A couple of weeks since he’d had to awkwardly explain to his destined mate that he was a weretiger and she was supposed to be his. But in the end she’d been right, it hadn’t been the time to finish that conversation. She’d let him drag her out of town with surprisingly minimal resistance to the idea of abandoning the life she’d been leading.
Even so, nearly a week had gone by before she’d awkwardly brought the subject up again. She hadn’t yet let him share her bed. But he understood she needed time to process everything. It was a lot to handle even without having had it all thrown in her face at once.
Willa finally turned enough to look in his direction. “Mating,” she clarified. As if he’d misunderstood.
Ryker held his seat on the large sofa, not wanting to crowd her and scare her off. “We lock ourselves away for a couple of days. Make love literally until we pass out. Legend goes we’ll wake with the next sunrise, the female—you—will climb on top and focus solely on bringing herself to orgasm. The male—me—isn’t allowed to touch, or kiss, or otherwise actively participate. Your orgasm should trigger mine automatically. Somehow this synchronizes our bodies, binds our life forces, and allows us to communicate even when I’m shifted.”
Willa arched a brow, her reaction much more contained than the first time he’d explained this process, and said, “But conveniently, we won’t have confirmation of this destiny thing until after the endless hours of mind-blowing sex?”
He couldn’t stop the grin this time. “And that’s only if I can control my need to taste you in the morning.”
Her cheeks flushed adorably and she looked away. “Ryker,” she said, voice soft. “This whole destiny thing is overwhelming. But … I’ve never felt the way I feel around you. I’m not usually the kind of woman who trusts a stranger enough to share a table with them, let alone all this.”
“Baby, if you’re not ready—”
“That’s just it,” she interrupted, drawing a breath and gifting him with another small smile. “I’m scared, and uncertain, when I think about it. But it’s all I can dream about now. I feel like my body is physically itching for you. When you go out, to get groceries or walk the beach or whatever, I miss you. I worry as soon as the door’s shut. It’s crazy.”
Ryker stood and stepped up to her, letting the tips of his fingers brush her jaw as he tilted her head up to meet his gaze again. “None of that’s crazy. Not to me. When I leave you alone for anything, I can’t help but worry something’s going wrong.” He took a breath and lowered his lips to hers for a slow, wet kiss. “You are everything to me, Willa.”
She was smiling again when he pulled back enough to see her expression. Tears clouded her eyes, but he smelled no sadness or fear. Only mild hesitation and excitement. “Can we … have dinner first?”
****
The first thing Willa registered as the fog of sleep faded from her mind was warmth. An all-encompassing, comforting, yet tantalizing warmth. She knew without a doubt it was because of the magnificent man wrapped around her. Ryker’s arms were locked tight around her waist, his nose pressed against her throat. Their bodies were flush, her breasts pleasantly crushed against his chest while a delicious hardness poked her hip.
Though how in the world his body could have recovered from the night they’d shared was beyond her. It was a mix of erotic images and tingling, explosive pleasure in her memory. He’d kissed her and touched her everywhere. Of course, she’d done the same things to him in return.
Her body warmed with the thought.
She’d run her fingers and her tongue and her lips over every single muscle she could reach. The taste of his skin was branded on her tongue. It made her want to taste him again. To see if he tasted differently in the morning.
Willa blinked her eyes properly open, squinting briefly into the bright morning sunlight. The air in the room was cool, telling her that despite the light filtering in, it was probably still early. And now she understood how he could be ready to go again, because reflecting on the way he’d made her feel the night before had woken her up, too.
“Ryker,” she whispered, knowing with his enhanced feline hearing there was no way he would sleep through her voice.
The arms around her tensed for a moment before loosening and Ryker lifted his head. “Mmm, good morning.” His deep, enticing voice danced a sensual rhythm down her spine. She let him pull her in for a slow kiss, enjoying each stroke of his tongue along hers. But just for a minute.
Willa planted her palms against his chest and pushed lightly. She clucked her tongue, looked into his beautiful eyes, and said, “Lie back.”
Ryker released his hold on her with a heavy, lingering touch and adjusted himself until he was properly on his back. With one hand on his stomach, the other still warming her skin, he arched a brow at her and asked, “Like this?”
“Exactly like that,” she assured him. She gently moved the forearm he’d rested across his abdomen as she climbed over and st
raddled him. Her tangled hair fell to either side of her head as if creating a curtain around them. “I know you said I’m supposed to focus on my own pleasure, but I promise you, we’re both going to enjoy this.”
His eyes darkened with desire and he smirked. “That is the general idea, yeah.” He deliberately raised his arms up and shoved his hands beneath the pillow supporting his head. “I’m all yours, baby.”
Willa smiled and teased his cheek with a light kiss before straightening over him. She licked her lips, the rampant, burning lust in her veins barely even cooled by the brief flash of nerves rolling through her stomach. But they faded before she could give them any thought, so she trailed the tips of her fingers down his perfectly sculpted chest. Down, until she had wrapped both hands around his cock. She adjusted her weight, rolled her hips, and impaled herself thoroughly.
Ryker groaned, his head falling back to the pillow again, as Willa smoothed her hands once more over his abdomen. The sensations of his enjoyment were as thrilling to her as the feeling of having his rigid cock buried in her core.
And all at once she had to move.
Body burning with need more powerfully than she’d ever imagined, Willa gave in to her instincts and threw her head back as she began a bouncing, rocking rhythm. She curled her nails into his skin, occasionally adjusting her angle or her pace, and focused on the glorious feeling of him.
She wished he could touch her. Wished she could feel his calloused hands around her breasts or his skilled lips at her throat. Instead she lifted her hands from his skin and cupped her breasts herself. It wasn’t quite the same, but she imagined her hands were his and followed the pattern he’d developed the night before. Rolling, pinching, rocking, grinding. She moved over him, her eyes closed, and lost herself in bliss.