by Becca Van
She thought about the invitation to show her work at the Chicago Institute of Art. She’d been so excited when she’d received that invite and had contacted the curator and manager of the place immediately by e-mail. Thankfully, she’d made up an e-mail address using her pseudonym of Stealthy, so she still had her anonymity. For now.
She’d asked all kinds of questions, but the most specific was if there had been a limit on how many paintings she would be allowed to bring if she decided to show her work. She’d been surprised by the immediate reply and the answer had been a maximum of twenty pieces. Tammy had more than twenty paintings hidden away, but not all of them were good enough to show. She’d made a decision then and there. She would attend and submit a portfolio of her best pieces for the showing, which wasn’t happening for a couple of months yet. That also gave her more time to do another piece, but the image hadn’t coalesced in her mind yet. Sometimes she’d see a picturesque landscape and couldn’t resist trying to get it down on canvas, but other times she was inspired by a song she heard on the radio or something someone said.
Tammy had countless paintings of her mates locked away in a cupboard in her art room, but no one had seen them and no one would if she had anything to say about it. Which she did since she kept the key on a chain in her jewelry box. Some of those depictions were okay, but none of them were good enough to show. As far as she knew, no one knew she’d dabbled at doing portraits, and though she loved doing landscapes, there was an urge inside of her she couldn’t ignore. She needed to paint her mates and their inner animals. Excitement fluttered in her belly. She wasn’t going to give up until she was happy with the results. Once she’d finished the painting she was working on, she would try painting Phelan and Hopper again.
Pushing her thoughts aside, she picked up her pace toward her parents’ house. She needed a shower, coffee, and food in that order, then she would spend the day painting. The client wanted it finished before Christmas and she was running out of time.
Chapter Nine
Craig watched the petite, sexy woman walking from the window in the house he was staying in, while helping to build the small resort-like building in Savoonga. She’d just left one house and was moving toward another.
Tammy. Her name was Tammy.
He couldn’t pull his eyes away from her perfect peach of an ass or the sway of her hips. He usually went for buxom blondes but there was something about the auburn-haired woman that pulled at him. Maybe it was her feistiness that got to him, but whatever it was he was going to have her in his bed. He couldn’t wait to show her what a real man was like. Beating that spirit right out of her would be a pleasure. He dropped the edge of the blind and ran his hand down over his chest toward his hard, throbbing cock, gripped the base, and began to pump his length as he imagined tying Tammy down and slapping her around before taking his pleasure.
He grunted as cum spewed from his dick onto his stomach and after he had his breath back, wiped his jism onto the T-shirt he’d discarded on the floor before he’d climbed into bed. Soon he’d have that sexy little bitch under him and at his mercy.
* * * *
Phelan knew as soon as he opened his eyes that Tammy was gone. His sigh was full of sadness, but he quickly pushed that emotion aside and anger began to take its place. He was hurt and angry that his, their mate, had left while he’d been sleeping. Why the hell would she do that? She was theirs and should still be in his bed.
He flung the covers aside and stared down at his hard, aching cock. The mating heat was bubbling away inside of him, but since Tammy had taken off there would be no reprieve. He rose and hurried into the bathroom, turned the shower on, and when the water temperature was right stepped in under the stream. He groaned when the water hit the head of his dick and though he tried to push the heat and lust inside of him away, it was impossible. With a sigh of resignation, Phelan took himself in hand and began to stroke his hand up and down his erection. In his mind, he pictured Tammy as he’d made love to and claimed her the previous night. She was so fucking beautiful. Her cheeks had been flushed, her lips swollen and rosy from his kisses, and his mouth watered as he remembered the taste of her honey on his tongue.
He’d wanted her for what seemed like forever, but he knew well and good that he couldn’t claim her. He’d been angry when she’d announced she was leaving the island to go to college in Seattle but had kept his mouth shut. It would have done no good to rant and rave and deny her what she wanted. Tammy had still been so young and had needed to spread her wings, to be allowed to follow her heart’s desire and get the schooling she wanted to follow the career path she’d mapped out. Letting her leave Savoonga had been the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do in his life. He’d lived in fear for four long years wondering if some other man was touching her, courting her, and stealing her heart away from him. Pushing his emotions aside had been hard, too, and not pouncing on her the moment she’d come back home had been a yearning so strong he was scared to even be close enough to breathe in her delicious woman’s scent.
He, Hopper, and Tammy should be happy since they’d mated, but he knew that wasn’t so. Tammy couldn’t be happy if she’d been able to leave their bed after they’d made love with her. She cried out in rapture more than once so he knew she’d been satisfied sexually. However, he didn’t know what was going on in that stubborn smart mind and for the first time in his life, he wished he could. Tammy had been an open book when she’d been younger, but now, she was so closed off and adept at concealing her emotions that he had no idea what she was thinking. Hopefully, one day soon she would trust him and Hopper enough to open up with them.
Phelan drew in a ragged breath and pushed those thoughts aside. Thankfully, none of his fears had been founded and she was back home safe and sound where she was supposed to be. And from what Celeste had said weeks ago, Tammy hadn’t even looked at another man let alone let one touch her.
He moaned as he yanked on his dick and brought up the image of Tammy as she’d climaxed around his cock, in his arms. That was all it took to send him up and over the edge. Cum spewed onto the tile wall again and again, until finally, there was no semen left in his balls.
As he washed his body he tried to figure out why Tammy had taken off. Was it because of something he and Hopper had said or done? She’d been a virgin and they’d taken her one after the other. Had they hurt her physically, and if so, would she ever want to be with them again? He tried to remember everything he’d done to her, every flinch and moan. There had been a lot of moaning but he couldn’t remember her flinching or wincing. Tammy had been with him every step of the way and from what he could tell, she’d been the same way with Hopper. However, Phelan hadn’t stayed in the room while Hopper and Tammy had made love. Could his best friend have said or done something to jeopardize their chances with their mate? He didn’t think so, but he was going to ask anyway.
Phelan was just stepping from the shower when Hopper barged into the bathroom, the door slamming against the wall. “Where the fuck is she? What did you do?”
“That’s what I want to know.” Phelan dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist.
“What?”
“Did you hurt her last night? Did you say something to piss her off?”
“No! Why the fuck would you ask that? She’s my world and has been since I was twenty-one years old.”
“Then why isn’t she here? Why did she leave?” Phelan snarled.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“What the hell are you two yelling about?” Tarik stood in the entrance to the bathroom with his arms crossed over his chest. Phelan hadn’t even heard him enter the house. He’d been so hell bent on trying to figure out why their mate would leave. His gut was roiling with anger and heat and he felt as if he was going insane. His skin felt as if thousands of ants were crawling all over him and even though he’d just tugged one out, his cock was already hard again.
Tarik’s nostrils flared as he inhaled and th
en he met Hopper’s gaze before meeting his. “You claimed her.” He frowned and tilted his head. “Where the hell is my sister?”
“We don’t know.” Hopper walked over to the vanity and leaned on the sink.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Tarik roared.
“She left while we were asleep,” Phelan muttered.
“Fuck. What did you do to her?” Tarik took a step closer, his hands clenched at his sides.
“We didn’t do anything.” Hopper flung his hands up. “She was satiated and happy when she fell asleep but gone before we woke up.”
“You didn’t hurt her?” Tarik asked.
Phelan got angry over that question even though he’d been thinking the same thing only moments before. “I’d cut off my own hand before I harmed a hair on her head.”
Tarik sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“What’s crawled up your ass?” Hopper asked.
“Celeste is sick and I’m worried,” Tarik said.
“Have you had Ward or Serge check her out?” Phelan frowned.
“I wanted to but she refused.”
“What are her symptoms?” Hopper asked.
“She’s sick nearly every morning and tired all the time. Her face is so pale she looks as if she’s about to pass out.” Tarik frowned. “By lunch time she’s feeling better and the color returns to her face, but…”
Phelan almost smiled when the frown left Tarik’s face and a speculative gleam twinkled in his eyes. It looked like his alpha had finally worked out why his mate was feeling under the weather.
“Do you know where Tammy might have gone?” Hopper asked.
“She’s probably in her studio,” Tarik answered distractedly and then he was gone.
“Looks like Tarik and Hodge are going to be daddies.” Hopper tried to smile but failed miserably.
Phelan didn’t feel much like smiling either. “Let’s get dressed and find our recalcitrant mate.”
Hopper nodded before turning away and heading toward his bedroom and the adjoining bathroom.
Normally Phelan ate a huge breakfast each day since he had a fast metabolism, but the thought of food turned his stomach. However, the famishment to be with his mate intensified with each second that passed. Phelan hoped that Tammy didn’t turn them away when they found her, because he was worried if she did, his sabear would end up breaking free. His inner beast was going nuts and it was getting harder and harder to keep his animal at bay. He and his sabear didn’t like that the bond hadn’t worked with Tammy, but he had no idea why or what to do to fix it.
* * * *
Tammy stepped back from the easel after placing the last brush stroke on the canvas and stared at the complete picture. It had turned out far better than she’d imagined and hoped the customer liked it as much as she did. She’d been working since three thirty this morning and she’d been concentrating so hard she was exhausted, but it had been worth it. She’d finished the painting ahead of schedule and after it was dry, she would wrap it, pack it, and send it to her client. The painting had taken up a lot of time, but since the commission was a generous one, it was worth it.
She hadn’t told anyone other than her mom that she’d sold quite a few paintings while she’d been earning her art degree in college and had even sold another couple since she’d been home. She’d set up a website displaying her pieces and had even had an inquiry from an art gallery in Chicago, and even though it was her lifelong dream to become a famous artist, she no longer wanted the fame after seeing what Celeste had dealt with, being the famous supermodel Celestial, and the creepy stalker who’d made her life a living hell. Tammy wanted nothing to do with the glitz and glamour side of being renowned. Luckily, she’d taken on a pseudonym, which would allow her to remain anonymous. She only ever signed her name as Stealthy.
Tammy carefully lifted the easel to the other side of the room away from her work area and the door and made sure the painting faced the wall so it wouldn’t be seen. She’d actually forbidden anyone to step foot in her art studio and was pleasantly surprised when her order had been adhered to. She wondered if her dads knew she’d sold any of her paintings and smiled over her naïveté. Of course they knew, and so did Celeste, since she’d been her first customer, but as far as she knew, no one else in town was any the wiser.
She didn’t paint for the fame or fortune—not that she’d made much money, but she was slowly gaining notoriety. She painted for the sheer joy of it. She loved seeing the pictures in her mind coming to life across a once blank canvas, and she also liked earning her own way. The painting she’d just finished had netted her ten thousand dollars, and if the client liked it, they said they would be ordering more and passing her name on to their friends. She had no idea how her client had found out about her, and though she suspected it had been Celeste’s doing, her friend hadn’t affirmed or negated her hypothesis.
Tammy pushed her thoughts aside and began to clean up. She put the brushes into a jar of turpentine and dabbed her palette clean. After making sure everything was where it should be, she grabbed an empty easel and set up before placing another blank canvas on the stand. She picked up a pencil and stared at the blank canvas as she let her imagination reign free. The image that kept coming into her mind was her mates, but not just in their human form. She’d seen them shift countless times over the years, but seeing them in their animal forms never got old. To Tammy, it was an amazing, awe-inspiring sight and she’d studied their sabears intently each and every time they’d shed their human forms. She didn’t need a photograph to see every stripe, every shade, or muscle flex when they moved.
She’s spent nine years watching them avidly in both forms and it didn’t seem to matter that out of those nine years, she’d been away from them for four, except for college break. And now she knew them in even more intimate detail.
Her breathing sped up and her palms grew sweaty as she remembered each touch, lick, and kiss. Her pussy moistened, her clit engorged and throbbed, and her breasts swelled. The fire which had been low, glowing embers flamed a little hotter and a little brighter, and her insides began to tremble. She wished for the first time in her existence that she could feel them through her bond, but she couldn’t.
She wanted to go and talk to her mom about this unexpected anomaly, but she felt like a failure. A failure as a woman and a mate. It didn’t matter that they wanted her body, or that she was feeling the effects of the mating heat again. What mattered to Tammy the most was that they wanted her for who she was, not because of what she was.
She wanted them to want her because they loved her, not because they were pushed toward her because of testosterone-driven hormones caused by the mating heat.
Tears burned her eyes when she realized that neither Phelan nor Hopper had ever asked about her degree or what she was going to do with it. That showed her how much they really cared, and she felt her heart shrivel up a little more. They may have claimed her as their mate, but they hadn’t really mated with her. They’d used her body to relieve the mating fever and that was all.
Tammy didn’t know if she wanted to make love with them again. She was hurting too much to look them in the eye, let alone let them touch her. However, she knew that being with them again was as inevitable as her taking her next breath, but that didn’t mean she had to live with them. As far as she was concerned, once they had mated her fully, her job was done. They’d be safe from turning animalistic and remaining that way. Then she could live her life the way she wanted to, pursuing her career as an artist, and maybe even moving away from St. Lawrence Island.
Her thoughts seemed to continue around and around in circles. Tammy had no idea how long she’d been lost in her pity party, or that she’d been sketching on the canvas while she’d been thinking. That was until she heard a sound outside the door to her studio. She blinked the canvas back into focus and gasped when she saw that she’d sketched Phelan and Hopper as they were in human form. She glanced about and spied a bag of old clo
thes she’d commandeered for rags, grabbed a shirt from the top, and draped it over the canvas. Her heart flipped when the door to her studio opened and Phelan came striding into the room. Hopper was right behind him.
“Get out!” Tammy scowled and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. No one, not even her mates, were allowed in her work room.
“No.” Phelan came closer and closer, not stopping until he was only a few feet away. He glanced about the room but when his gaze stopped on the easel behind her, Tammy went on the attack.
“No one is allowed in here, not even you.” She poked Phelan in the chest. “This is my work space. I don’t invade your work…get the fuck out.”
“Not happening, sweetheart,” Hopper stated emphatically as he moved to stand beside Phelan. “Why the hell did you leave?”
“I had work to do.” A horrifying thought crossed Tammy’s mind and she had to swallow the gasp that formed in her chest. Just because she couldn’t feel their emotions, didn’t mean they couldn’t feel hers. She wrung her fingers and hoped they didn’t notice the blood draining from her face. She did and felt a little lightheaded until she noticed that she’d stopped breathing.
Phelan frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she lied. “I’ve just got a lot to do today.”
“Are you working on a painting?” Hopper skirted around her and reached toward the shirt covering the canvas.
“Don’t touch it!” Tammy yelled.
Hopper turned to face her. “Why? We’re interested in what you do.”
“Since when?” Tammy muttered. She glanced at Phelan when he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.