“Is that so, Little Man?” Lacey cooed back, ignoring her food.
Hadley looked at her, pity in her eyes. “You know we might not be able to have babies, right?”
Lacey looked down at her finger held tightly within the grasp of the baby. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope. Doesn’t mean I can’t dream.”
Hadley reached across the table and took her friend’s free hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I want one, too.”
Tamara looked between them, confused. “What do you mean?”
“The doctors who did the gene splicing on the men believed it would be enough to render them effectively sterile. There wouldn’t be enough human markers left on their sperm to create a viable baby.”
Tamara frowned. “Oh. But. Creole would have a higher probability, wouldn’t he?” She blushed. “Not that, you know, we’ve gotten that far.”
Hadley smiled and reached across the table to pat Tamara’s hand. “You need anything, we’re here for you, okay?”
Tamara nodded, her gaze never leaving Hadley’s hand patting hers. Normally, this much touch would have sent her screaming. But was it the touch? Or the toucher? Did Tamara not trust her mother to such an extent that it was a reaction to Adele and not just to touch?
She smiled, planning on sharing her new insight with Creole. When he came home.
“Do you think Creole is okay? With the DEA guys?” Nervously, Tamara pulled down the sleeves of her shirt to hide her hands. “They had no idea when they’d be back.”
“I have every faith in Cree,” Lacey said. “You should, too. He might have been a little living on the edge before, but now that you’re here with him, he is bound to be more careful.”
Hadley and Lacey exchanged a noticeable look. “Do you want to tell us what happened? All those years ago? Why did Cree think you were dead?”
Tamara started to shake her head. What was the point? But then she remembered how good it felt getting it all out during her therapy sessions. So, taking a deep breath to brace herself, she began to tell her story.
“A long time ago in a trailer park far, far away, there lived a girl with dishwater blonde hair and a best friend who happened to be able to shift into a cougar,” Tamara began.
It was time to stop being ashamed of her victimhood.
Chapter Seven
Cree
Walker brought the SUV to a stop in front of the small cabins. “You okay?” he asked.
Cree swallowed, still feeling the gut-wrenching misery of the cats they’d rescued. “I never gave much thought to what happened to wild cougars.” He lifted his hands, staring intently at his trimmed nails. “They declawed her. How will she hunt? Scratch her neck? She can’t even work mats free on her fur let alone defend herself.”
“She’ll never be a wild cat again, but the sanctuary that took her in is a good one. They’ll make sure she’s well-fed and taken care of.”
“I’m going down next week to check on the cubs. I’m not sure if I can teach them to hunt or live on their own, but I’ll sure as fuck try.”
“Play fighting is important to cats, too. They get some live small animals in to help with hunting instincts, too. They won’t let the cubs go in the wild if they can’t take care of themselves.”
“Did you see her elbows?” Cree rubbed his own in sympathy.
“She was raised living on a cement floor. There’s no cushion for their joints so they swell.”
Cree opened the door. He didn’t want to rehash the night’s events. He needed his mate.
“Cree?” Walker stopped him.
Cree raised his chin in a silent response.
“You did good work. We didn’t have to put any of those cats down. No one wanted to kill them.”
Cree nodded but still didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure saving the cubs was a good thing. Death or a lifetime behind bars for a crime they hadn’t committed? Neither choice struck him as fair.
There was a single light lit in the cabin. Cree entered and locked the door behind him.
“Tough night?” Tamara gasped when she saw Cree’s eyes. “Oh, sweetie. She patted the place beside her on the couch. “Come sit down.”
“I want to take a shower,” he said. “And not think about it for a minute.”
Tamara stood and walked over to him. “I’ll turn the light out. Come to bed when you’re finished?”
Cree closed his eyes not sure if he was strong enough for possible rejection. He needed to be held but wasn’t sure how to tell his mate.
She pressed against him, arms twining around his neck. “Look at me,” Tamara whispered before kissing him lightly.
Unable to ignore her request, Cree opened his eyes.
“I figured something out today.” Tamara tilted her head towards the bedroom. “We’ll talk after your shower, though.” She kissed him again, pouring her love and devotion through to him.
Cree nodded, still unsure how to process what he had seen and been a part of. As the warm water cascaded over him, he pushed away the fear and stench of the day. Curiosity and desire to see his mate kept the shower quick in spite of a lingering need to feel clean again. Slipping on a pair of lounge pants, Cree went in search of Tamara.
“Hey,” Cree said, feeling rather lame at the unoriginal greeting. Tamara was beautiful, sitting in bed and looking through a yoga magazine.
“Come lay down,” she invited. “I got you a bottle of water.”
Cree looked at his bare feet. “Do I look that bad?”
“Worse.” But her words were gentle. Loving.
He slid into bed and sighed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, curling into him.
“Not really. Not tonight. It’s still so raw and fresh. I knew men could be inhuman. I had no idea of the depravity of it all.”
Tamara nodded sleepily against his side.
“It was a hodgepodge of government agencies. The entire alphabet of teams was there. A cougar rescue. Veterinarians. Sometimes I felt out of place. Like, they all worked like a well-oiled machine. But other times, I knew exactly why I was there. It felt like I had a purpose.”
“I’m glad you went, but it sounds dangerous.” Tamara threaded her hand in his and slid under his arm.
Every muscle in Cree’s body stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“Testing a theory,” she whispered against his chest.
He licked his lips, suddenly parched. Had the temperature gone up ten degrees? “What theory is that?”
Tamara stroked her cheek against the light graze of his chest hair. “Lacey and I went out looking for a studio today.”
“Right.” Cree’s heart pounded in his chest at the feel the plane of her silken back under his palm.
“And she bumped against me. Nothing personal, you know? Just how people do sometimes in small quarters.”
“Okay.” Cree could hardly hear over the rushing sound in his ears.
Tamara propped herself up on one elbow to look him in the eyes. “It didn’t bother me, and it got me to thinking. Since that night, the only person I had was Adele.”
Cree snorted.
“Exactly. And I’ve known what she’s about for years. Maybe, it wasn’t touch so much as her touch. And, eventually, I just got used to having zero contact with people.”
“Does this bother you?” His hand ran up the slim line of her spine.
“No.” She grinned, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder. “I um. Wanted to try something. But I totally get it if you’re not feeling it.”
Cree smiled when he physically felt the heat of her blush against his skin. The day, the lessons, the terrible smells all drifted away. “Why don’t you tell me, and I’ll let you know.”
Wide brown eyes looked up at him through blonde fringe. “I want to try being on top. Being in charge.” She giggled shyly when his jaw dropped in surprise.
“I’m kind of close to the edge,” Cree warned her. “I won’t hurt you but.” His eyes closed, th
e muscle in his jaw ticking in response. “Don’t hurt me.” The words were torn from him, making him feel vulnerable. Weak. Emasculated.
Tamara
Hating herself for hurting the man she loved was so yesterday, Tamara decided. The forlorn look in Cree’s eyes tugged at her, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to offer him comfort.
Sitting up, Tamara slipped her nightshirt off. Cool air touched her skin, making her nipples pebble. She straddled his slim hips before laying her body over his. Like sunshine on a warm day, she was everywhere.
She rested her ear against his chest, feeling the steady pound of his heart echoing in a comforting rhythm. “Put your hands on my bottom.”
Cree splayed his hands across her hips and the curve of her ass. Not restraining or restricting her in any way. “You feel amazing under my hands,” he muttered. His heart beat at a stronger rate, and she felt the stirring of his erection beneath the well-worn pants he wore.
Tamara propped herself up on her elbows. Their eyes met, both far too serious. “Would you pet me?”
“Like this?” Using the pads of his fingers, he began stroking her back. Tracing the line of her spine. The smooth muscles of her shoulders. Sliding down again to trail along the upper part of her thighs.
“Uh huh.” Tamara nuzzled his neck and used her tongue to learn the warm contours of Cree’s shoulder. She tested her teeth against the warm pad of muscle. “You feel pretty amazing to me, too.”
Their moves were slow and syrupy. Each wanted to savor every moment of coming together.
She reached up, breasts grazing against his chest hair. “I want to kiss you.” Tamara dragged her lips, teasing occasionally with her tongue until she reached his mouth. “I was made for you, Creole. Built to love only you.”
Their kiss was fresh. Exquisite in the stillness of the night. Tongues tangling, bodies touching, their love grew stronger.
She nipped his bottom lip, giggling as she let it go. “I’ve never done this before,” she confessed, sliding her panties down her legs.
Tamara reached for the waistband of his pants, laughing as she stroked his hard cock through the thin cotton. Suddenly serious, she gently slid them over his erection and down his pants.
“Neither have I,” he confessed.
Tamara grinned, feeling relaxed for the first time since deciding that tonight would be their first night together. “We’ll learn together.”
She straddled him again, her warm core close to his cock. Cree’s hands braced against her hips. Fingers spanning up her waist.
He licked his lips. The need to touch her was unbearable. Using only one gentle finger, he traced the line of her arms. Neck. The upturned curve of each plump breast.
Cree’s eyes met hers. Reading the need in them, she leaned forward, offering her breasts for his pleasure. And hers.
Tamara gasped at the combined sensation of his tongue touching her nipples and her damp pussy sliding against his solid, thick length. With a helpless, pleasure-wracked whimper, she arched and rotated her hips, seeking carnal pleasure only Creole gave her.
His teeth tightened on her nipple, and he looked up. Gauging her response. “More? Less?” Creole’s voice was husky with desire and it sent a shiver of voluptuous awareness through her body.
“Yes.” Unbidden, as her hips pirouetted on his cock, one small inch penetrated her pussy. Her eyes opened wide at the unexpected sensation.
Cree’s neck was thrown back as he fought the urge to plunge. Plunder. Take. His breathing was ragged as he fought for control. “Please, don’t stop,” he begged.
Tamara relaxed, allowing her body to become like liquid again, covering him. Warming him. And with a final gasp, she slid him home.
“God, baby. You’re perfect,” Cree said between gritted teeth. “Tight. Wet. Mine.”
She laughed nervously. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. He laughed, causing his cock to stir inside of her. “Ooh,” she said. She ground her clit against the base of his cock.
“You seem to have it by instinct.” Cree touched her hair. Her shoulders. Traced the smooth, willowy line of her torso. “I’m just gonna hold your hips, okay?”
She nodded, her head tilting back. Fingers gripping into his shoulders.
“That’s it. There’s my beautiful Tamara. Use your claws on me.” His upward strokes were easy but established a lazy rhythm. “I was made for you, my perfect mate.” Heat pulsed from her and he couldn’t wait for the day when he’d get to feast on her sweet pussy. “Breasts bouncing. Hair swaying. You’re the most beautiful goddamn sight I’ve ever seen.”
Cree’s strokes increased as Tamara surrendered to the hazy cloud of pleasure. Tightening within her. Escalating to dangerous levels. “Cree!”
“Right here. Right with you. I got you, Tams.” He grunted, teeth clenched as he arched his back. “I love you.”
Tamara shuddered, his need pushing her over the edge. She shattered, screaming as she went until she collapsed on his chest. Panting. Exhausted.
She blinked up at him, surprised. “We did it.” Still joined, she did a little hip wiggle happy dance.
Cree laughed. “You did it.” His hips flexed, and her eyes widened.
Tamara sighed in contentment and snuggled into his chest. “We certainly did.”
Strong hands tangled in her hair. Cree’s lips were soft. Coaxing. A thank you for a gift he never thought he’d receive. A devotion to a woman he couldn’t imagine living without.
“Would you like to take a shower? I can clean you off, baby.” Cree’s hands never stopped stroking her skin.
Tamara tucked her face, feeling her cheeks grow pink.
“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?” Cree sensed her mood change immediately. He flipped them to their sides so he could lift her chin.
Sudden embarrassment struck. “You’ll think I’m silly.”
“Baby, trust me.” Cree burrowed his fingers in her hair. “You just blew my mind. Nothing you say at this point will be silly.”
Still blushing, Tamara dared to meet his eyes. “I know we’re a little sticky.” She kissed his chest, nuzzling his chest hair. Her tongue danced its way down to his belly button. She kissed him gently before stroking his hardening cock.
Cree’s eyes closed as he relaxed into the magical sensations her fingers inspired.
“But I wanted to sleep wearing your scent.”
Cree hissed, his body instantly hardening at her words. “That’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve heard in ages.”
“Good,” Tamara said, tasting him. Moaning with the pleasure of giving and receiving.
Later, as they fell asleep, deliciously languid and relaxed, Cree began to purr.
“I love that sound,” Tamara pressed her ear against his chest to get the full effect “I wish I could do it. Tell you how happy you’ve made me.”
Cree tightened his arm around her shoulder. “You already have. I’m just returning the favor.”
Chapter Eight
Cree
Waking up next to your mate was the best feeling in the fucking world, Cree decided with a smug grin. Still mindful of Tamara’s fears, he yawned, stretched his muscles, and grinned.
“Are you smiling?” Tamara asked, turning in his arms so she pressed against his side.
“I think I am, yes.” Cree grinned down at the woman in bed with him. “I have everything I ever wanted right here in my arms.”
Tamara was quiet as one of her fingers traced the tattoo on his chest. “I want to get a tattoo.”
“Any idea what you want?”
She shook her head. “It feels strange. I mean, I’m nineteen. I’m an adult. But I lived under Adele’s thumb my whole life. I don’t have any idea how to be an adult.”
Cree kissed her forehead. “You’ll figure it out. How did you get involved in yoga?”
“It was part of my therapy. It’s quite calming. Centers me. But sometimes in a regular yoga class, the instructor touches you. Not
hing major, but you know. Adjusting your arm position. Or try to help you get deeper into a pose.”
“That would have negated any calmness you got from the yoga,” Cree guessed.
“Oh, yeah, absolutely. My yogi, who also worked with soldiers with major PTSD, practiced no-touch yoga. It was liberating. He would touch if you didn’t mind. But he’d always ask. Always be respectful.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
Tamara nodded. “Flo said I could get a job as a waitress at the Lunchbox to help make ends meet. Give me time to maybe take a class or two on owning my own business.”
“That’s cool. Yeah, there’s a lot to learn. I like being the working partner. It lets me learn as I go. Have you waitressed before? Mel’s bark is worse than his bite.”
“I did in high school, yeah. It let me earn the most amount of money for the hours I worked.”
Cree winced. “I hate you grew up like that.”
Tamara lifted one shoulder and shrugged. “I hate that you grew up the way you did.”
He touched her. Couldn’t seem to stop touching her now that he had permission. No one else had ever expressed sorrow over his childhood. “We’re the same in a lot of ways,” Cree commented.
“Like two halves of the same coin.” Tamara wrinkled her nose playfully. “I’m the girl side, just so you know.”
Cree couldn’t believe how happy she made him. Even his cat, usually pacing and defensive, mostly just felt like purring. And being petted. By his mate.
Tamara’s possible reaction to seeing him in his fur still bothered him. Would it bring up bad memories for her? Would it remind her of the day he’d killed Elliot?
“The prettier half, too,” he said, unable to resist the lure of her mouth.
Tamara sighed. “Keep that up, cougar-man, and you’ll have a very happy woman in your bed.”
Cree tucked in against her, relishing their skin touching. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He was quiet for another minute. Desire skirted around the edges, but Cree wasn’t quite willing to succumb to it. Holding her, talking, naked was proving to be a lot of fun. “If you need to, the Leopard can always handle another waitress or two.” Cree grinned. “You can put Jason in his place.”
Her Mountain Lion Mate (Shifter Special Forces Book 3) Page 6