PrimalFlavor

by Danica Avet

“Is that a problem?”

  Even from his position, he could see her lips curl in a contented smile. “No. It just takes some getting used to, is all.”

  Zach released his tight hold on her waist and stroked her flanks, enjoying the way the muscles flexed as though reacting to his touch. “You wanted this to happen today, didn’t you?” He knew she had, but had to hear it from her.

  She tilted her head down to look at him with a drowsy gaze. “The bulk package of condoms wasn’t enough of a clue? Should I have bought a case of them instead?” She lifted herself from her limp sprawl, the muscles of her stomach contracting with the movement and her channel squeezing his dick until his eyes crossed. When he could finally see straight again, she’d perched herself on his chest, arms crossed and bony elbows digging into his pecs, but he ignored all that because her face was only inches from his own.

  “Zach, I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. I’m not like a lot of women you’ve probably been with.” Something passed behind her eyes, a shadow that made his tiger tense, yet she didn’t let it linger. “I don’t play games and I don’t lie. With me, what you see is what you get, so if I show up with a box of condoms it’s because I plan to enjoy myself with you. My only worry was that you didn’t return the sentiment.”

  Some of his tension had faded at her words. No, Colette wasn’t like women who thought playing coy and hard to get was the way to go. He wouldn’t go so far as to say she didn’t play games because he remembered how she’d made him chase her around the cabin, but it had been a mutual game, not one she initiated to keep his interest. Then the rest of her words sank into his mind and he glared at her.

  “Are you couillon, woman? Of course I want you!”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah and that’s why you didn’t come out here prepared, hanh? Because you could barely keep your hands to yourself.”

  He refused to acknowledge the blush he felt climbing his face in a cascade of heat. “I was trying to show you I wanted you more than just for sex.” He heard the defensive tone in his voice, but couldn’t help it. He didn’t just want her for fucking. He could get that anywhere. Okay, maybe not Colette-style sex, but if that was all he was after, he could’ve saved himself some time and blue balls to get it. Zach prepared to tell her exactly that, but her wide, strangely vulnerable stare stopped him. “What?”

  “You want more than sex?”

  His stomach clenched in dread and nervousness because unlike before, she didn’t sound excited. If anything, she seemed closed off to him. Even her scent had changed, although her pulse fluttered madly at her neck. Unsure and not liking it one bit, Zach said the first thing that came to mind. “I want exclusive rights.” It wasn’t a lie, per se. He wanted exclusive rights to her heart and her soul and her body for the rest of their lives. He just wasn’t ready to tell her all that. Yet.

  Colette stared at him, those weird shadows dancing behind her eyes before she nodded. “Okay. I want that too,” she added quickly, slanting a dangerous glare on him. “If some shifter swishes her tail at you, I reserve the right to cut it off. And your punishment would result in something else getting the chop. Got it?”

  The low menace in her voice and the cold bite in her eyes should have turned him off. He didn’t do possessive women, but Colette proved to be yet another exception to the rule. His dick twitched at the danger, the way it did every time she did something to reveal the predatory female in human skin. He lifted her off his cock with a little toss that had her tumbling to the foot of the bed. Before she could splutter in outrage, he had the used condom off and a new one on and was sliding into her slick cunt.

  At first she threatened him with all kinds of awful things that involved his balls and her hunting knife, but after a few strokes, her fingers dug into his ass, pulling him closer and her teeth were in his shoulder, stifling her screams of pleasure.

  * * * * *

  She really hated to leave the cabin, but the thunderstorms had passed at least two hours before and the sun would be setting soon. Colette peeked at Zach under her eyelashes as he helped her strip the bed. He hadn’t put his shirt back on yet after cleaning up a little from the cistern water, his golden skin gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Her heart tripped in her chest when he caught her gaze and smiled. She looked away again, her stupid blush making him chuckle.

  Her entire body tingled from the most amazing orgasms she’d ever experienced. He’d definitely proved himself to be the kind of lover who left a woman sighing with pleasure and begging for more. If it hadn’t been for the fear that her father would come looking for them, Colette would’ve tied him to the small bed and kept him as her secret forever. Because it would have to remain a secret. Maybe her dad would be accepting of her relationship with Zach by their thirtieth anniversary. Her heart fluttered at the thought. She did her best to keep her cool. He hadn’t said anything about permanent markings.

  She frowned at the pile of sheets that carried the strong scent of sex, bundling them into a single tote so she could clean them at home. He had to mean he seriously wanted to mate her, right? A man didn’t demand exclusivity of a woman, mark her in such a primal way if all he wanted was a booty call. Right? A tiny voice, the one that continued to be cynical despite the happiness in her heart and the heavy pleasure still coursing through her body, said he was just marking her the way he would a tree he wanted to use as a scratch post. It was the same voice she tried to ignore when she thought she saw something stronger than affection in Zach’s gold eyes. What would a tiger with his reputation want with a crazy coonass whose family threatened him on a daily basis? A quick fuck, that’s what.

  “Everything okay?” he asked when she sat staring at the bundled sheets like an idiot. He crouched next to her, all of that golden skin filling her vision. “Colette?”

  Blinking to clear the visions of heartbreak dancing before her eyes, she ducked her head. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just thinking I’m gonna have to come back here in a few weeks to give it a good cleaning, that’s all.” She aimed a blank smile over his left shoulder. “Deer season starts in a few months.” She caught his frown out the corner of her eye as she climbed to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  He grabbed the laundry bag laden with soiled sheets and hefted it onto his shoulder without being asked. Not that she would’ve. Colette was so accustomed to doing for herself, she didn’t bother asking people anymore. Her shaky, scared heart warmed at how easily he fit himself into her routine. Not barreling over her like a steamroller, but acting as an extension of herself, as though he’d been working at her side all her life.

  As they left the cabin, Colette tried to pretend as though it were no big deal when he reached out to grab her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as they walked down to the dock. But it was a huge deal. Even with the boyfriends she’d had in college, they hadn’t reached for her. She’d had to initiate the contact with them, something she frequently didn’t bother doing because it seemed weird and unnatural to hold hands with someone. With Zach though, it was another way he made them fit together as though they were two halves of a whole. Remembering exactly how well they fit together in a biblical sense, Colette shivered.

  “Will you come back to my place tonight? I want to cook for you,” he said as he helped her load the boat.

  Caught in the middle of stepping into the boat, his question took her off guard, which was the only reason she slipped between the boat and the dock, plunging feet first into the bayou. She barely had enough time to hold her breath before she went under, her movements stirring up the muddy bed and obscuring her vision. Not that she needed it. She let a few bubbles escape her mouth and followed them to the surface, using her hands to find the bottom of the boat so she didn’t hit it with her head. She heard muted roars and splashing somewhere above her, but tuned it out to find her way back above water.

  When her hand broke the surface, Zach was there to grab it, hauling her out of the bayou, wet clothes and shoes and all. />
  “Fuck, Colette,” he shouted at her as he pulled her into the boat. His hands ran over her, pressing here and there. “Talk to me, dammit! Are you okay?”

  She blinked the water from her eyes, thick, south Louisiana air filling her lungs when she gasped like a landed fish. “Okay,” she whispered as she coughed. “I’m okay.”

  His hands left her abruptly, drawing her gaze to him rather than the puffy clouds overhead. Zach’s lips were white where they were pressed together, lines of tension bracketing his mouth. His eyes were pure gold, his pupils tiny pinpricks of black. Wondering what his problem was, she looked him over, wondering if he’d hurt himself when he pulled her out of the water. He still hadn’t put his shirt on and it looked as though every vein in his arms stood in stark relief against his skin as though he’d just pumped enough iron to build a train.

  “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively, her voice still hoarse.

  He closed his eyes, nodding with short jerks of his head.

  Colette sat up, slinging the hair off her face and looked around. “I haven’t done that since I was little,” she remarked with a self-depreciating laugh that fell flat when Zach didn’t join her. She cleared her throat and got to her feet. Her clothes were soaked. Again. Shit. “Well, at least it won’t be hot on the trip back to the office,” she muttered as she walked to the back of the boat. When she got behind the wheel, Zach knelt in the same place, his head bowed. He had to have hurt his back lifting her out of the water, but was too proud to admit it. Shaking her head at stubborn men, she started up the boat. “So what do you want to cook for me?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He was having a heart attack. That was the only logical explanation for the way it continued to pound despite the danger being long past. Colette didn’t seem to have a problem putting her fall into the bayou behind her. Probably because she hadn’t seen the fucking alligator slide into the water from the far bank and head straight for her, he thought, his heart once again jumping into his throat. His tiger had gone on instant offense, roaring a warning at the fucking lizard threatening its mate. When her hand broke the surface of the water, he hadn’t thought twice, just pulled her out. And other than spluttering a little, she’d acted as though it wasn’t a big deal.

  “So what do you want to cook for me?”

  He lifted his head at that, staring at her with a blend of frustration, relief and pained love. The dip in the bayou had left her clothes plastered to her body again. Her hair slicked over her delicate skull. Skin glistening like wet honey, she looked like a mermaid. A mermaid who didn’t seem to realize the danger she’d been in, or if she did, accepted it as a normal part of her life.

  “Zach?”

  He blinked, realizing she was staring at him as though he needed help. And maybe he did. If loving Colette was going to be this dangerous and frightening, it seemed he hadn’t given her father enough credit for surviving her youth. “Alligator,” he muttered as he lifted his ass to sit on the bench in the center of the boat facing her. “I’m cooking alligator.”

  “Sounds good,” she remarked with enough enthusiasm that he could have cheerfully strangled her. His tiger rumbled at the thought. Okay, maybe not strangle her, spanking her sounded better. “Do you need me to supply the meat? ’Cause I have a few bags in my freezer from last season.”

  She chattered on, pointing out all the spots she’d hunted, where she caught this alligator, where she shot that buck, not in the least bit shaky after falling into alligator-infested waters. Listening to her, nodding when she seemed to expect a response, Zach pondered ways he could keep her safe. There was no way he could take as much time off from the bakery as he had lately. Emily had sounded as though she thought he was dying when he told her to cover for him today. An absence of more than two days in a row would have the place crumbling into ruin.

  Logic told him Colette knew how to take care of herself, had survived this long without him in her life, but that thought process was about as helpful as tits on a bull because logic had nothing to do with how he felt about this woman. His tiger was outraged that she held herself in so little care. It wanted to wrap her in bubble wrap and put her on a shelf somewhere so she didn’t get hurt.

  Yeah, that would go over like gangbusters. She’d skin him alive and use his pelt to wipe her feet every day. No, he’d have to trust that she wouldn’t do something dangerous and get herself killed. Trust. The word alone made his stomach sour and cramp.

  “What’re you thinking about to make that face?” she asked over the roar of the motor.

  But before he could lie to her, his nose caught a scent that snapped him out of his self-pitying thoughts. A look around showed they were back to the fork in the bayous where they’d stopped before, but this time there was a new, unwelcome scent all over the area. His tiger let out a subvocal growl that traveled along the bayou, sending birds to the sky. The wolf. He smelled that ball-licking, ass-sniffing wolf.

  “Good Lord, you’d better hope the wind doesn’t change direction, or your face’ll get stuck that way,” Colette teased as she brought the boat around the curve in the bayou.

  But the minute they cleared the trees, she killed the engine. The expression on her face went from happy and carefree to a mask, the smile dropping away as though the sun suddenly fell from the sky. Zach swiveled on his bench, knowing what he would see before he even turned around.

  Unfortunately, he was correct. The bastard wolf, also known as the Wildlife Enforcement Agent, sat in a boat in the very center of the bayou, his mirrored sunglasses hiding his wintry blue eyes. The tiger snapped at Zach’s mind, wanting at the fucker for coming near his woman again, but the gun on the dog’s hip stopped him from doing something stupid and leaving Colette helpless.

  * * * * *

  It finally dawned on Colette, as she was driving back to the office, that Zach had been worried about her. He sat facing her on the bench in the middle of the boat, a brooding expression on his handsome face. It was the most adorable look ever, melting her heart in ways she really didn’t need right now, not if she was going to keep her shit together. But seriously, how could she resist? She was used to him being sexy. Demanding. Mischievous and even charming. But worried and brooding? No, not so much. And he was that way because he’d worried about her falling in the water. He’d run his hand through his hair numerous times, tugging on the strands, eyeing her the same way her dad had when he’d discovered she wasn’t his little tomboy anymore. Who would’ve guessed Zach and her daddy had anything in common? But it appeared both men thought she needed a keeper.

  If it had been any other man, she would’ve disabused him of that notion immediately and violently. Except she actually felt as though Zach’s worry equaled care. It had to. You didn’t worry for someone if didn’t care for them. Right?

  She puzzled over that for most of the trip, making little comments here and there, trying to figure out if Zach was worried for her in a my girlfriend and possible mate almost drowned kind of way or a I really didn’t feel like dealing with a legal inquisition if she drowned kind of way. But all thoughts of how Zach cared for her, if he cared at all, were pushed to the back of her mind when she saw that boat in the middle of the bayou.

  The weird sixth sense she relied on when she was hunting returned with full force, warning her this wasn’t good. She had to tell her fight-or-flight mode that she wasn’t doing anything wrong because every instinct told her to swing the boat around and make a run for it. Her breath caught in shock and a shiver worked its way down her spine. Fear, primal and harsh, slammed into her.

  Colette could have blamed her mom’s stories about her great-great-grandmother being a famous mambo in Haiti for her sudden and crippling belief that something bad was going to happen. She could have blamed the old tales of voodoo her mother told her, but she didn’t. No, this agent heralded something else.

  Danger. But she didn’t run. Instead, she let the boat coast up to the LDWF vessel, careful to keep a few feet between t
hem. Unless the warden asked for special permission to check out her boat, she wouldn’t make it easy for him.

  Zach’s head snapped around, drawing her attention. He scented the air and his eyes flashed pale yellow, the tiger peeking at her from his human face. That simple look helped calm her a little. She wasn’t alone and no one would be dumb enough to take on a tiger shifter, even if that someone was a wildlife agent. Right?

  But the agent didn’t look the least bit worried about Zach, ignoring the tiger shifter in favor of her. He was good-looking from close up, yet he did nothing for her. Even when he flashed her what she supposed was a charming, white-toothed smile, all she saw was a fox with a mouthful of feathers.

  “Y’all hunting today?” The drawled question was accompanied by him whipping off his sunglasses.

  “No sir.”

  Those cold eyes trailed over her as far as they could, a weird knowledge in them that left her feeling naked. Zach didn’t seem to appreciate it either, a harsh, warning growl rumbling in his throat. The agent glanced at the tiger shifter, seemingly unfazed by the obvious danger he was in. The two men stared at each other, an unspoken challenge passing back and forth.

  Colette could almost see the pissing contest going on, but she was left completely in the dark by their silence. All she knew was the longer they stared, the tenser the men became until they resembled solid blocks of stone.

  Hoping to get the fuck away from him, Colette did something her daddy said never to do. She engaged a warden in conversation. “Afternoon, Agent Roscoe,” she said after a quick glance at his name tag. “We’re just doing a little sightseeing. How can I help you?”

  He looked away from Zach to give her another smile, this one more playful than before. “Well now, you could help me by going out to dinner with me.”

  Her jaw dropped. She would’ve liked to say it was because in all her years of running into agents, she’d never had one ask her on a date, but the truth was, she’d never seen a man leap across a distance of five feet without preparing for it the way Zach did. He landed in the agent’s boat, rocking it with his sudden weight and launched himself at the other man like a freight train hurtling off a cliff. The two men toppled over, disappearing from her sight except for the occasional fist and foot as they fought. She didn’t know whether to cheer for Zach or to haul ass. She couldn’t believe he’d done that, even as she thought of ways to thank him with sexual favors for doing something she’d always wanted to do.