When she was out floating on the paddle board in the canal, her balance was perfect, she spoke in even, modulated tones. It was like…
…her tooth ran over the edge of his cockhead, pulling him back into the moment.
God, he wanted to fuck her. Hand and mouth… no matter what the level of expertise… just wasn’t enough. He wanted her on her hands and knees. He wanted her straddling him, riding him till their scents blended and their breathing and heartbeats combined in the same wild tempo. He wanted her taste in his mouth; he wanted her belly full…
Oh shit. His animal purred and stretched, rumbling at his inattention. Her eyes went wide as she paused, and then she focused on him again. She laved his shaft with her tongue, gripping him at the base, guiding him fully into the warmth of her mouth. As he’d ordered earlier, she sucked. Hard. A cry tore from his throat and damn! He wouldn’t last another minute. She’d yanked every bit of self-control from him, and he hadn’t seen her skin or touched her body.
His fingers curled into her hair, pulling her away, up to her feet. Her hand replaced her mouth, fingers sliding over his skin. Antonio slipped his fingers over the bare curve of her waist, fumbling for the catch to her shorts. Sliding his hand down, he groaned at the silky strength of her buttocks. Reaching farther, he slid his fingers through her crevice, meeting the wet silk of her arousal. She jerked in response and he pulled her forward till she straddled his knee; within seconds, she was grinding against his thigh. Once he was satisfied she was pleasuring herself as equally as she was pleasuring him, he ran a hand up her belly, finding the soft globes of her breasts.
He had no finesse to call upon, no reserves of control. They were straining against one another, growling gently, moaning softly. Her hand pumped his shaft even as she thrust against him, and Antonio knew they teetered on the edge of something. Something shining and wonderful and exquisitely dangerous.
She let out a cry of frustration and the shorts were gone, her bikini bottoms were off, dangling around one ankle. She climbed his body as though he was a tree. Her hands tugged at his jacket, his shaft firmly clasped first by her hand, and then by the wet heat of her body. He gasped as she rode him, working herself until he was buried and snug and it was all he could do to hold himself upright. Bodies labored together, hips churned and their mouths met, lips clashing, tongues dueling for dominance.
Helplessly, Antonio slid down the wall, not caring that the rough plaster tore at the fine linen of his jacket or that she was next to naked, sharing it all with the world. He landed on the wooden dock, Coco still astride and fucking him hard. Their kiss broke and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breath hot against his skin. The tension in her body warned him she was close. He wanted to breach her ass with his fingers; he wanted to lick and kiss and bite her nipples, but all he could do was let his animal free to taste and bask in the sensation of the most riveting sex he’d ever had.
Short nails scored the skin of his chest and belly and fine hairs stood up all over his body. The pressure of the climax grew until he felt it from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. He fought and battled himself, holding it back, arching up into her as deeply as he could reach. When the first warning spasms began in her channel, his body responded. Their harsh cries mingled together and he was helpless against the wave of sensation crashing through him.
On top of him, Coco gripped him with hands and knees, freezing like a statue in the last, gripping moments of her orgasm. Even as her muscles went loose and she collapsed atop him, Antonio felt the last of the seed burst from his cock. And he felt something else… something unexpected. Something that should never happen during a casual fuck. He groaned and fell back against the wall, his arms wrapped around Coco’s slender body. When she tried to draw away, he tightened his arm around her. He panted, shivering as small spasms continued to shatter his senses.
“Give it a few.” He wasn’t certain if what he felt was real, but decided not to risk it just in case.
“You aren’t knotted. I’d know it. Besides, that usually happens during breeding.” Still, she didn’t try to move and Antonio breathed a sigh of relief.
Why the fuck had that happened? His animal had nearly rolled over for her. Even now, under her touch, it was more relaxed and content then he’d ever remembered. He looped an arm around her, doing his best to shield her from anyone who might see. Thankfully, it was now dusk and visibility wasn’t good.
Coco groaned and sat up, looking down at him slightly drunkenly. “You’re still hard.”
“Like I said, give me a few minutes.”
She frowned and then lifted her body, gasping as they came apart. “Ow! What the… what was that?” She scooted back, looking at his semi erect cock. Without a microscope, there’d be nothing there to see. Not now, anyway. She reached down, giving him a stroke.
“We had sex without a condom.” She looked at him and blinked. “I imagine you don’t carry any disease.”
“I don’t. And you aren’t fertile.” Yet. That little anatomical anomaly of his would coax her along. If they had sex again, and Antonio prayed they would, he’d be more careful.
Shakily, she found her bottoms and stepped into them. She didn’t bother with the shorts, letting them hang over her arm. “What the hell happened? I know that wasn’t a knot. It didn’t hurt, but it could have, if I’d moved too soon.” She was rising to her feet and Antonio began to put himself back in order. He rose to his feet, tucking his shirt back into his pants.
“Barbs.”
She took a step away from him, looking up. She was a tiny thing, really; maybe five-foot-two to his six-three. In the fading light, he couldn’t quite make out the expression on her face, but her scent was unmistakable: sweat and sex and the sudden bite of fear.
“Barbs?” she whispered. “As in… Antonio… Siberians don’t have barbs; we have knots… but only when we breed.”
Siberian? She was a Siberian? Why couldn’t he sense her animal? A few missing facts rolled into place.
“Didn’t say what kind of Siberian I am, did I?” He grinned, knowing his fangs were slightly distended. “The barbs are to coax the female into heat, if she’s not already there. They don’t really hurt; it’s just a bit uncomfortable for the tigress. Most women find it incredibly exciting.”
“Tiger? A Siberian… tiger?” she squeaked. “I just fucked a… and you…” She took another step back, closer to the edge of the dock. She grew steadier, her voice was firmer. More decisive. The rough edge of fear was still there.
“Well, Antonio the Tiger. Tony!” Her laugh had a hysterical edge. Antonio stepped forward, reaching out, but she took another step away. “This was lovely. I’d love to do it again, or exchange cell numbers, but I don’t have one. So maybe I’ll just see you around.”
Before he could respond, she leaped, twisting in the air as she descended. It was a thing of sheer beauty. She hit her board, kicking off the dock and scooping up her paddle all in the same movement. She was skimming across the canal within a heartbeat.
“Coco!” He ran, not willing to go into the water, but unable to simply watch her fade into the darkness. Something tore inside his chest, and the cat made a sound of rage and horror. Antonio went down on his knees at the knowledge of what had just happened. His tiger had just mated a half-crazy Siberian husky. And true to her kind, she’d run. He fisted his hands, pounding them on the wooden planks of the dock.
He was so fucked. His poor, clueless little Siberian was in an even worse spot. Tigers were obsessive once they were mated. And they were monogamous. Coco didn’t know it, but she was stuck with him for the rest of their lives.
Chapter Five
As she approached her home, Coco dropped to her belly on the board, keeping the bundled shorts above the water. She angled the board and paddle and glided under the slight opening in the corrugated steel wall of the boat house. During high tide, the small entrance vanished, but as the tide was going out, she had plenty of space to scrap
e through without taking skin off her ass.
Inside, the darkness was broken by a small light on a wall, giving the cavernous space a green, watery appearance. She rose to her knees and headed toward the slip at the end, maneuvering the board between an elegant jet boat and the wooden dock. She scrambled up the wooden ladder and stored her board away.
Her makeshift home was a small equipment shed over by the wall. The owner of the shop had cleared it out for her, letting her squat in the boathouse as long as she worked it off by doing janitorial work and teaching the occasional kiteboarding class. She had everything she needed here. A small cooler for her drinks and snacks, a cot and bedding against the wall. There was a biohazard shower and a toilet inside the store. She could slip in any time after hours for bathing. She tossed her shorts and the file she’d pilfered on the bed and grabbed a towel, running in for a quick wash.
She needed to shower, to wash his scent and seed from her body, but Coco was reluctant to do so. The odd sound he’d made as she’d rushed away still tore at her gut; a glance back over her shoulder had revealed Antonio dropping to his knees in the dusk. With a sigh, she showered, toweled down and found a T-shirt to sleep in. Back in her little den, she grabbed a bottle of juice and a protein bar, and then flopped down onto her cot.
The file had been badly maimed during their little altercation, and now had a few water spots on it. But it was still readable. She scanned the info on the missing lawyer, then turned to the more interesting details about the jailed vampire. When she finished reading, she lay back on the cot, watching the shadows on the roof, and listening to the water lapping against the wooden docking beneath her. It had to be the loneliest sound in the world. After a few moments, tears slipped from her eyes.
“Don’t be stupid.” She wiped the tears away with the edge of the T-shirt. Like everything she owned, it had been salvaged from a lost and found pile somewhere. Nothing she possessed was her own, except maybe her name. Maybe.
Rolling onto her side, she thought about the vampire and the tiger and the Siberian who was looking for his sister. It hadn’t occurred to her that someone might be looking for her. She’d spent so much time wrangling with her addled brain it had never occurred to her that her family might worry. Her friends might be searching for her. Pulling the thin blanket over her body, she tucked her knees up tightly to her body. She wrapped her arms around herself, deliberately letting her mind go blank and her body numb. That was the only way she had of coping these days. The sound of water against wood and the light scent of tiger lulled her to sleep.
Chapter Six
“Hi honey, I’m home.”
Coco froze briefly at the whisper in her ear. She lunged from the cot… or she tried to. Something very large and heavy pinned her legs in place. Fear turned to blind panic and she struggled in the darkness, striking out, completely silent in her battle with the intruder. One hand connected with something hard, and the attacker cursed.
“Coco, knock it off! Be still!”
The command resonated through the small space, and against her instincts, Coco went still. Both of her wrists were wrapped in a powerful grip. Her mouth dropped open and she panted in fear. She heard fumbling, objects falling to the floor, and then her little lantern flickered to life. There, straddling her legs, was Antonio Silva. A streak of red marked his jaw where she’d connected. As soon as she saw the abrasion, her hand began to throb in pain.
“Ssshhh… you’re okay, kitten. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was still low and rumbly, and her heart slowed while she was getting control of her lungs. The panic ebbed, to be replaced by anger. Still, fear outweighed the fury and she kept her mouth shut. It had been days since she’d taken the file, and she’d slowly been relaxing, wondering if she’d see the big tiger again.
Antonio looked around her shed, he face carefully blank. When he looked back at her, she thought maybe she saw a flicker of pity lurking in his expression. That was enough to ignite the anger. Fear melted to the back of her mind, and to her annoyance, a thread of excitement shot through her. Of course, he was probably just after her for his file. He’d fucked her. He was undoubtedly finished with Coco.
“What are you doing here? This is private property!” She tugged at her wrists but he didn’t budge. “How’d you get in? Cats don’t do water.”
“The front doorway. You know, most businesses have doors for customers to walk in if they don’t happen to have a paddle board.” His hands remained around her wrists, but his gaze roved her body, a light of hunger in his eyes. So pity wasn’t enough -- now he wanted her? She bucked, managing to do little other than simulate sex, which wasn’t the intention at all.
“Could you please… get off?”
For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her, and then he lifted slightly, giving her some breathing space.
“Please. I like hearing you beg.” His voice was a rumbled whisper, his accent was honey sweet. Instead of setting her free, he leaned forward, his face just inches from hers. Suddenly, she remembered just what he was and what he was capable of doing. She went very still, her eyes wide in fear.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Coco.” Easing back even further, he kept her legs pinned. He reached out, stroking her cheek gently. “What happened to you, baby?”
Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard. What had happened? She wasn’t completely certain. She frowned, vaguely remembering another life, one lived in comfortable surroundings and safety. She looked up into Antonio’s eyes, noting in the dim light they looked tawny and golden, reminding her of his feline origins. This time, she wasn’t quite so frightened of him. After all, he hadn’t hurt her.
But he could.
“You’re dangerous.”
He smiled gently. “I am dangerous, but not to you, Coco. Never to you.” He ran the tip of his finger over her lips. “Such odd eyes. So beautiful.”
She blinked in confusion. “Why are they beautiful?”
“One blue, one green.”
Beautiful? She’d taken to hiding, wearing contact lenses to mute and hide the color. Tears started and she blinked them away. She struggled to sit upright, and he lifted slightly, helping her to lean back against the wall. When he lowered himself again, he straddled her lower legs. Gracefully, Antonio scooped up the stolen file from the floor. He studied it for a moment, and then looked at her.
“Why did you take this?”
She shrugged. In truth, she couldn’t explain the impulse. But she should at least try to be honest. “I was curious. You’re looking for someone.”
“I am. Would you like to hear more about what I do?” When she nodded, he continued. “I’m a private investigator.”
“I thought you were a model.” She ducked her head, hiding a slight smile. She suspected that part of his past annoyed him. A huff of breath told her she’d scored a hit, however small.
“Once I was. Now I’m an investigator.”
She wondered if people took him seriously, with his high fashion clothing and pretty boy appearance. Most likely not. Just like they didn’t take a crazy street woman seriously. He shuffled the paper, doing his best to flatten out the creases.
“How long you been a PI?” She looked at him skeptically. He was way too expensively dressed for an investigator. He must be living off earnings from his past career. And she was right on the mark. His cheeks flushed slightly.
“I got my license about a year ago. My office is in Seattle.”
“Oookay.” She supposed there weren’t many paranormal private investigators wandering around. He was definitely in a niche market.
“A fellow came to me… a co-worker. His sister has gone missing. She’s a lawyer.” He tucked the papers back into the dog-eared file. “He can’t be here in Miami to search for her himself, so our employer agreed to foot the bill, as he has need of her services.” He sat back slightly, putting a slight amount of pressure on her legs, reminding Coco she was at his mercy. Instead of fear, a slight thrill ran through he
r. Now that she knew he’d give her space, she was beginning to enjoy this game.
“What’s all this to me?” She glanced away, pushing the heavy cords of hair from her face. She was hungry and had to pee. She also knew he wasn’t going to let her move until he was damned well ready.
“Most likely nothing. I was just hoping maybe you’d seen her around.” He reached into his jacket, pulling out a photograph. He studied it for a moment, and then looked at her face. “I was hoping you know our missing woman. She’s from Ft. Lauderdale. Her name’s Chloe O’Shea.”
For a moment, her ears rang and her stomach lurched. He turned the photo around so she could see the image of a pretty, professional woman. She smiled up at Coco from the paper, daring her to speak, to share her secret. Seconds passed as she studied the image. The woman had grey-blue eyes and dark red hair. Her skin was like ivory, an oddity in this climate. She probably got a weekly manicure and drove a red BMW with the top down as she cruised in to work from her condo near the ocean. She probably shifted into her Siberian form every Sunday evening, grounding herself for the days spent in meetings and depositions.
Coco sighed and leaned back to study the face of the man she’d just met. Not a man, a tiger; one who was completely and totally integrated with his human.
“I don’t know her.”
Disappointment flickered in his eyes and he slipped the photo back into his pocket. “Would you like to hear more?”
Would she? She glanced at the file, remembering the tantalizing hints of the vampire’s case. How’d she end up in jail? Vamps were notoriously talented at getting away with pretty much everything. She’d screwed up and had been charged with murder.
“Can I use the bathroom first?”
Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? Page 3