Tiger Bound

by Tressie Lockwood

  The waiter stopped by to pour them glasses of wine, and Heath asked for the bottle to be left. Deja raised her glass, and Heath clinked it with his. She smiled at him, but only the side of his mouth turned up in a lame effort.

  “I think I’ve lost my touch.” She pouted.

  His gaze shifted from the door to meet hers. “What do you mean?”

  “I used to have you cracking up on a daily basis. Now, you haven’t smiled for real in days. I want you to be happy, Heath.”

  “This isn’t—”

  “Don’t say that again.” She glanced around the room, but had to admit defeat. Nothing struck her as funny. No snarky comments about the patrons or life in general came to mind, and she faced him instead. “So you’re a tiger shifter. Is it easier to control now with each day that passes? You said you sniffed me out. Is that automatic or like turned on all the time?”

  At first, she thought he would tell her he didn’t want to talk about it, but then he downed the contents of his glass on a couple swallows and set it on the table. “It’s becoming more and more of who I am. Yes, I can smell, hear, and see better than before, but then I realized I could do that all along. It had been a part of my life from the beginning, so I didn’t know.”

  She leaned forward, eyes wide. “Really? So the pills didn’t completely block out the tiger?”

  “No.” He lowered his gaze to her breasts. “They dulled it, almost like keeping a beast drugged so he’s not very aware. But…now, I see things in vivid detail that I never noticed before. I smell…”

  Deja shifted in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. She knew he stared at the outline of her nipples through the thin material of her dress, and he must have smelled her excitement the moment she noticed him looking. She licked her lips, for some reason nervous all of a sudden.

  “So, you accept it, right? That you’re a tiger? You don’t hate yourself?”

  His eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “It never occurred to me to hate myself.”

  “I hope it still hasn’t.”

  He laid a hand over hers on the table, but then drew back as if she burned him. “You don’t have to worry about me, Deja. I’m fine.”

  “But you worry about me. Why shouldn’t I worry?” She hesitated. “I’m not sure where we stand, to be honest. Are we lovers? Are we friends?”

  “We’ll always be friends. You know that.”

  He didn’t say they were or always would be lovers. That hurt. She stuffed the emotions down and tried talking of other, less weighty topics. Heath spoke in monotone most of the time, frustrating the hell out of her. The rift between them appeared to grow wider instead of narrowing as she’d hoped during this dinner. She considered threatening him, saying she would go back home without him, but scrapped the idea. He might agree, and she’d be left at the mercy of her own bluff. She wouldn’t leave him, not when he needed her the most, even if he didn’t believe it.

  A short while later, their food arrived, and she concentrated on eating rather than conversation, which seemed okay with Heath. He shoveled bites into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed without emotion. Her exclamation about the veal being delicious went uncommented on, and she sighed.

  A ding sounded from her purse, and she put up a hand to cough, hoping he didn’t hear it. When she peered at him through her lashes, his focus lay in the direction of the door. She could get up and dance on the table and he might not notice for all the attention he paid her.

  Deja put her fork down, wiped her mouth, and pushed back her chair. She waited for Heath to say something or look at her, but when his eyes weren’t on his plate, they were glued to the door. She made a noise of annoyance and stood up. That’s when he noticed.

  “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

  He rose and nodded, but she ignored him and spun away. Once she was alone in a stall, she ripped her cell phone from her purse, heart slamming against her ribs. Her fingers shook as she stabbed the buttons to bring up her email. There had been a reply to her inquiry with the ad.

  “Oh goodness, oh goodness.” Calm down, Deja. It’s fine. Just read the damn thing.

  She swallowed and stared up at the ceiling rather than at her phone. This was a chance, hope that things would change and Heath might learn more about himself. The longer she didn’t look at the message and confirm whether the person was genuine, the longer she could hold on to that tiny spark. If she read the email and found out the person was an idiot or someone playing games, then she had nothing.

  Her stomach stirring and her throat dry, she took the plunge. The phone took its time to open the missive. “Thanks for contacting me. I have the information you need, but I think it’s better if we meet in person.”

  “What?” She stood up and burst from the stall to pace the small bathroom. “How you figure?” she griped. This person gave no clue that he was for real. For all she knew, it could be a psycho that wanted to off her the first chance he got. He might be a Spiderweb operative. Hell, he might just be another nut job looking for victims. She stalked back and forth, nibbling her thumbnail and rereading the note. What should she do? Give him a chance or forget the whole thing?

  Desperate to hold on to any little hope, she hit the reply button. “How do I know you’re for real or that you have any information at all?”

  She started to leave the bathroom when another ding stopped her. Damn, that was fast. The succinct message robbed her of breath. “Holmes was not a suicide.”

  Deja slumped against the sink and dipped her chin to her chest. She set her phone on the cold porcelain before she dropped it on the floor with her nerveless fingers. Okay, this was not a random person. However, it could be a third party who could help, or it might be Spiderweb. What now? She could tell Heath and let him make the decision of whether to take this further, but then with the way he was going, Heath would more likely yell at her for answering the ad, delete everything, and pack up to leave town. She couldn’t do it anymore. Taking a risk was better than running forever.

  Before she could decide anything further, her phone dinged once again. She picked it up and opened the email. “There are some who are on your side, those who fight against the Corporation. I know you’re afraid, and you might even be hurting because of what they did. Take the chance, and let us help you.”

  Deja raised her eyes from the small screen and stared at herself in the mirror. A raw ache started in her throat, and for the first time since this thing began, tears welled and fell down her cheeks. She’d ignored it all evening because she was so glad to be out of the room, but the pain had started up again. From the first bite of food, it grew worse, and she knew before long, she would not be able to stand and all she would be able to do was stay in bed or lay in the back seat of the car while Heath worried about her. Not again. She had to fight. Just like the person on the other end of the email said, she had to take a chance.

  After typing in a response that she needed to let him know, she splashed water on her face and grabbed a paper towel to dry it. Heath might be wondering if she was okay since she’d been in there so long. She had to get back. When she left the bathroom, she discovered she’d been right. He was heading toward her, a frown creasing the space between his eyebrows. Deja pasted a bright smile on her face and linked her arm with his. “You miss me?”

  “Deja, are you okay? You were in there a long time.”

  “So did you miss me?”

  He guided her to her seat and kept a hand on her arm until she was fully comfortable. “Yes, I missed you.”

  She couldn’t help the happiness that rose inside her, but she had to get information from him. “Heath?”

  “Yes?”

  Pain stirred in her belly, and she had to clench her hand into a fist to keep from rubbing it. “Can we stay here longer than the other places? I’m really liking what I’ve seen so far. This town is similar to home. Maybe a few weeks at least? After all, we haven’t even come across any police reports or whatever saying we�
��re wanted. Either Spiderweb doesn’t want us on the police’s radar, or someone else smothered it.”

  He frowned, staring at her. “What do you mean someone else?”

  “Nothing. Um, nobody. I’m just saying, I don’t think we’re wanted, or just like the doctor, our faces would have been slapped all over the news.”

  He appeared to consider what she said, and Deja held her breath. Would he agree? Could she make arrangements for them to meet the person who claimed to have information, or would they run forever? When she’d left the bathroom and saw the worry on Heath’s face, she knew she wouldn’t tell him. Not until she had something concrete.

  He sighed. “I know it’s been hard on you, Deja. I’ve been hard on you, and I’m sorry. Yes, I worry about you, and at any time, you could get sick again.” The pain in his eyes ripped her apart. “And the worst of it is I don’t know how to protect you. If I could get my claws into the ones who did this to you, I would kill them without hesitation.”

  Deja lowered her head, feeling tears come on again. Damn, first she couldn’t cry. Now she couldn’t stop. Heath was sweet, caring so deeply about her, and she wanted to jump in his arms and kiss him for it, but that would just encourage the man’s crazy.

  “I don’t need protection, Heath. I can take care of myself.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  He signaled for the waiter and paid the bill when it came. She wondered how much money Tate had left on the card for him. Tate wanting to protect Heath and his mother blew her mind. He’d gone so far as to deny his level of intelligence and lived a simple life in a small town. Then again, he must also have taken regular pay from Spiderweb to live because it was for sure that story about working at a car manufacturing plant was a lie. Did Heath ever think of it, that the money he spent now had been provided by the corporation that made him what he was and essentially killed his parents? She decided not to mention it.

  Heath held her arm as they left the restaurant, and she waited at the curb while he pulled the car around from its parking spot. Out of habit, she guessed, Heath scanned the street and then helped her into the passenger side. Once they were moving, he answered her earlier question.

  “I want you to be happy, Deja, so we’ll stay here for the time being. If things get hairy, we’ll leave.”

  “Maybe I can get a job.” She needed to get out more.

  “No.”

  “That’s not your decision.”

  “I have enough money to take care of us both.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “How much?”

  They reached the room they rented within minutes, less than twenty. Heath stopped and switched off the engine, but he didn’t move to get out of the car. His gaze alighted on the steps leading to their living quarters, and his nostrils flared slightly, but he didn’t appear any more alert than usual.

  “Enough,” he repeated. “At first, I considered whether I wanted to use it, knowing he got it from those bastards that made you ill.” He touched her cheek, and she turned into it, kissing his palm. A tear dropped onto his hand when she didn’t mean for it to. “Deja.”

  “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She sniffed and turned away, but he reached across and unbuckled her seatbelt then pulled her onto his lap.

  “You think I can’t tell when you’re getting ill again?”

  “Uh…” Damn, she thought she’d hidden it.

  He laid his hand on her thigh, and she squirmed. Under her ass, his cock hardened. He skimmed his hand a little higher so that her dress rose. When he put his lips against her ear, she shivered.

  “And the next time you go out with no panties on, you better be prepared for the consequences.”

  “I―I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come upstairs, and you’ll see.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  More often than not, Heath chided himself about his desire for Deja. He wanted her twenty-four-seven, and he didn’t deny it—at least to himself. He tried to hide it from her. He psyched himself out and kept his gaze focused on something safe, something other than her sexy ass or her luscious breasts and thighs. Just thinking of her body in any capacity drove him insane. What made it worse was that he convinced himself when she was out of the woods healthwise, he wouldn’t see her anymore. She deserved better than him, some half-animal, half-human.

  He was by no means down on who he was. He accepted it and had come to terms that he was born this way, so changing back probably wouldn’t happen. Yet, he desired better for Deja, his sweet, beautiful Deja. No, not mine. Damn it all, she can never really be mine.

  What also pissed him off, and it might be because the tiger lived in him—he had no one to ask and nothing to compare it to—but he wanted Deja more when she wasn’t at her strongest. He should be ashamed that his erection couldn’t be denied when he knew she grew tired and needed her rest. Yet, here he was in their room, staring down at her lovely body and feasting his eyes on her nipples, the way they puckered and grew taut because he played with them.

  When he raised her leg to take in her juicy pussy, he lost all rationality. What existed except this woman? What danger? His whole being should focus on tasting her, on lapping up her tangy come, raising her hips and gorging himself between her thighs. He did as his lust directed and sucked at her nether lips. Mercy, she tasted good, and that little bud, so stiff and swollen, beckoned for him to take it into his mouth and suck until she screamed. No, I can’t.

  He sat up from her and caught the quiver in her thighs. He should let her sleep, especially when he’d seen her fight the pain during dinner. He’d seen the blood drain from her lovely complexion. She’d clenched her hands into fists on her lap, hoping he didn’t see since they were below eye level. All of that had to do with what he saw, but she could not know how much he smelled and what he sensed. The tiger missed nothing, and didn’t even try.

  “Please, Heath. It feels better when you make love to me,” she whispered. She reached for his hand, and he let her lace her fingers with his. Their connection sent sparks of awareness from where they touched on up his arm and into the center of his being. The wildness in him stirred, the hunger becoming unmanageable.

  Was that it? Did he make her feel better when he touched her and therefore craved it more as a way to protect her? No, he would not accept that. The excuse gave him too much credit when lust drove him, pure and simple.

  Heath captured her leg again and raised it high. He watched her pussy open and even her ass cheeks spread. His cock twitched, ready for entry, but he hadn’t taken his clothes off. He’d wanted a barrier to help him to tell himself no. Nothing worked so far.

  He kissed the soft skin at her ankle and stuck his tongue out to have a taste. She moaned softly, and he watched her hips move, the cream trailing out. Heath wanted to stay where he was and take his time to work up her body, but he couldn’t resist sticking a finger between her folds and snaking it up her channel. He dipped deep, pushing until his knuckle and other fingers stopped him from going farther. She rotated her hips. He pulled his finger free and stuck it into his mouth. A moan escaped him as he licked the digit clean. He wanted more.

  “You’re so wet, Deja. I’m going to have to clean you up.”

  “If you must.” She’d cast her voice low, and its sultry sound made his staff twitch. He released her leg and squeezed her ass and the beginning of her thighs. Parting the soft flesh, he feasted his eyes on her. Her rear entry spread for him, and he played with the opening with his thumb. She murmured his name, her lashes fluttered closed. Every inch of her called to him, and he had no choice but to answer the call. Something stirred within, a famine that only Deja could take away.

  Heath bent down and kissed her flat belly. When he did, an image flashed in his mind of Deja with a swollen belly. He frowned and shook his head. This was not the time for pointless dreams and visions. Nothing would keep him from having her. He almost chuckled, realizing he’d come to the conclusion that fighting the desire mean
t nothing. He would lose every time.

  He sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Deja opened her eyes. He started at their pale color, but when she blinked, they were their usual chocolate. Perhaps he’d imagined it. “Are you okay?” he asked as he pushed the shirt from his shoulders. The tail end of his words were rough, and he knew it had to do with his being turned on. “You can take me?”

  She smirked as she always did when she thought he challenged her, which he was not doing right now. “Of course. You think you’re too big for me?”

  “I might be a bit rough.” He placed a palm on her stomach, and a growl stirred in his throat. Control, tiger. She’s worth more than your life. Don’t hurt her.

  “She’s my mate. Mine!”

  “Heath? What’s wrong?” Deja sat up and touched his chest, concern in her gaze. “What is it? You stopped moving all of a sudden.”

  He forced a smile. “Nothing, baby. Come here.”

  She slipped closer, and he lifted her chin to kiss her lips. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he tangled his fingers in her hair and drew her into his arms. All he could think of was consuming her, taking it all, tasting every part, and slaking his need with her body. He laid her down and stretched his length over her. When his cock strained against his boxers, he kissed along her throat and captured a nipple between his teeth as he ripped the button off his pants and yanked the zipper down.

  “I need to be inside you.” He nipped her tiny bud, and she whimpered. “Open your legs, Deja.”

  He shoved his pants over his hips and didn’t wait until he could kick them off before he dragged her legs apart and thrust into her heat. He clamped down on the growl and clenched his jagged teeth as he sank deeper. Her inner walls swallowed his cock like they never intended for it to escape. He had to pause to catch his breath or he’d let go before either of them was ready.