by Cara Bristol
“Hey, I need to wear that home,” she protested but wiggled out of her pants.
“Not anytime soon.” He leered.
She parried with a glance that was pure sex. “Are you planning on a repeat of Vegas?”
“Oh, no. That was the warm-up act.”
“Tell me more.” She wrapped her hands around his erection, the stroke an almost-painful pleasure.
He pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m going to start by kissing every inch of your body, and then I’m going to lick your pussy until you come, and then I’m going to fill you with my cock and…”
“Ooh, baby, talk dirty to me.”
“It’s not talk—it’s a promise.”
“I like a man of his word.” She turned her head, and their lips met in a searing kiss.
His mating glands released a surge of pheromones, and he shuddered. He was a man of his word, but following through with the promise would require all his self-control. Desire clawed through him, demanding release. His balls ached, and his swollen cock throbbed.
He dragged his mouth from her lips to her throat, taking care not to accidentally pierce her flesh with his saber teeth. Lust pounded through him, but he took his time reacquainting himself with her body. He cupped her breasts and teased the nipples to greater hardness with his mouth.
His thigh rested between her legs, and she rocked her hips, rubbing her wet pussy against his leg, making his own desire spiral higher. The musk of her arousal perfumed his senses, and he could taste the fragrance of her arousal. He pressed a searing kiss to her mouth as he slipped his hand between her thighs. He toyed with the wet curls before seeking out the nub and massaging. Kat moaned and rocked against his hand.
“You’re killing me. Stop teasing!”
Tigre laughed and then choked when she grasped his cock and pumped. Copious precum pearled from the crown, and tension and heat built at the base of his shaft. Close to spilling himself, he pulled away and scooted downward. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and covered her pussy with his mouth, fluttering his tongue over the sensitive nub while slipping a finger into her tight channel.
Her taste exploded in his mouth as her muscles contracted around his finger. He slipped a second digit inside her.
“Oh God, oh God.” She pounded on his shoulders with her fists. “I’m so close. I’m going to come.”
He growled and teased with his tongue while pumping his fingers. He watched her face contort in ecstasy as an orgasm rolled through her. Her hips came off the bed, and she thrust herself against his mouth, her pussy clamping around his fingers.
He waited until the contractions subsided before releasing her. His cock throbbed an insistent beat. His blood flamed. He grabbed her hips and started to roll her over to mount her, but, with a sly smile, she slipped out of reach.
“My turn.” She nudged him onto his back and licked at his nipple before trailing her tongue down his chest and abdomen. Her hand closed around his girth and then she took him into her mouth. Herian! Pleasure ignited his blood and sizzled through him in waves. She cupped and gently squeezed his balls. She left no part of him untouched. She traced the stripes around his shaft and swirled her tongue around the crown. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.
Heated pressure crested to an imminent orgasm. “I need you now.” He started to position her on her knees, but she pressed him against the pillows and straddled his hips. Her tight, wet sheath enclosed him, and he growled, sucking in a gasp of air. Sensation spiked when she raised and lowered herself onto his erection. Her breasts jiggled a tempting invitation. He cupped the mounds, gently pinching the peaks. Her beautiful face contorted in ecstasy. He’d only ever mounted a female from behind, but oh, yes, he could appreciate the benefits of front to front.
It didn’t take long before the climax consumed them both. His hips pounded into her as she thrust herself faster and faster on his cock. She cried out, arching and convulsing. Tigre bellowed as pleasure and pressure centered in his dick and then exploded in a paroxysm of almost-unbearable ecstasy.
Panting, Kat collapsed atop him. Residual tremors caused her pussy to flutter around his still-hard cock. He massaged her perspiration-slick spine in soothing strokes and pressed light kisses to her damp hair. Perspiration soaked his own mane. Their sexual musk filled the room like a fog; her scent infused his sensory organs. He’d never felt more emotionally complete or joyful, but the heat still burned; his cock remained raging hard.
Kat wiggled and squeezed him tight. She lifted her head and sought his gaze. A happy smile played on her lips. “Well, that took the edge off.”
“Just the edge?”
She nodded. “I’m still horny.”
Tigre grinned. “Round two?”
* * * *
Kat peeled her eyelids open to sunlight glaring through the parted curtains. She turned her head on the pillow to find Tigre propped on an elbow. “Well, well, look who woke up.” He grinned.
“What time is it?”
“Tenish.”
“Ten o’clock?” she gasped. She never slept that late—then again, they’d spent more time boinking than sleeping during the night. How many times had they gone at it? Five or six, at least. She stretched, feeling a satisfying protest in every single muscle. She would hobble like a bowlegged cowboy. Totally worth it.
She smiled at Tigre. Whiskers twitched as he flashed his fangs in a crooked grin. Damn, he is handsome. “You look good in the morning,” she said.
“You look even better.”
She patted her matted, tangled hair. It had still been wet when they’d gone to sleep. After humping like sex-crazed rabbits for hours, they’d hosed off in the shower and then tumbled into bed and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. “With this case of bedhead?”
“That’s why. You look rumpled, and I’m the one who rumpled you,” he boasted.
“Proud of yourself much?” Her lips twitched.
His wicked sense of humor was only one of many positive traits. Once she’d stopped fighting the fever and her attraction, she’d discovered he had many admirable qualities—intelligence, fairness, determination. A lighthearted and fun side balanced his intensity. He was giving and generous in bed—not to mention talented.
“If you’re sore, the med pod can relieve the pain,” he suggested.
Muscles protested as she turned to face him. She stroked the raised, slightly rough stripes on his cheek. “I’m good. The soreness reminds me of what we shared together. I’m sorry I was so snippy when we met and all the times afterward.” She wouldn’t quibble or keep score any longer. It didn’t matter who had done what to whom. Possibly she had dissed him first, since she’d learned not all growls were the same. What used to piss her off, now turned her on.
The heat of the fever had muted to a warm glow of affection. She could get used to waking up like this. While she didn’t consider their marriage to be legit—she hadn’t been in any condition to make that kind of decision—it had served the purpose of drawing them closer. Time would tell whether he was as trustworthy as he appeared, but she’d decided to give him the benefit of the doubt in the meantime.
“It was my fault. I did growl at you,” he apologized.
“You’re sexy when you growl.” She smiled.
“You say that now.”
“I mean it.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “It just took me a while to come around.” She sniffed. “Is that bacon and coffee I smell?”
“I think Meadow has fixed breakfast. You want to go downstairs and get some?”
Her stomach rumbled since she’d skipped dinner, more preoccupied with humping than eating. “I would,” she admitted. “Meadow won’t mind? She’s Psy’s, uh, mate, right?”
“No, she won’t mind, and yes, she’s Psy’s genmate. She loves to cook, and since none of us know how, it’s a good arrangement.” He raised his hands. “Just so you don’t assume we’re taking advantage of her—my brothers and I do the
cleanup and the shopping. She tells us what to get, and we buy it.”
Was she that transparent? She had been thinking Meadow might be the ’Topians’ Snow White. Kat twisted her mouth in a self-deprecating smile. “Sounds like an equitable arrangement.” She slid out of bed and grabbed her purple T-shirt. Another one bites the dust. He had torn it from collar to hem. Maybe she could tie it and wear it as a halter top? She’d flash a lot of skin, but it might be okay. “You’re hard on my wardrobe,” she said without rancor while recalling the destruction of her best dress. She found her bra and undies and donned them.
He slid out of bed, and she stopped dressing to admire his tight buns, muscular thighs, and twitching furry tail as he moved to a tall dresser and pulled out some underwear. He handed her a blue T-shirt. “Sorry. I’ll exercise more restraint the next time.”
“You’re already planning a next time?” she joked as she donned the borrowed garment. His shirt fell to almost her knees.
“You’re not?” he asked quietly, a worried light in his amber eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She slid her arms around his waist. “Yes, I am. Well, I mean, not planning as in scheduling in ink or anything, but yes, I’d kind of figured we were headed that direction.”
“Oh, good.” He smiled then, looking happy, boyish, and so adorable, her heart flip-flopped, and her sore pussy clenched. Next time might be sooner than we think.
He pulled on a pair of boxers, putting the fly to the back.
“Uh, you have those on backward. The opening goes in front,” she said.
“I need the opening for my tail.” He turned around and wagged his furry tail sticking out of the fly. “I have to have my pants altered, but the shorts work fine like this.”
“Have you always worn your shorts that way?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Huh.” So much for her powers of observation. She hadn’t noticed his boxers were on backward when she’d torn them off him in Vegas. Of course, she’d been under the influence of feral fever and vodka.
Decently covered, they went downstairs. His two roommate brothers and their wives sat in the great room, their snack trays laden with dirty plates. They’d already eaten.
“There you are!” Psy boomed. “We wondered if you were going to sleep all day.”
“Uh, hi.” She gave a self-conscious wave. In Tigre’s voluminous T-shirt, her hair a total wreck, she looked like something Amanda Blake had dragged in. In her entire life, she’d never had to face a date’s roommates the morning after. Still, this beat running through a hotel in a sheet.
Everyone greeted her, and then Meadow said, “I left a couple of breakfast plates in the oven for you guys.”
“Thank you,” she said, still feeling conspicuous. “That was very nice of you. How did you know I’d be here?”
“Are you kidding?” Inferno smirked. “We heard you two all night long.”
Her face flamed. Oh my God.
Tigre’s growl had little effect on Inferno’s smirk. His mate’s jabbing elbow, however, wiped the grin from his face.
“Inferno, stop messing with her!” Geneva ordered and then looked at Kat. “He’s joking. Nobody heard anything. Tigre’s hover scooter is in the barn.” She jutted her chin at the keys and ID on the coffee table. “We noticed your stuff. That’s how we knew both of you were here,” she reassured her, but Kat wasn’t convinced. She did recall screaming Tigre’s name. Repeatedly.
“Let’s get our plates,” Tigre suggested, and she welcomed the escape.
“I’m sorry my brother embarrassed you,” he said in the kitchen. “I intend to teach him some manners later.”
An atavistic thrill raced through her that he would defend her honor in such a physical way, but civility and common sense prevailed. “No, don’t do that. Besides, I did arrest him, so I suppose fair is fair.” But they were even now.
After retrieving plates piled high with bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and toast and pouring themselves some coffee, they returned to the other room. Folding trays had been set up for them in front of the long sofa.
“Hey, Kat, I’m sorry for what I said. I was trying to be funny, but I was out of line,” Inferno said. “I don’t always think before I speak.”
“Apology accepted. No problem.” She had a hunch Geneva and perhaps a few others might have influenced the apology, but she decided to not overthink the situation. She set her plate on the tray and scooted onto the sofa next to Tigre.
Although ravenous, she doubted she could finish such a huge mound of food. And her arteries would not be thanking her later. Still, the breakfast was delicious—the bacon crisp, the eggs fluffy, and the hash browns golden. “This is really good. Thank you.” She sipped her black coffee.
“You’re welcome,” Meadow said. “You had to work it, and weren’t able to have fun, but what did you think of the Lavender Fest?”
“I enjoyed it. Working security is easier than my day job.” She grinned. “I’d heard about the fest last year, but I was on duty and couldn’t attend.”
“Kevanne said the crowd was twice as large as last year’s,” Meadow said.
Geneva nodded. “Lavender Bliss Farm has become a local tourist attraction. The gift shop is busy all the time. The gazebo is booked for weddings a year in advance now—of course, Trenton setting fire to the church contributed to that. After reconstruction is finished in a couple of weeks, and people can get married in the church again, Kevanne figures the bookings will decrease a little.”
“The Lavender Fest was a lot more involved than I had anticipated with the carnival, the circus acts, and the game booths.” Kat had expected a low-key outdoor fair with vendors hawking lavender products and homemade handicrafts—of course, there’d been that, too.
“Kevanne put on the carnival originally so we ’Topians could be ourselves, not have to wear disguises or camouflage,” Inferno explained.
Tigre nodded. “Last year, Inferno and I made balloon animals for the kids. Because of how we looked, everyone assumed we were clowns. Wingman pretended to be an acrobat attached to a harness, but really he was freely flying. However, after we assimilated into the community and Argent accepted us as we are, we dropped the pretense. But the carnival had been a hit, so…” He shrugged.
“It’s terrible that Kevanne and Cam’s house got broken into!” Geneva said. “Do you have any updates? Any leads? Are you any closer to catching who did it?”
“I wish we were.” Kat shook her head. “So far, nothing. Kevanne and Cam provided a list with serial numbers, but so far, the local pawnshops haven’t received any of the items. The break-in wasn’t random or opportunistic but part of a rash of country burglaries. We suspect an organized group is casing locations, learning people’s habits, and then hitting the home when the residents are gone.
“Eventually, we’ll get a good lead, or they’ll screw up, and we’ll get them. The department has formed a task force,” she said. Come Monday—tomorrow—she’d been assigned to head up the task force with solving the burglaries her sole focus. With a now-clear head, she could give the assignment her full attention.
“I hope you catch them soon!” Geneva said vehemently. “Argent is a great place to live, a safe town. I hate seeing big city problems creep in. It’s horrible when anybody is victimized, but when it’s somebody you care about, it gets personal.”
Meadow nodded. “When I was a baby, I got kidnapped from my birth mother and brainwashed by a jealous Verital. Psy helped me recover my memories and reunite with my real parents. So, I know from experience how critical safety is. It’s paramount—more important than food or shelter.”
Psy nodded. “That’s what brought us ’Topians to Earth—the need for refuge after the Xenos destroyed our planet. We fled because we needed to be safe.” He looked at Kat. “That’s why what you do is so very important—you help to make people safe. If we had had a galactic police force, the Xenos wouldn’t have been able to destroy
’Topia. They would have been stopped.”
“So what we’re saying is, thank you for your service,” Inferno said. Then he winked. “And no hard feelings.”
“Thank you.” She felt humbled by their regard. “I can speak for my fellow officers when I say we wish we could do more. Budgets are tight, and there aren’t enough cops to go around. Sometimes we get called when a crime is in progress, and we can stop it, but often, like with the burglary at the lavender farm, we don’t get called until after the fact. We do solve a lot of those crimes, catch the criminals, thus preventing them from victimizing other people but—” Some crimes never get solved. Sometimes the criminals win.
Fortunately, the sheriff’s department did solve many tough crimes through good policing and investigation. Law enforcement formed an invisible wall between the law-abiding public and criminal anarchy. However, with resources stretched thin, sometimes that barrier amounted to no more than a fine blue line.
Dedicated to her law enforcement career, she believed all citizens deserved protection, but meeting Tigre’s family had made the burglary of Chameleon and Kevanne’s home personal, and she vowed to double down and work even harder to catch the thieves. After what they’d been through, the ’Topians deserved a break.
She and Tigre finished their breakfast, and then he helped his brothers clean up while the women remained in the great room, moving to adjacent recliners so they could chat easier. Kat engaged in small talk, but her heart felt heavy at the loss of their families and friends, their home planet, everything they’d loved. The Xenos had gotten away with genocide.
When Tigre returned, she thanked Meadow for breakfast and then followed him upstairs. “There’s no one—no galactic tribunal, no council to prosecute the Xenos?” she asked.
“Not yet. But circumstances have a way of changing.”
She drew her brows together. “What do you mean?”
“We—well, Mysk, with our support—intend to bring them to justice. When we first arrived, we were too traumatized to even think about striking back. We had to recover first. Now that we’ve rebuilt our lives, we’re ready to fight. We’re determined to prevent the Xenos from bombarding another planet ever again. However, it’s even more personal than that. There is a chance, although a very slim one, that the Xenos could come looking for us—or stumble upon us. That would not end well for us or Earth.”