Tiger Magic
“There were twenty-three. I was the last. Then there was only me.”
She touched his arm, fingers light on his bicep. “I don’t know how to answer that. How to convey how really sorry I am. It sounds lame even to say it.”
The touch had been a mistake. Tiger’s healing body had been content to be in her presence, to rest while he drank in her scent.
The warmth of her hand on him awakened primal needs, and the beast in him rushed to the surface. He should warn her, tell her to get out.
He couldn’t make himself. Tiger was lonely, and alone, in spite of living in this house, in this room where he could watch over all of Shiftertown.
Carly was here. And he needed her.
Simple words, for a simple being. Tiger clasped Carly’s wrist and lifted her hand away, but kept hold of it as he looked at her. She gazed back at him, her expression telling him she felt the change in him, his raw need.
“Tiger,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”
The hesitant words made Tiger stop himself, to push down the feral beast who wanted her. “Of me?” Even his voice had changed, the words harsh and flat.
“Of me.” Tears moistened her eyes. “I just had a bad ending to a relationship I thought was fine. I don’t want to let myself fall in love with you. With anyone.” She touched his face, this second touch ripping away all restraint Tiger had put on himself. “But I think it’s too late for that.”
Too late. Much too late. Tiger growled like a true tiger, pushed Carly onto the bed, pinned her with his hands on her wrists, and brought his mouth down on hers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tiger’s lips were hot, his mouth moving on hers, his tongue sweeping inside. He opened Carly’s mouth with his as she’d shown him how to in Ethan’s dressing room, brushed kisses along her lips and chin as she’d shown him how to in the car.
He held her down with hands on her wrists, his body weight on her. Tiger could have crushed her, Carly knew, but he held himself back, shaking with the effort.
Tiger pulled Carly’s lower lip between his, sucking, the tiny pain sensual. He licked across her lips, then inside again, tasting her mouth.
Carly tasted him back, loving the velvet friction of his tongue. He tasted of spice and musk, the hot bite that was him. Tiger didn’t close his eyes to kiss her; his golden gaze was fixed on her, watching her watch him.
When he eased away, Carly pressed kisses to his mouth, his lips smooth and warm, a little moisture behind them. Tiger kissed her again, matching her actions, his mouth deftly caressing hers.
“You’re a quick learner,” she said breathlessly.
“I am.”
“Mmm. Modest too.”
“They told me so,” Tiger said. “The researchers said I learned fast.”
Carly’s anger surged at those faceless people who’d kept him in a cage, performed experiments on him that hurt him, trying to make a Shifter into a better fighter or whatever it was they were doing. Kept him in a cage. And he was the only Shifter who’d survived this torture.
“They should be arrested.”
Tiger shrugged. “They went away.”
The words were simple, but Carly sensed the volumes of pain behind them. They’d hurt him, then they’d deserted him. He’d had a mate, he’d said, and she’d died. Tiger’s child had died as well. How could he bear it? How could anyone stand so much?
“I’m here,” Carly said. Silly, because she was lying under him—where else would she be? “No matter what. If we hook up or we don’t, if we’re friends only—hell, if we move to opposite sides of the globe—I’ll be there for you when you need me. Okay? I promise.”
Tiger didn’t answer, but the hunger in his eyes told her everything. He lowered his head and nuzzled her, sending white-hot tingles across her skin.
The same hunger flared in Carly. Tiger was sexy, he was gorgeous, and she needed some loving. Finding Ethan yesterday had made her feel like the most un-sexy, most unwanted woman on the planet. Ethan obviously found Carly inadequate, or why would he have needed to fulfill himself with someone else?
When Tiger looked at Carly, she felt beautiful. She knew she cleaned up well, which was why Yvette had hired her to work in the gallery. But Yvette had always maintained that Carly had girl-next-door prettiness, not siren beauty. Fresh faced and sweet, not a temptress. Perfect for the female customers who came in with their husbands to buy art for their houses or offices. Ethan, come to think of it, also hadn’t regarded Carly as a siren beauty, which was what would make her the perfect businessman’s wife. Women wouldn’t be jealous of Carly.
Tiger looked at Carly as though she were a sex goddess in a G-string. Like he wanted to make love to her for days. He’d looked at Carly like that from the first moment he’d raked his gaze over her on the side of the road. She’d asked him if he liked what he saw, and he’d said a simple Yes.
“I was right about you,” Carly said now. “You’re a sweet-talker.”
Tiger growled, not talking at all. He released her hands but only so he could push up her T-shirt and pop open the button of her shorts. The sheet fell from his backside, which was as gorgeous as the rest of him. Carly ran her hands over his bu**ocks, liking how firm he was, then up his torso again, hands finding the pockmarks from the bullets that had gone in, then out.
Tiger’s next kisses were even hotter and more skilled; he adapted to kissing as much as his body was adapting to being shot.