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Ferocity

Page 2

by T. L. Reeve


  He squeezed her shoulder and pressed her to his side when she joined him. He was all brawn and model good looks and he even smelled expensive. Observing him from a distance as she did on occasion, she hadn’t expected the strength he exuded or the comfort she could find in his embrace. She also shouldn’t have wanted to bury her face in his chest and inhale the luxurious scent of sandalwood and leather. Damn it, what the hell is wrong with me?

  Kenny led her down the corridor to the door separating the main building from the actual refuge. The dull, fall sunlight balanced out the cool breeze of the coming winter. Already, there’d been snow in the forecast. It wouldn’t stick yet, however, it reminded her of all the work they still needed to do, to prepare the property for a long cold season.

  They passed through the employee entrance to the back area where all the internal cages were kept. In the distance, she could hear the roar of the lions calling out to each other, or the likely case, they were waiting to eat since it was just about time. Kenny opened the door to the tiger area first and she stepped inside. The visceral reaction had been instantaneous. Her palms began to sweat and the sound of bees buzzing filled her ears. She detested this. She hated the fact her heart felt like it would leap from her chest. Despised the bouts of dizziness leading up to her passing out. She loathed the fear a place she'd called home for so long, could seep from her.

  Having a panic attack was no joke and she hated them with a passion. So, she used the rules her grandfather made for the sanctuary as a way to stay as far as she could from the enclosures. However, in reality, she stayed away because of how she felt the minute she stepped foot inside. It killed her to stay away. Those were her cats and to not be able to be with them every day, well, depression took root. Yes, her parents forced her to talk about the event, but there was nothing like the comfort of a big cat to wash all the pain away. So, little by little, she'd try to see her most beloved big cats from outside. It never ended well though. The minute she'd spot one of the lions coming toward her, Scarlett would run from the fence line quicker than a cheetah chasing a rabbit. Today, was the first time in almost three years since she'd been inside the facility.

  Kenny pushed open the metal door, allowing her the first glimpse into the cages they used for housing the animals at night and during the winter. All of them were empty except for one. Her breath came a little quicker with each step she took. Her heartbeat a wild tattoo. She couldn't run away this time. She had to face her fears no matter what. As she peered into the housing cell, three sets of small blue eyes peered up at her. Their tiny tiger bodies were laid out like their mother while peering up at her as if she were a curiosity or an oddity.

  One meowed, causing their mother to lift her head and stare right at Scarlett. She froze. Fear ignited her fight or flight response. She had to get out of there. What if tigress got out? What if she lunged for Scarlett? What if the tigress blamed her for Jäger's death? Stupid, to even think such a thing, but for Scarlett, the question was part of the visceral reaction she had when any of the cats saw her. The animals, to her anyway, weren't witless. They were intelligent. They remembered the smells and tones of voice. They knew time as well. The tiger could very well eat Scarlett, finishing off what Jäger started twenty years ago. Instead, the tigress yawned, lowered her head and went back to sleep.

  "All worked up for nothing," Kenny murmured. "You do fear these animals, don't you?"

  Scarlett turned around and started back for her office. “I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

  “You don’t want to see the lion cubs?”

  She paused. “You’re acting like this is a good thing, Kenny. We are a sanctuary where animals come to rehabilitate and live out their remaining years. Not get treated like breeders.”

  He held up his hands. “I already told you I agree with you, Scar. However, they’re here and we need to care for them. Maybe find them new homes when it’s time and deal with the fallout from the mating in an appropriate manner.”

  He was right. Again.

  She chalked her reaction up to being afraid. To be so close to the one thing she loved so much it almost resulted in her death. Scarlett didn't know how she'd get over her phobia, but she realized standing there, how much it affected her daily life. She'd built herself a cocoon and never came out again. She'd also relinquished the bulk of the decision making to Maisie and now, she regretted it. "Fine. Show me the lions."

  Kenny grinned. “There’s the spark I’ve been waiting to see.”

  She rolled her eyes and muttered, “I’ll show you spark.”

  When they stepped into Fabien’s office, she’d seen the two sets of lion cubs as well. One belonged to Thadeus; a new lion from a neighboring town’s circus, which had been shut down by the Humane Society due to the horrid conditions the animals were kept in, and Hera one of their older lionesses. The other set, according to Fabien one of their veterinarians, had been conceived before they received the lioness.

  No one knew about it.

  She called BS. Her sister arranged everything and part of the family protocol set up by their grandfather was to have a veterinarian check over every animal before it entered the sanctuary. Scarlett knew she sounded like a militant person when it came to the rules, but they were there for a reason. If the lioness was pregnant before she arrived, well Maisie should have known and taken it under advisement. But it wasn't here nor there now. The cubs were alive and thriving. All they could do now was provide support for them.

  Once they’d received a full report on the baby lions and tigers, Kenny walked her back to her office. He stood at the doorway staring down at her with such an intense amber gaze, it stole her ability to breathe. The anticipation built between them, for what, she didn’t know, twisted her insides and she worried she’d melt into a pile of goo. This man, looming over her, left her a befuddled mess.

  “Have drinks with me and the guys,” he murmured. “You should get out of here more. I think if you did, you’d heal.”

  She frowned. “So I can be the laughing stock of this place? No thank you."

  “No one is laughing at you, Scar.”

  “No, you’re right. When they’re not laughing, they’re staring at me or giving me looks of pity.” She stepped away from him, needing the space to gather herself.

  “No one does that either.” He stepped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “You’ve been treated as an outcast by your family—your sister—for so long, you’ve continued to oppress yourself on your own.” He traced the jagged line of her scar with his fingertip. “You’ve got a scar. Who cares? It’s a badge of honor.”

  She snorted. “Do you know how many times doctors have said the same thing to me? Oh, I shouldn’t be ashamed. I survived. You didn’t lose your eye, so buck up. You and them, don’t have to deal with the constant whispers and sideways glances.”

  “Then those people are assholes,” he murmured. “Come with us, Scar. Just one night.”

  She cut her gaze to where the binders sat on her desk waiting for her to dig in. She'd been going through them before Kenny stopped her. Like she told him earlier, the budgets were cut, and she had to find out why. Going out would take her away from her task. "I can't." She stepped around him and headed to her desk. "I have too much work to do."

  He nodded. “Seven new mouths to feed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, shit, Scar,” he said, strolling back toward the exit. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you didn’t like me and were making excuses.”

  She opened her mouth to refute what he said, but Kenny was already gone, leaving her to stare at an empty entryway. Scarlett sat at her desk and blew out a pent-up breath. What the hell just happened? Why had the air in her office become so oppressive, and not in a bad way either? Why did she think her heart would cease to beat, even though she was a good way away from the enclosures? And, why did she see a hint of hurt in his eyes when she rejected his offer? You’re reading too much into it. Kenny doesn’t
like you. He wants to help you get over your fears. So, why didn’t she go out with him if that were true?

  Scarlett groaned in defeat.

  “Stop torturing yourself,” she chided. “And, get back to work. The books won’t figure themselves out on their own.”

  Chapter Two

  In the past week, Scarlett had poured over every entry and every receipt, and she still couldn't figure out why the sanctuary was losing money. The books hadn't shown any type of discrepancy. None of it made any sense to her. She carried the binder with her as she made her way to the breakroom down the hall from her office. The heady smell of fresh coffee lured her in. She was a prisoner to the bean and, whoever made the sinfully aromatic pot, should be rewarded and summarily fired. It wasn't a good habit to drink the hot brew late at night. Unfortunately, until she figured out what was going on with the sanctuary, late-night coffee runs were going to become her new usual.

  Scarlett poured herself a cup and glanced at the microwave, noticing, for the first time, how late it had gotten. Two in the morning. She definitely didn’t need the cup of coffee in her hand, especially when the numbers on the page were beginning to blur together. However, she couldn’t stop, she had to find the mess and clean it up. If she could do so, it would force Maisie to discontinue this breeding project of hers. Plus, it wasn’t like it brought any more money into their refuge. If anything, they continued to run into the red which would have never happened with her parents.

  “You’re still here?” Kenny leaned against the doorframe; a crooked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “I see you went out again.” She emptied two packets of sugar into her cup along with a dollop of cream before glancing up at him. “You’re drunk.” She took a sip of her coffee then poured a little more of the cream into the cup.

  "No, I'm not." He pushed off the jamb and sauntered toward her. His eyes were a bit glassy. His gait was a bit loose. If he wasn't drunk like he said, he'd been well on the way to being so.

  “Tell me you guys Uber’d or Lyft’d home.”

  “We Uber’d or Lyft’d home.” He chuckled.

  Scarlett frowned. "You might not be drunk, but you're not sober either. Go back to your bunk and sleep it off. Five comes early around here. ‘Specially when you come home at two."

  "Pfft..." He placed his palm to her hip and a passionate, searing heat surged through her. "I'm not going to bed until you join me."

  “Okay,” Scarlett moved away from him and instantly missed the warmth, “now I know you’re drunk. Go to bed Kenny.”

  “Scar...” He gave her the saddest puppy eyes she’d ever witnessed and considering cats did it better than dogs, was telling. “You know we’d be good together.”

  “Be that as it may,” she said. “We’re treading into workplace sexual harassment.”

  He inched closer to her. “If I was trying to ‘workplace,’ harass you, I’d have done this.” He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers twice before he settled in.

  The light smell of whiskey and sin laced his breath. The heady taste on his tongue drugged her. She whimpered as her notebook and cup fell from her hands, crashing on the tile floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged her fingernails down the back of his head. Kenny groaned. The sound vibrated against her chest and she gasped. They shouldn't be doing this. He wasn't in the right frame of mind and her... Well, she shouldn't be doing it. Yet, as many times as she told herself to stop or to stop him, she couldn't do it.

  Kenny laid her on the table behind her. The cool surface had her arching to him. Again, she tried to force herself to end this little sordid interlude, but it didn’t work. Fire raced through her veins along with anticipation. Maybe he was right all along. She shoved the thought aside. If she debated the situation too much, she’d end up making a fool of herself. Instead, she concentrated on the man leaning over her. He ran his hand up her inner thigh, pushing her billowy skirt out of the way. Her heart hammered as he traced a little pattern along her dark flesh, hypnotizing her.

  She moaned, grabbing the back of his shirt. Scarlett pulled it from his pants then shoved her hands under the plaid material. His skin was soft, and his muscles quivered at her touch. He mumbled something against her lips before reaching between them. He worked open the button fly of his jeans and gave a muttered curse while rubbing himself. For a split second, she thought he'd come to his senses and was about to stop when he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and removed a foiled disk from inside. Kenny threw his wallet on the floor and placed the purple wrapper between his teeth.

  The air in the room was thick with expectation. Her breath came in heavy pants as she watched him lower his pants, so they clung to his hips then drew his boxer-briefs low enough to allow his thick dick to spring free. Her breath hitched. He was well endowed, long with just the right amount of girth. She licked her lips and the sound he made, snapped her attention back to him.

  He ripped the packet open with his teeth then removed the latex disk. “Can’t wait to get your mouth on me.” Kenny rolled the barrier down his length. “Later though.”

  He covered her again. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the hint of whiskey when she inhaled, and a shiver of keen awareness skirted down her spine. Again, she questioned whether or not she should be doing this with him, but the notion left her the moment he pushed aside her panties. She should have been embarrassed by the aroused wetness dampening them and her slit. Should have been ashamed by the way her clit hardened and throbbed as he slid his thumb down her opening.

  “I told you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “We’re meant to be together.” He teased her with the tip of his cock before pushing forward.

  Her mouth fell open as he filled her in one go. The sensation of being overfull accompanied the faint ripple of pleasure. She clung to him, digging her nails into his shoulders for purchase. She cursed him as he began to move with deep, purposeful thrusts because she'd never be able to look at him again without thinking about this.

  Every.

  Single.

  Time.

  Kenny leaned back and gripped her hips, guiding her over him. His face was a mask of pure pleasure as he continued at his desperate pace. With each shift of his hips, he awoke a different place within her—nerve endings she didn't even know she had sparked to life, sending tendrils of bliss through her until every inch of her tingled. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she sighed his name as the intense ball of warmth expanded inside her as a wave of expectancy washed over her.

  She fit her fingers between them and circled her clit. The electric pulse ripped a cry of ecstasy fell from her lips and she shook from the force of it. It’d been as if the current shot through her, before zeroing in at where they’d been connected.

  It was too much and not enough at the same time. Kenny’s strokes shortened and his features were a cross between pure pain and bliss. He braced himself over her, changing the angle of his penetration, allowing him to tap at her sweet spot several times. They didn’t say a word in those moments. She accepted everything he gave her, while the sounds he made turned her on more.

  Then, Scarlett pressed down on her clit and she went sailing. Her orgasm rushed to the forefront, pitching her into one of the best, natural highs she’d ever had. She shuddered and bucked against him riding out her release unable to make a sound because the force of it stole her ability to do so. Kenny cursed and let loose with a harsh sound. He thrust twice more and shoved as deep as he could go. He moaned her name and pressed his lips to the sensitive flesh right below her ear, the second she felt him throb deep within her.

  They laid there, Kenny's weight comforting her as they caught their breath. She waited for some kind of recrimination to swamp her. It never manifested. Her mind quieted and her body hummed with sweet repletion. All too soon though, the moment was over. Kenny slipped from her causing both of them to groan. He didn't say anything to her as he took care of the condom and righted his clothes nor while she a
djusted her panties and skirt.

  “Shit, Scar.” He bent down. “Almost messed up your notebook.” He picked up the folder and frowned. “What’s this?”

  Scarlett’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know.” And, like that, their tryst was over. She extended her hand and he readily handed everything over. “I’ve never seen this before.” She pulled out the packet of papers while he cleaned up the shards of ceramic and tan coffee long forgotten by her. She flipped over the cover page with the sanctuary’s name on it along with her sister’s name. “Maisie...”

  Kenny stilled. His body tensed as stopped wiping up the floor. “What does it say.”

  “It’s a loan contract, I think. I’ll have to ask our lawyers, Dave, about it, but...” She flipped through the pages and whimpered. “Oh no.”

  Kenny was at her side in an instant. “What?”

  “It all makes sense now. All of it.” She looked up at him. “My sister used the cats as collateral, more specifically Hearts and Paws, for the two and a half-million-dollar loan." Worry mutated into rage. How dare Maisie use their animals for her gain. Plus, since her sister received the money for the loan, where had it all gone? They were operating on a shoestring budget as it stood. Two million would have bought their felines food, bedding, medicine and perhaps, allowed them to add the spotted leopard and/or the ocelot she'd turned down a few weeks ago.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered taking the contract from her. “Is there any chance Dave could have seen this before you did?”

  Dave Youngblood took over his father's position as their lawyer a few years ago when his father retired. However, she'd known him since they were kids. Like Kenny, Dave tried to draw her out of her office and on occasion, when she was younger, out of her room. He didn't see her scar or at least swore he didn't. He tried to treat her like she was normal when Scarlett knew she was anything but.

  “If he had, don’t you think he would have said something?” She rubbed her forehead. “Just when I didn’t think things couldn’t get any worse.”

 

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