Purr-fect for Her [Tigers of Twisted, Texas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

  He grabbed a hunk of her hair and pulled it away from her shoulders. A whimper escaped her. “Please.”

  “Please what, sugar? Please fuck you? Naw, not now. I don’t want my dick inside a bitch like you. Instead of fucking you, I’ll take a memento from our time together.”

  Tears sprang loose as he worked the knife back and forth. Suddenly, her neck was uncovered, hair floating to her shoulders and onto the floor, leaving her feeling vulnerable and naked.

  He held out the long strands of hair he’d cut off her. “Maybe I’ll put this in a box for safekeeping. Or maybe I’ll throw it in the fireplace and see how it burns. I bet it’ll make the fire crackle.”

  She couldn’t speak any longer. What good would it do anyway?

  The low growl of an animal came from behind her. Her heart, impossibly fast, skipped a beat before pounding even harder.

  What was it?

  But the sound alone wasn’t what frightened her. It was the terrified look in Frank’s eyes.

  Frank dropped the knife and started backing up. His mouth worked as though he was trying to speak, but couldn’t. He went for the gun inside his coat and fumbled to get it out.

  Something brushed along the sides of her legs. Almost too afraid to look, she forced herself to lower her gaze.

  At last, Frank found his voice. “Get away from me. Fuck. No. Stay back.” He grabbed a gun and pointed it at the first one, then at the second white tiger.

  They were beautiful animals with fur as white as newly fallen snow. Each step they took was filled with raw power. Their tails swished back and forth, staying low. Black stripes framed their wide faces and necks while more stripes decorated their bodies and formed rings around their long tails. A catlike smile led to the flat nose, then on up to the narrowed eyes. Their rounded ears were laid back and snarls pulled the smile back to expose vicious fangs.

  One of them turned his head farther and looked directly at her.

  He has amber eyes.

  Where had she seen amber in eyes before?

  Like two machines perfectly tuned in sync, the tigers crouched in unison and leapt at Frank.

  She awoke with a start.

  The air was chilly and the moon still hung above her. It took her a little while to remember why she was there.

  Frank.

  She reached for her hair and found it still intact. “Holy shit. Talk about a weird dream.” Her voice seemed lost in the vastness of the silent world around her. But at least she was safe. Safe from Frank and safe from—

  She stared, jaw slack and gaping.

  No. It can’t be.

  A white tiger bounded into the nearby pasture. He was huge, larger than the tigers she’d seen in a circus or at the zoo. His legs were like tree trunks and his head was the size of a Grizzly bear’s. His fur shone under the white moon, and his enormous paws dug up the dirt as he loped along.

  Well, hell. It’s simple. I’m still dreaming.

  She pinched herself to prove she was right.

  But the pinch hurt. If she was still sleeping, still dreaming, would she have felt the sting?

  Are you fucking kidding me? Haven’t I been through enough for one day? For a damn lifetime?

  Wake the hell up!

  And yet she knew without a doubt that she was already awake. The dream had seemed real, but not as clear and as sharp as everything was now.

  She scurried to hide behind the tree. Where had a tiger come from? Was it someone’s illegal pet? Had it escaped captivity?

  Had Frank knocked her out and she’d gone into a coma? But if that was the case, would the pinch still hurt? Did coma victims feel pain? A more likely explanation was that she’d gone insane.

  Yeah. I’ve gone off the deep end. That makes a lot more sense than actually seeing a white tiger in the middle of Texas.

  Prove it. Prove you’re nutso.

  But how?

  If she stood up and walked toward the tiger, and if he didn’t eat her, then she’d know she was crazy.

  Enough already. Wake up or get sane. Do one or the other right this second.

  Maybe if she waved and called “here, pussy” it would rub up against her and lick her. She took a deep breath and started to stand up.

  And promptly dropped into a crouch again.

  A second one? Aw, come on. Even my imagination wouldn’t bring up two of them.

  And yet, hadn’t there been two cats in her dream?

  The second white tiger loped into the pasture and jumped on top of the first one. They rolled together, tails flying, ears laid back. Their growls carried on the breeze.

  They’re playing. Like kittens romping together.

  Yet these kittens could kill her with one easy swipe of their paw. She crouched lower behind the tree. The more she watched them play, the more relaxed she became. They didn’t see her. As long as she stayed low and they didn’t come in her direction, she’d be all right.

  She stuck a finger in her mouth then withdrew it and held it up. At least the wind wasn’t blowing her scent toward them.

  All at once, they parted, growling their playful snarls, then took off. They topped the nearby slope and darted over it.

  Without thinking, she rushed after them. Chasing after two white tigers was a foolish act no matter where it happened—especially in the middle of nowhere without a gun—but she couldn’t help it. She had to see where they went.

  Huffing her way up the rise, she paused as she crested it. What she saw brought her to her knees.

  What were two men doing walking around a pasture at night? More to the point, what had happened to the tigers? Did they men have something to do with the big cats?

  She lifted her hand, ready to call out. And then quickly lowered it. She couldn’t ask them for help. Chasing two tigers was stupid enough, but asking two naked men for help was beyond stupid. Was there a better word for it?

  Foolish. Dumb. Dense. Slow. Idiotic.

  It seemed there were a lot of words.

  Damn, but they had amazing bodies. Even from a distance, she could tell they were over six feet tall. One with dark hair and the other blond.

  Just like the two cowboys she’d met in Austin.

  No. It can’t be.

  These men strolling around naked at night, somewhere near Twisted, Texas, couldn’t be the same men. There was just no way.

  Was there?

  She was being ridiculous. The chances of running into them again was small enough, but to add the chances of running into them out in the middle of nowhere? Infinitesimal.

  But shouldn’t she find out? What if it really was them?

  And yet by the time she’d decided to take the risk and call out to them, they’d disappeared over another rise.

  She sat down, drained. She’d missed her chance, but something inside her told her she’d lost more than a chance to get help. But what?

  Chapter Five

  Braden couldn’t figure out why he was so antsy. Nervous. Wound-up. He worked his neck, trying to ease the tension stiffening it. Usually a good night run made for a relaxed morning, but it was the opposite today.

  “I don’t know about you, but our run didn’t do me any good.”

  Braden nodded at his brother’s voice coming from his cell phone. “Yeah. Same here. Strange.”

  “Yeah, but what’re you going to do? It is what it is.”

  “You know what the problem is.”

  “Yeah. We need to find her. Until we do, we’ll never feel…right.” He ground his teeth, hating the warring emotions tearing up his insides. They’d gone over the problem so many times.

  His brother’s frustrated sigh told of his own conflict. “Let’s give it a couple of more months. For Davey’s sake. After that, you can go search for her.”

  “Okay.” Yet could he last two more months without finding her?

  “How’s the stock?”

  Braden urged his horse out of the pasture and onto the main dirt road leading into Twisted. “I checked on the her
d down by the Grissom place. Nothing new to report.”

  “So you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary?”

  Why had Heath asked that? “Nope. Should I?”

  “Naw. But I keep feeling like I’m overlooking something. Like what’s bugging me is just beyond my reach. It’s a fucked up feeling is all.”

  It was as good a description as any for the way he felt. “Yeah. Same here.”

  “Eh, it’s probably the weather.”

  No, it’s not. And he knows it, too.

  “You’re probably right.” But Heath wasn’t, and he knew it. Their mate’s absence affected every part of their lives even if they tried not to admit it. “I’m headed home.”

  “Good. We’ve got enough chores for five of us.”

  Heath said the same thing all the time. As though they could afford to hire any help. “Check you later.”

  Braden lowered his gaze, watching the passing of the road under Cavalier’s hooves. His mind wandered. Suddenly, another feeling, a far cry from the frustration, swept over him. It sizzled through him, instilling him with exhilaration. Was it hope? Anticipation? When had he had the feeling before? Not in recent days. He was sure of that much.

  He was still thinking about it, trying to understand it, when he finally lifted his head and saw her. At first, he assumed she was a shifter he didn’t recognize from the back. And yet the closer he got, the more excited he became. The unsettled sensation from before whipped into a powerful force that surged through him from head to toe. He pulled Cavalier to a halt and stared.

  Black hair cascaded down her back. Luscious curves filled out her tight jeans.

  Suddenly, his throat constricted and his breathing became labored. He was hallucinating. Or his imagination had taken over, riding high on the strange feelings of earlier. He’d had one of his dreams about their mate after their exhausting run. Surely that was why he thought he was seeing her now. Yet he knew, as soon as he pulled in front of her, he’d find another woman’s face staring up at him.

  “The connection brings the mate to you.”

  He’d heard other shifters say so and he’d seen times when it had actually happened. But then other tigers were left alone, never finding their mates, never having their mate find them.

  His hands fisted around the reins, then gripped the saddle horn. A light sweat broke out along his forehead.

  Could it be her? And if it was, would she remember him?

  He reached down to pat Cavalier’s neck. “Let’s find out.”

  Please, let it be her.

  He urged his horse forward, taking it at a slow pace. If he galloped toward her, he might frighten her.

  The closer he got, the more certain he was that it was her.

  His hand closed over his phone to call Heath. Instead, he dropped it back into his pocket. Until he knew for sure, he’d keep quiet. And maybe for a while after that. Who knew how she’d react? Sometimes future mates were confused, drawn to their mates without knowing why. For a few women it could be a frightening experience. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away.

  She was tired. Her walk was loose, almost to the point of stumbling, and her arms hung at her side. Her head was down, her messed-up hair hanging in her face. He doubted she realized he was there.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  She didn’t respond. Had she heard him?

  He pushed the horse to get as close as he dared. Cavalier snorted, jerking his head up and down, then nickered.

  “Oh, shit.” She jolted and spun around before stepping back and almost falling.

  It’s her.

  He jumped off his horse and rushed to take hold of her arm. The instant he did, he felt the sizzling energy of the connection rush into him like a tornado spinning over a house. The world wavered as he tightened his hold on her, keeping her on her feet.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  She stared at him, her amazing blue eyes clouded with confusion. Yet instead of jerking away, she shifted her attention to where his hand still claimed her arm, then slowly lifted her gaze to his.

  “Are you all right?” Physically, she looked tired, frayed. She looked like she’d been ridden and put up wet. Even so, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  But was she all right mentally?

  She swallowed hard. “Y–yes. I think so.”

  They held their gazes, locked to each other. “You came.”

  She blinked, then frowned. “I don’t know where I am.”

  “Have you been walking long?” He didn’t want to say that she looked like she’d been walking a hell of a long time.

  “I think so. I got off the bus yesterday and had to sleep under a tree.”

  “What? Why’d you get off the bus? The bus to where?” As worn out as she appeared, he didn’t want to push her too hard. But still, he had to understand.

  All at once, she seemed guarded. Had he asked too many questions? And yet, to him, he hadn’t asked enough.

  “I missed getting back on the bus. I was late getting back to the bus.”

  Her voice sounded so exhausted, and the way she spoke, repeating parts of her sentence, made it even more evident that she was bone-weary and needed to rest.

  “So you started walking?”

  She nodded numbly. “Yes.”

  “To where? Where were you headed?”

  She frowned and struggled to find an answer. “I’m not sure.”

  He bent lower as her gaze wandered from his. “Were you going to Twisted?”

  She jerked her head up, suddenly more animated. “Twisted? Yes. Right. Twisted.”

  At least they were getting somewhere. He shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist asking her. So far, he didn’t think she’d recognized him. “Do you remember me? We met back in Austin. You were there for a bachelorette party.”

  He peered at her, willing her to remember him. She had to remember him. If she’d felt the connection, she would. “I’m Braden Asher.” Finally. He told her his name. How often had he wished he’d told her at the club? More times than he could count.

  If only he could tell her everything. But to do so would only cause her more turmoil. What would she say if he told her how he’d chased after her? Or how he’d tried to find her so many times after that night? Would she like it? Or would he come off looking like a stalker?

  He paused, hoping she’d give him any sign of encouragement to keep going. Instead, she stared at him. He couldn’t tell if he’d jogged her memory or not.

  “I need to go to Twisted.”

  Disappointment, stronger than he’d ever experienced him, rocked him. He’d have to back off. For now. Later, once she was rested, he’d try again.

  “What’s your name?” He wouldn’t let her get away this time without finding out who she was. When she didn’t respond, he added, “You do have a name, don’t you?” He smiled at his pitiful joke.

  “I’m Kylie Honeyton.”

  If only he’d asked what her name was at the club. He never would’ve forgotten a name like hers.

  Honeyton. It fits. Sweet. Sexy. Different.

  “Good to meet you again, Kylie. Would you like a ride?”

  She inhaled sharply then moved back a step, jerking her arm from his. He ran his palm over Cavalier’s neck, trying to show how calm the animal was. Trying to take in some of the horse’s calm for his own. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.” He felt the need to tell her. “And I won’t, either.”

  She seemed to relax a little. “Okay.”

  “How about I take you back to my ranch? It’s not far from here.”

  She shook her head a little too vigorously and wrapped her arms around herself. Fear reemerged in her big beautiful blue eyes. “No. I want to go to Twisted.”

  “Okay, don’t get upset. I’ll take you there.”

  “On the horse?”

  If anyone else had asked the obvious question, he’d have laughed. But not when she was in such a fragile condition.
“Yeah. On the horse. Come on.”

  He stepped to the left side of Cavalier. “I’ll get on and then I’ll pull you on. Just put your foot in the stirrup and push off once I grab hold of you. Got it?”

  “Yes.”

  He swung onto the horse, then offered her his hand. For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d take it. Then slowly, timidly, she let him grip her forearm. She stuck her foot in the stirrup, and he pulled her up, settling her behind him.

  “Better put your arms around my waist.”

  “I don’t know…”

  He craned his head around. “Suit yourself, but don’t go blaming me if you fall off.”

  She frowned, then stretched her arms around him. Although the saddle was between his ass and the front of her, she still managed to snuggle up to him.

  “Hang on.” He preferred to take her to the ranch. Not only would he be bringing their mate to their home, but riding double on a horse for too long wasn’t good for the animal. In fact, he’d do better to let her ride while he led the horse. But not yet. Having her hold him, feeling the connection spin back and forth between them was too irresistible.

  * * * *

  Oh, I’ll hang on, all right.

  It’s him.

  Braden Asher.

  His name sounded strong. As strong as he looked. Hell, as strong as he felt.

  Kylie would’ve been excited if she could only muster up enough strength. But she was exhausted. After seeing the tigers, then the naked men last night, she’d kept walking. But soon her legs wouldn’t hold her up any longer. The day had worn her out long before she’d gotten off the bus.

  Watching a man murdered was too much to handle.

  She tightened her arms around him, then couldn’t resist lying her head against his firm back.

  He feels so damn good.

  Surprisingly, having her arms wrapped around the hunk of a cowboy wasn’t the best feeling in the world. The best feeling was the amazing sensations flowing through her. She’d forgotten how intense the sizzling feeling had felt, but the memory of it was back and clearer than ever.

  It’s like a fire flashing out of control and yet it doesn’t burn. It’s like firecrackers going off inside my body.