Like now.
“I ran away from home at fifteen. I stole his motorbike after we’d had this big fight and he had said he wanted me gone. I was so upset… I lost control of the bike and crashed it into a ditch.” Sherry lifted the right leg of her jeans, revealing the start of the scar that ran up her shin to her knee, and Talon stared at it, all the fires of Hell raging in his eyes, his jaw set hard and eyebrows drawn low. She carefully smoothed her jeans back down, and he lifted his eyes back to hers. She didn’t look away from him this time, because she needed to know he was there with her, needed the comfort of his presence and his strength. “My dad found me in the hospital and rather than being concerned about me and my fucked up leg, he was pissed about the fact I had trashed his bike.”
Talon lowered his hand to her right shin, stroked it up and down in a way that both soothed and seared her, making her itch to feel his hand on her bare skin. His eyes held hers, darker now, conveying the way he felt about her father.
Pretty much the same way she felt about him.
She hated him.
“I ran away again at nineteen, and ended up in London. Spent a year or so on the streets, roughing it… until I was caught stealing food from the bins behind Underworld.” She smiled at that, still able to remember being dragged through the empty club and brought up in front of a very groggy and pissed off Kyter. He had been more angry about being woken than the fact she had been going through the trash. “Rather than turning me over to the authorities, he gave me a place to stay in exchange for me working for him… he pretty much saved my arse.”
At the time, she hadn’t understood why. It had only been after she had learned he was a jaguar shifter, and all his staff were immortals too, that she had realised he had done it because he had a habit of taking in strays, was creating his own small pride from non-humans who no longer had a place to call home.
People like him.
“How long have you known your boss is a shifter?” He sounded curious again, and she risked a glance at him, caught the glimmer of it in his eyes as he watched his hand skimming up and down her leg.
Did he like touching her?
“Um… like… maybe eight years or so. I don’t really remember.”
“And you stayed?” He lifted his eyes to hers.
Sherry smiled. “Of course… why wouldn’t I?”
He frowned at her. “Just… it must have been a shock.”
“It was, but I always had the feeling something was off. I mean, the gym at Underworld has plastic barrels in it and knotted ropes, and there was a huge stuffed bear at one point that looked a little worse for wear.” Her smile widened when she thought about the one time she had caught Kyter in his jaguar form with that bear in a death grip, his hind paws kicking at its stomach. When he had finished, she had teased him by petting him and congratulating him on being a big bad kitty and killing the bear. It hadn’t gone down well. “Underworld… it’s my home now… and everyone there is my family.”
He pulled a face. “If you ask me, your big brother is an overprotective pain in the arse.”
She giggled. “He can be a little like that… but he’s saved my arse plenty of times now… I have to give him something back and if it’s putting up with a jaguar who wants to kill anyone who might hurt me, I’ll live with that.”
Talon averted his gaze and blew out a long sigh, and might have muttered something under his breath, something about not being out to hurt her.
“Must be nice having real family though,” she said in a low voice, trying to imagine what his life was like.
Kyter had painted a grim picture of his pride, but Cavanaugh had made his sound wonderful, like a close-knit community. One big family.
“In some ways… not in others.” Talon tipped his head back and grimaced. “Byron is not going to be happy with me.”
Something about the way he said that annoyed her and made her hate his brother even though she had never met him. Byron should be glad to have Talon back, alive and safe, and not blame him for what Archangel had done to Jayna. She had the horrible feeling that Byron was like her father though, and liable to hurt Talon just as her father had hurt her, making his life Hell because of what had happened to his bride.
Talon’s amber gaze slid downwards to land on her, and he rolled his head towards her. “What’s wrong?”
He always seemed to know when she was upset. How? Could he sense it in her?
She didn’t want to talk more about her family, and didn’t want to hurt him by talking about his brother either, reminding him what lay ahead for him.
She settled for a safer topic.
One that was playing on her mind.
“I’m a little nervous.” Her pulse quickened when his right eyebrow rose and she suddenly realised that he could interpret that in a thousand ways—including that she was nervous about being alone with him. “About going into Archangel.”
The wicked hunger that had been building in his eyes dissipated, concern replacing it.
“I know,” he murmured and ran his eyes over her, over every part of her except her face. He was avoiding eye contact. Why? She frowned at his face, at the struggle written in every strong line of it. He sighed, closed his eyes, and then opened them and met hers. “I can feel it in you… I can feel when you’re worried… or upset… or happy… and I can feel when you’re nervous.”
Sherry had the feeling that was meant to surprise her, or terrify her. Kyter picked up on her emotional signals too, and even Cavanaugh could at times. The bastards could read her like a book if she wasn’t guarded with her emotions.
She stared at Talon, her gut telling her that his ability to sense things in her ran deeper than Kyter and Cavanaugh’s talent for pissing her off by prying into her private feelings.
Dangerously deeper.
The big demon had said that she was Talon’s, and Talon hadn’t denied it.
He had been swift to protect her, had risen to all the bait that Kyter had tried to hook him with too, and had forgotten their company from time to time, seemingly lost in her and unaware of the world.
Shit, hadn’t she felt the same?
It was dangerously easy to lose herself in Talon and forget the world.
She didn’t want to think about the how of it, or the why, but she could sense things about him too.
Like the fact he was nervous again.
“You’ll blend in.” His deep voice sank into her, warmed her right down to her bones and teased her senses, chasing away the doubts and her fears, and crushing her ability to keep some distance between them. She met his gaze, fell into it and into the dream of just sliding off the arm of the couch and into his arms, and forgetting everything for a while. She wanted to be closer to him. His hands twitched against his thighs, as if he wanted to pull her into his arms, wanted that same moment of madness as she did. “You’re human and they won’t suspect you if you’re with that huntress.”
She ignored the sharp way he had mentioned her species. If he had been trying to remind himself that she was just a little mortal and not a beautiful tigress, he had failed, because the hunger that had fled his eyes was building again like a storm.
A storm she knew would light them both up and change their lives forever if they let it crash over them.
Sherry curled her hands into fists on her knees, ignored the voice at the back of her head that chanted at her about keeping her distance, about how this would only end in heartbreak, and that love was painful, and dragged her courage up.
Because she was about to do something crazy, leaping into the lion’s den to get information for the man in front of her. She was going to risk her life for him, because deep inside she knew he was worth it.
And she was going to risk her heart too.
For one night with him.
She couldn’t dance around it any longer, and it felt stupid to deny herself something she wanted. This wasn’t about love. This was about desire. Attraction. Need. She had never been afraid to scr
atch itches whenever they had walked into her life before, and she wasn’t going to be afraid now. She was still here. Still standing. This wasn’t going to turn into anything. It was just satisfying the hunger she felt, one she knew he shared.
Just one night.
She swore it would be enough.
She swore she wouldn’t fall for him.
It was just about lust.
Scratching that itch.
Her mouth didn’t get the memo.
“I’m not nervous that people will know I’m not with Archangel… I’m worried something will happen to you.”
He just stared at her.
Shit. What the fuck had made her say that? Lust. Not love. Lust! Damn it all to Hell. She wasn’t meant to be feeling anything soft for him, thought she had mastered those emotions and managed to get it into her head and her heart that this was just physical release, just a roll in the hay. Fuck.
Fear was swift to rise and swamp her, that voice screaming at her in a mocking tone, telling her she had been a fool, had just laid it all out there, baring the softest part of her, the side she had meant to keep locked away and hidden. Protected.
Idiot.
She shot to her feet and paced away from him. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.”
He was on his feet in a flash, and across the room in the next second, hemming her in against the cream wall.
He pressed his palms against it on either side of her shoulders and leaned in close.
“I cannot.” He lifted one hand and caught her cheek, smoothed his palm across it and sent shivers dancing over her skin, a tremble that carried heat in its wake that soothed her fear and tamed that voice. She lifted her eyes to his. They were bright gold, mesmerising. Beautiful. She couldn’t catch her breath as she stared up into them and his words curled around her. “You want me.”
She wanted to deny that.
“Don’t,” he whispered and traced his thumb across her cheek, his bright amber gaze following it, filled with fascination. “I can feel you… I can feel your need… and it’s as fierce as my own.”
It was?
Did he feel as if he was on fire, would burn to ashes if he didn’t do something?
His eyes met hers again, stole her breath as they told her everything, that this was about more than lust. More than desire.
This crazy thing between them ran as deep as their blood.
As their souls.
She wanted to tell him how she felt, but he stole the words right out of her mouth when he leaned in close, slid his hand around the nape of her neck and clutched it, and brought his lips near to hers, husking in the most earnest and heartfelt voice.
“Gods, I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you.”
CHAPTER 11
She shouldn’t do this.
She really shouldn’t.
But the thought of what Talon was about to do by allowing Archangel to capture him again, the thought that she might never see him again, seized hold of her and made her act.
Screw the consequences.
He was right, and she wanted him. She felt the same way as he did.
She had never needed anyone the way she needed him.
Sherry tilted her head up, captured his lips and swallowed his gasp in a kiss.
A kiss that stayed soft for as long as it took for him to catch up and realise what was happening.
The second he did, his grip on the back of her neck tightened and he hauled her against him, his mouth dominating hers in a wicked yet wonderful way. She melted into his kiss, placed her hands on his powerful shoulders and drew him closer still, because she couldn’t get close enough to him.
His bare chest pressed against hers, and she couldn’t contain the moan that rolled up her throat when he groaned and deepened the kiss, as if just feeling her against him had given him a hit of pure pleasure.
His tongue stroked the seam of her lips and she opened for him, wasn’t sure she could keep any part of her closed off any longer as he went to war on her defences, stripping them all down with the ferocity of his kiss and the need it conveyed, and the way his body pressed against hers and his hand held her nape.
As if he didn’t want to let her go.
Couldn’t bear it if she slipped out of his grasp.
That feeling grew in her too, a fear that he might let her go when she needed him so badly she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t keep still in his arms. She wriggled against him, rubbing her chest against his, and looped her arms around his neck.
He slid one hand down to her backside and she moaned and trembled as he palmed it, large hands kneading her flesh, making her aware of his strength.
Aware of the fact she had never slept with a non-human.
Would it feel different?
Talon broke away from her lips and pressed his forehead against hers, his breath sawing from his lips.
“You’re afraid,” he whispered, hoarse and husky, sending another ripple of pleasure rolling down her spine.
She went to shake her head, and stopped herself. “I… I’ve never done this with a…”
It seemed so stupid saying that out loud.
This wasn’t her first rodeo, and she was fairly certain shifters didn’t really differ that much from a human, other than his strength. He wasn’t going to go all tiger on her. She knew that much from overhearing conversations between Kyter and Cavanaugh about their saucy interludes with their mates.
Talon drew back and dazzled her with a grin, one that lit up his eyes and made her realise this was the first time she had seen him smile.
And she had been the one to make him do it.
With her stupid worries.
“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured and before she could slap his chest and chastise him for not taking this seriously, he bent and scooped her up into his arms.
It would have been the most romantic thing to ever happen to her.
Except Talon grunted and hissed through his teeth.
She didn’t weigh that much, did she?
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Like hell it was nothing. “You sounded hurt.”
Her eyes widened as it hit her.
“Put me down.” She pushed at his bare chest but he tightened his grip on her, pinning her against his hard body and restraining her legs. “You’re going to open that wound again if you’re not careful, and then…”
She blushed. Hard. It didn’t help when his lips curled in a sly smile, one that said he knew what she had been about to say.
He leaned in and nuzzled her cheek, peppered it with kisses that reignited the fire in her and made her forget what they had been talking about or why she had been worried.
“One little wound isn’t going to stop this from happening, Sherry.” His lips teased her cheek and her neck as he spoke each word, stirred that fire in her blood until she was burning for him. “I’m having you.”
The way Talon said that made it sound so possessive, made her feel he was talking about more than just having her now, for this one moment.
It rang warning bells in her head but his lips worked magic on her throat and silenced them, filled her head with the hum of pleasure instead as she leaned into his mouth and savoured the shivers that tripped over her skin with each kiss.
He turned and carried her towards the bedroom, and her eyes slipped shut, her will to resist melting out of her and leaving her boneless in his arms, craving more from him. Damn, he was good. Better than good. Just his lips on her throat was enough to have her soaring towards release. She couldn’t wait to find out what that mouth would feel like on other parts of her body.
When they reached the bed, he set her down on it and continued his assault on her throat. He kissed it harder, laved it with his tongue and sent her flying higher. His lips traced her collarbone and then he swept them up to her ear and sucked on the lobe. She moaned and shuddered, throbbing low in her belly as the fire in her grew hotter.
It burst into a wildfire when his tongue stroked the back of her neck, near her hairline, and she cried out, unable to contain herself.
Talon froze.
Breathed hard against her nape.
His arms shook violently, making the mattress tremble as he supported himself on them.
Something was wrong.
“Talon?” she whispered and he pushed away from her.
“Just need a second.” He rose onto his feet and paced across the room, disappearing into the living room.
She stared at the doorway, her eyebrows pinned high on her forehead.
What?
She touched the back of her neck, shivered as she remembered how good his tongue had felt there. How right.
And how, for a heartbeat, she had wanted him to bite it.
Had he picked up on that desire?
Or had she picked up on his need to bite her there and interpreted as her own?
She decided to put the back of her neck off limits, at least until she understood what was going on.
She wasn’t going to let one little hiccup ruin this moment though.
She stripped off her top, stood and removed her jeans. Her socks followed, and then her underwear. She stared at the bedroom door, heart drumming against her chest, nerves rising again. She quashed them, set her jaw and set her sights on the guy prowling around in her living room.
Talon wasn’t getting away that easily.
She wanted him, and she was damned well going to have him.
Sherry sauntered towards the door.
He turned the second she entered the living room.
His amber eyes widened, but the shock in them lasted all of a second before desire took over, dilating his pupils until they devoured almost all of his irises. Hunting her. She trembled in response as instinct told her she was in danger, that this powerful man wanted her and nothing on this planet was going to stop him this time.
He growled, flashing short fangs, and prowled towards her, muscles shifting in a seductive symphony with each stride.
When he was close, he launched at her and caught her around the waist. She gasped as her back hit the mattress and his weight pressed down on her, pinning her there. A little thrill ran through her at the thought he was caging her, making it clear he wasn’t going to let her escape.
Turned by a Tiger Page 11
