White Tiger

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White Tiger Page 10

by Jennifer Ashley


  Kendrick no longer wanted to be the Guardian in Dylan’s pocket.

  Addison listened, her blue eyes wide. “Do these rogue Shifters have anything to do with the ones who shot up the diner?”

  Kendrick’s fears lashed at him. “I’m not sure. There have always been elements among my Shifters that were factious, but none rebelled openly. But since my Shifters dispersed last fall, it seems that some of them have decided to break from me and join a contingency of Collared Shifters who want out of Shiftertowns. Shifters are dangerous, Addison. I don’t care what the human-made documentaries say or how harmless you think my cubs are. Shifters are volatile and unpredictable. I tell you all this so you understand that. Sending you to New Orleans—by private plane, not bus—is looking better and better to me.”

  “Is it?” Addison cocked her head, as she had in the dream. “Who is going to watch out for your cubs while you face all these dangerous Shifters? From what I heard, you asked Ben to find some of your Shifters and send them to you. Sounds risky. I think I’d better stay right where I am.”

  Kendrick went to her swiftly. The horse threw up her head and backed up in her stall, her eyes white. She knew the creature who moved toward her was predatory, a beast in the guise of a man.

  Addison, on the other hand, stood her ground. She also knew Kendrick was a predator, and she didn’t care.

  Time to teach her a few things.

  Kendrick gripped Addison by the shoulders. “I didn’t want you to come with me in the first place. Dragging you into danger wasn’t what I needed.”

  “Yes you did,” Addison said quietly. Her sure gaze met his agitated one. “You wanted me to come or else you’d have put me on that plane or left me in the motel or even at the side of the road.”

  She was right that he’d wanted her with him. Even in Kendrick’s anger, he had to acknowledge that. He hadn’t wanted her to go, not yet. Even now, as he told her he wanted her gone, he knew he didn’t mean it. He needed her here, next to him. That’s also what the dream had told him.

  “If you stay too long, Addison, then I can’t ever let you leave. If Shifter Bureau catches you, they won’t let up on you. They’ll keep at you until you tell them everything about me.”

  “Fine then,” Addison said. “I won’t leave.”

  Kendrick’s grip tightened. “If you stay with me, your greatest danger is from me. You need to understand that.”

  “Because you can change into a big tiger and take me out with one paw?” Her smile came. “I’ll risk it.”

  Kendrick’s blood fired. “It’s more than that, Addison. It’s so much more than that.”

  “Oh?” Addison’s tone sharpened with curiosity and behind that, excitement. “What exactly do you mean, then?”

  “Damn it.”

  Kendrick’s words turned to a growl. His hands began to change, claws extending from fingers that turned furry. The claws snagged the material of the T-shirt on her shoulders and tore through it.

  Kendrick never broke her skin. He knew exactly how much pressure to use, and when to stop.

  He was hot, his blood beginning to sear. He felt as though he’d run too long, oxygen squeezing out of him and leaving him breathless.

  He brought his claws down the front of the shirt, ripping it away. No thought about how she’d get back to the house with her clothes in shreds crossed his mind. At the moment, Kendrick didn’t care.

  Addison drew a quick breath, her curiosity changing to surprise but not fear. Her lips parted, became moist, as Kendrick’s claws receded, his hands became fully a man’s, and he dragged his fingers down the shirt, pulling it away.

  Her bra beneath was a neutral-colored satin with a white bow, cupping her full breasts like loving hands. The bra was too dull for her, too thick and masking. Kendrick would buy her beautiful lingerie—he had vague visions of floating white, red, or black fabric that enhanced rather than hid her.

  Addison made a small noise when he tore open the bra, pulling it away to free the fullness of her.

  This is what Kendrick wanted to see—Addison the woman, no cloaking herself in awkward clothes, no effacing herself so she could make a living. She had round, full breasts, as he’d felt last night, the tips dusky pink, rising with her intake of breath.

  Kendrick changed his touch to a tender one, cupping her with his palms where the bra had. Addison leaned into him, her eyes half closing.

  Hell. Kendrick brought his thumbs up to touch her nipples, a shudder going through him at the hot softness of her skin. I need this.

  He found himself dropping to his knees before he consciously decided to, the last remnants of the shirt she’d borrowed from him falling at his touch.

  Kendrick pressed a long kiss to her belly, and her hands came around him to cradle his head, fingers stroking his hair.

  “Your beauty blasts from you,” he whispered into her skin. “It cuts me.”

  “I’m a waitress who needs to eat less pie,” Addison answered. Her supple abdomen moved with her laughter.

  “It hurt me.” Kendrick pressed another kiss to her stomach, licking where his lips touched. “I told myself never to go back after I first saw you, but I couldn’t stop. I had to see you every night, just to look at you.”

  “And here I thought you really liked the apple streusel. I can make some for you, if Charlie has the ingredients.”

  “Stop.” Kendrick nipped her skin, then licked her again. He couldn’t cease tasting her. “Stop making this a joke. I brought you into danger, because I couldn’t deny myself. You call to me.”

  Addison stroked his hair once more, fingers languid. “I can’t help making jokes. It’s how I deal with stress.”

  Stress. Something humans went on and on about. Shifters had stress too, but usually it manifested in fights to the death or something as terrible as a Shifter giving in to anguish and ending his own life. Kendrick had felt that anguish but he’d grabbed on to all his strength and fought to stay alive. His cubs needed him.

  “This is how I deal with stress,” Kendrick said. He popped open the button of her jeans and pulled down the zipper. He was kind and didn’t tear the fabric this time—he merely yanked the jeans and underwear beneath down to her ankles.

  “Kendrick . . .”

  Kendrick waited for what she wanted to say, but Addison fell silent. She was beautiful standing there, fully bare except for the fabric bunched around her sneakers. He looked up to her round breasts, the dark ponytail flowing over her shoulders, her blue eyes filled with need. Her stomach was soft, hips wide, and curls as dark as those on her head waited between her legs.

  Kendrick brushed his hand to the join of her thighs, finding her moist. He leaned forward and kissed her there, liking the way she gave a startled jump.

  Kendrick stilled her with one hand. “You taste like . . .” He groped for what he wanted to say. “Desire.”

  She tasted exactly like he wanted her to, exactly as he needed her to. Her scent, honey with a slight tang of salt, entered him and became a part of him.

  “You taste ready for me,” Kendrick finished.

  Addison pushed at him with feeble hands. “I’m not sure what I’m ready for.”

  “Greedy,” Kendrick said. “Me for you, you for me.”

  “You’re confident.” Addison gave a shaky laugh. “Though it’s me standing in a barn with my clothes off.”

  “You are hungry for me, Addison. I can taste it.” Kendrick kissed her again, then slid his tongue straight into her heat.

  “Oh, my . . .” Addison broke off in a cross between a gasp and a moan. “Shit, Kendrick, you can’t . . .”

  She trailed off, not finishing what he couldn’t do. Kendrick drew her closer to him, his hands on her hips, and drank her in.

  The tang of her rolled over his tongue, her wanting, her dismay at wanting it, every need she had. Kendrick kn
ew all.

  At the same time, he tasted only her, the bite of her sending his lusts soaring. His cock tightened, wanting him to take her now. On the dusty straw, on the hard floor, to drive into her until every ache was gone. That would take a long, long time.

  Addison groaned, her fingers twining in his hair. Kendrick sped his tongue’s strokes, drinking her. He wouldn’t take her fully here, in the dirt—not now. Later, though . . . He compensated for his kindness in not simply ravishing her by pleasuring her with his rapid tongue, making her hips rock with joy.

  “Oh . . .” Addison pushed forward, reaching with all of herself for the sensation of his mouth. “Oh . . . Holy f—”

  Her word trailed off into a long cry of joy that became a wail. One hand left his hair to be pressed over her mouth, choking off the sound.

  Kendrick kept on her as she twisted and writhed but never tried to dislodge him. She was breathing hard, perspiration shining on her skin.

  “Kendrick. You have to stop.” Her voice was raw, hoarse.

  No, he didn’t. Kendrick renewed his attack, his fingers pressing into her buttocks, kneading them as he lifted her against his mouth.

  Addison gave up trying to stem her cries, which came out of her in loud Ohs. Her body arched to him, her hands pulled him closer, the heat of her flowing into his mouth. She wanted him inside her—his tongue was only the warm-up.

  But not yet. Kendrick shook deep inside, holding back and hating it. She was human, fragile, in spite of her claims to the contrary. He’d die if he hurt her.

  Kendrick gradually slowed his licks, nips, thrusts. Addison dragged him closer, wanting more, but Kendrick forced himself to back away, pressing a final kiss to her sweetness.

  He climbed to his feet, not in the least stiff from kneeling on the hard floor. In fact, he wanted to race away, to run, until he dropped in exhaustion. Only then would his frenzy abate, only then could he leave her alone.

  Addison was flushed, her hair in tangles, her shaking hands balling at her sides. Her eyes shone, though, and when Kendrick took a step back from her, her smile blossomed.

  She gave him a shy but happy look and started to reach for her sagging jeans, but Kendrick caught her around the waist. Addison started, but he pulled her to him, tight against his body, loving the feeling of her bare flesh against his clothes. He didn’t try to kiss or caress her, he simply hugged her.

  For a Shifter, holding was the next best thing to sex. Hugging meant touch, soothing, warmth, protection, happiness, safety, complete trust. Kendrick held on, burying his face in the curve of Addison’s neck.

  She hugged Kendrick in return, laughing softly as he squeezed her. They swayed back and forth as heat sifted around them and dust hung in the air.

  Addison suppressed a small sneeze. Kendrick raised his head but he didn’t want to let her go.

  He had to, though, or he’d say to hell with it and take her. Kendrick would mate-claim her, go into mate frenzy, and forget about Dylan, his Shifters, those hunting him.

  A snarl worked its way up through his throat. Kendrick’s skin was hot, itching, but there was no relief because the wild heat was inside him.

  The snarl came out. Kendrick pushed away from a startled Addison and stripped out of his clothes. He tossed his own T-shirt at her feet right before he shifted to tiger.

  He heard the horse whinny in terror, Addison cry out. But Kendrick was gone, the white tiger sprinting out into the sunlight and rising heat of the desert morning.

  * * *

  Addie managed to pull up and fasten her jeans before her strength left her. Then she fell back against a stall door and pressed her hands to her face.

  She’d just had the most brilliant orgasm of her life, with a man who could change into a tiger. Her body was still shuddering with it, hot all over, a tightness within her easing.

  She realized she’d just changed somehow. The Addie who’d walked into the barn, ready to pry out of Kendrick a clear explanation of events, was gone. A new Addie stood in her place, and she wasn’t sure what she’d learn about her.

  One thing—she loved what Kendrick had done with his tongue. He’d done it to pleasure her and also to frighten her, to show he could do anything to her.

  Well, if he’d been going for terror, his plan had backfired. Addie felt cleansed, as though some darkness she’d been holding on to without knowing it had been ripped free.

  Kendrick had only made her want him more, hope he’d continue what this first pleasuring had meant to lead to.

  The sound of voices cut into her afterglow. Addie jumped then swooped down and snatched up the shirt Kendrick had dropped. She stepped back into deeper shadow and slid the shirt on, kicking Kendrick’s empty jeans into a corner just before Charlie and the three cubs walked up to the barn.

  The barn had no doors, and she could see the four clearly in the sunshine—Charlie with his slightly stooped shoulders, the littler cubs dancing around, Robbie walking more sedately. Addie scooped up the tattered remains of the other shirt and her bra and crumpled them into a ball in her hand.

  The horse had ventured forward again after Kendrick departed and now watched in curiosity as the boys and Charlie came in. She whickered a greeting to Charlie but gave the cubs a wary eye. She knew that they, like Kendrick, weren’t human.

  Addie patted the horse, calming her. Charlie’s glance took her in, noting at once that she wore the shirt Kendrick had left the house in. The man was no fool.

  “Do you still ride her?” Addie asked to cover her awkwardness.

  Charlie laughed, going along with it. He wouldn’t embarrass her. “Me? No. But you’re welcome to, and the boys might want to.”

  “Nah,” Robbie said at once. “She won’t let me. Wolves eat horses.”

  “I wouldn’t eat her,” Brett said. “What do tigers eat?”

  “Well, now, let’s see,” Charlie said. “Tigers mostly live in India, so they’d eat elephants, wouldn’t they?”

  Brett and Zane went round-eyed. “A whole elephant?” Zane bleated. “I don’t think I could eat a whole elephant. What else do they eat?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Well, sometimes, people.”

  “Ewwww,” the cubs said at the same time. Brett finished, “I’d never eat people. People are nice, like Addie. She gives us pie. Can we have some pie, Addie?”

  Addie shook her head in wonder. “You just had breakfast.”

  “I know, but we’re hungry again,” Brett said, and Zane agreed.

  “They’re always hungry.” Robbie shared a look with Addie, one that adults might as they contemplated the antics of the kids.

  “’Course they are,” Charlie said. “They’re growing. Like you, Robbie. Tell you what, I’ll have Addie come and look at what all I have, and see what we can do. I might have to go to town for supplies,” Charlie said to Addie. “Wasn’t expecting company.”

  “The ranch has been closed ten years, you said?” Addie asked him.

  Charlie shrugged. “I didn’t close it down, not really. Edna wouldn’t have wanted that. But guests just stopped coming.”

  “We’re guests,” Brett announced at the top of his voice. “We’ll be the best guests, ever.”

  The horse danced back nervously at his loudness, and Robbie rolled his eyes. He didn’t admonish the little ones though.

  “All right, then, let’s go make a shopping list,” Addie said.

  Charlie was as eager as the cubs. “Come on, then—” He stopped and cocked his head, frowning suddenly. “Do I hear a cell phone?”

  Addie looked down. Something was ringing under a hunk of straw in the corner, the sound incongruous with the peaceful barn.

  Robbie and the cubs ran forward, Robbie reaching the source of the noise first. He pulled out an old-style flip phone from the layers of straw. The little window in front showed a number and a name in tiny letters.r />
  “Seamus,” Robbie read.

  Brett and Zane shouted with excitement and started jumping up and down. They grabbed hands and kept jumping. “It’s Seamus. It’s Seamus. It’s Seamus. Answer it, Robbie!”

  Addie had heard Kendrick and Ben mention Seamus. “Who is he exactly?” Addie asked them.

  “One of Dad’s trackers,” Robbie answered, more subdued. He opened the phone and said cautiously, “Hello?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Dad’s not here,” Robbie said into the phone, his brow puckering. “I mean, he’s here, but not right here. What do you want me to do?”

  Addie didn’t like this. While Kendrick had spoken about contacting Seamus, she wasn’t certain this was a Shifter who could be trusted. Plus, just because the caller ID read “Seamus,” anyone could have stolen the phone and called in an attempt to locate Kendrick.

  She took the phone from Robbie so quickly he didn’t have time to fight for it.

  “Hello,” she said into it, voice firm. “I can’t let you talk to the cubs. If you want, I’ll take a message and have their father call you back.”

  “Who—” The word cut off, and there was a long silence at the other end of the line.

  Addie suspected that the Who? had been the first word of Who the hell is this? But Seamus—if it were Seamus—obviously didn’t want to speak to Addie.

  “I’ll tell him you called,” she said. “Good-bye.”

  Another startled exclamation came through before Addie clicked off the phone and closed it.

  This wasn’t Kendrick’s phone, she was certain. Kendrick had broken and flushed her phone, and she was pretty sure he’d done the same to his, not wanting it to give away their position. If he’d had a phone, he wouldn’t have had to ask Ben to deliver messages for him.

  Should she take it into the mare’s stall and let her stomp on it? A thousand pounds of horse would probably smash it pretty well.

  Addie brushed off the last of the hay from the device, slid it into her pocket, and pasted on a smile for the waiting cubs. “Come on. Let’s go see about those groceries.”

 

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