Unleashing the Storm

by Sydney Croft

  Swallowing a groan, she stepped into the wolf pen and played with the dozen wolves and wolf-hybrids, let them tell her about their day. The easiest of the nondomestic animals to communicate with, wolves were so open to learning and sharing.

  Unlike a certain male human she’d attacked for sex.

  This time she did groan, sank onto a boulder and let the wolves surround her. She had no idea what had happened, had very little memory of the events following the oral sex. All she knew was that desperation had seized her, and then she found herself on top of Tom, milking his orgasm for what she needed. Flashes of her actions punched her brain in tiny, painful blows.

  She’d leaped on him. Nearly choked him with the cuffs. Snarled like a demon.

  Never, ever, in her twenty-seven years had she been so out of control. Not when she diligently planned every aspect of her life in order to avoid desperation and a loss of restraint. To avoid the sickness and pain that came when sex didn’t.

  And now the strangeness surrounding her had thrown all her careful planning into chaos, had turned her life upside down and left her spinning and as powerless as a turtle on its back. Tom certainly hadn’t helped things by taking her prisoner and taunting her.

  To be fair, though, he’d revised his ultimatum, had at least given her the illusion of having a choice. Go with him and live, or stay and die. The part of her that liked to breathe wanted to go. The stubborn part of her, the same part that didn’t trust anyone who even hinted at being military or government, wanted to stay and prove she could make it on her own. Even if staying meant leaving on her own terms later. She’d done it before.

  Confusion ate at her. She’d fed all her house animals and left notes for the owners, just in case. But no matter what she decided, she’d still have to deal with Tom, would have to actually speak with him shortly. Her time was almost up, and they’d left things open-ended and awkward last night.

  It was clear that he’d been clueless regarding the seriousness of her sexual needs, and oddly enough, he seemed to be trying to make it up to her. Their matings since the incident in the field had been silent, but he’d been attentive, had taken the time to make her come over and over.

  He’d stayed with her after the first time, like he wanted to talk, but she’d fled. Her emotions had become a jumbled mess…she hated him for tearing apart her life, yet her confusion over how she’d taken him like an uncontrolled beast stabbed at her like the tines on a pitchfork. He could have stopped her, but she wouldn’t have made it easy, and he’d have had to hurt her. Obviously, he didn’t want to hurt her, or he’d have done it already.

  Or maybe his bosses had wanted her unharmed. So they could harm her themselves, experiment on her, like what happened in movies. And what if his agency was the bad one, and Derek had belonged to the good one? What Derek had said about the lemonade had sparked a memory, and after putting two and two together, she realized her curry had not gone bad, that Tom had drugged them. Besides, she had no proof that one word Tom said had been the truth, and she’d smelled meat on him during their last mating, so really, she shouldn’t suffer guilt over anything.

  Feeling inexplicably better, she bid the wolves good night and headed toward the big cat pens.

  At the entrance to the fully enclosed area that housed nearly fifty cats ranging from ocelots to tigers, she paused. The throbbing had begun, and she’d need Tom again in a few minutes. She hung her head and closed her eyes, because dammit, she’d give anything to have another man right about now, one who wasn’t so scary, who didn’t bury bodies as easily as he breathed. Maybe she should have tried to run for it today, tried to sneak out with the visitors.

  But if he was right, if he was her only hope…she couldn’t risk running. Not even to find someone else to service her.

  One thing was certain: She wasn’t joining his stupid agency. Once the threat was over, maybe she could return here. If she was still in danger, she could assume yet another name and find work elsewhere. She was an expert at starting over, had been ever since she’d been forced to leave her dog training business after some men had piled out of a van one day and tried to drag her inside. Her dogs had saved her, but at a high price—a dozen had been killed. She’d had to go on the run, because the men came back two days later, and suddenly the police, who had lauded her as the best trainer of police dogs in the world, had suddenly decided to arrest her.

  She’d had no doubt that the government had been behind the van incidents, as well as the sudden police turnaround. She’d been arrested too many times for disturbing the peace and for suspicion of being an accomplice in violent animal-rights crimes. But now, after what Tom had said, she wasn’t so sure about who had tried to grab her.

  The sound of a tiger chuff brought her back into the present, where her body was craving Tom, but if this was the last time she’d ever see her babies, she needed to spend time with them first. Besides, he would be keeping a close eye on his watch and would find her, if he wasn’t already nearby. She sniffed the breeze but caught no trace of him, which meant little; he could be upwind.

  “Hey, kids,” she said, as she stepped inside the main entrance and then carefully closed the gate.

  A black jaguar stretched up the chain-link fence next to her in greeting, and she stuck her hand through the feeding slot to scratch his belly. Smiling, she passed the lynx and cougar pens, giving everyone an affectionate pat. She entered the two lion and liger—lion/tiger hybrids—pens to play with them for a bit, and then she visited the refuge’s three Siberian tigers.

  The two females, Anya and Nika, immediately settled into deep, rumbling purring as they brushed against her hips, knocking her around the pen with their gentle enthusiasm. Anya playfully hooked her paw around Kira’s calf and pulled, nearly dumping her on her butt.

  Across the pen, Pasha, the big white male, paced. He kept his head low, his eyes locked on Kira. One lip lifted in a half snarl.

  “What are you doing, boy?” she asked, and he didn’t answer.

  Pasha often didn’t. Fiercely intelligent, he’d always been difficult to read, one of the few animals she’d encountered who could block her probing mind.

  Anya and Nika began a wrestling match, and Pasha roared. He took a step toward Kira, his sharp teeth flashing in the overhead refuge lights.

  “You think you’re tough, huh?” She bent at the waist, caught his gaze and held it, something no one should ever try with a big cat.

  Pasha snarled, crouched.

  She took a slow, stalking step toward him. He growled low in his throat. She growled back.

  “You don’t want to mess with me, baby,” she whispered, and this time she got a response. A vision. A picture of her trapped beneath him, his mouth closed around her skull.

  She wheeled around, took three steps, and then suddenly she was on the ground with seven hundred pounds of tiger on top of her. Rancid, hot puffs of breath washed over her face as Pasha opened his mouth around her head. Hard teeth bit into her scalp, but the pressure, though intense, didn’t hurt.

  You win, Pasha. But I’m getting faster. I got an extra step in tonight.

  The big cat made some snorting noises and released her head, but he held her down just because he could. She felt a mouth close around her foot, and another around her arm. The affection, respect and gratitude all three cats felt for her shimmered across her body, made it tingle in the way it always did when animals communicated their emotions.

  The tigers sensed her worry, and were, in their tiger way, trying to comfort her.

  She sent all the love and comfort right back at them, because she had no idea what the future held for them, and they needed support more than she did.

  Lying there like a big chew toy, she glanced at her watch, surprised that she’d spent over two hours saying good-bye to her babies. Then again, the tension crackling inside could have clued her in to the time. She closed her eyes, concentrated on holding back the throbbing need that would, in a moment, force her to seek out Tom. Heat
built in her veins, desire stretched through her like a deep, sexy moan. The scent of sun-warmed skin and grass tickled her nostrils as her body remembered his smell. Wetness bloomed between her legs as it prepared to mate, and ravenous hunger clawed at her.

  The beast wanted to be fed.

  CHAPTER

  Ten

  WEDNESDAY 11 P.M. MST

  Twenty hours and counting, and Ender found himself flat on his back on the bed in his overheated room in the old farmhouse, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to be on the road before midnight. Midnight was when the security that surrounded the refuge pared down considerably, leaving two lonely guards on either side of the large plot of land. Since the refuge didn’t officially close until ten, and some nights even later depending on foot traffic and tours that got waylaid looking at the more exotic animals, he wasn’t worried that Itor would come in much sooner than that. Many animals preferred to hunt their prey under the cover of night, and he was no exception.

  No, he had other things he was worried about. Like if Kira had made her choice yet. He hadn’t been able to get a read off her all day, his brain effectively turning to mush when he was in her presence and turning off when he was inside her. At that point, he was powerless to do anything but let everything else wash away but the feel of flesh on flesh.

  Had he made his choice was the bigger question, and one he refused to answer. Instead, he hoisted himself off the mattress and threw his belongings into the bag he’d brought with him to the refuge yesterday. After studying his gun for a second, he loaded it, unlocked the safety and tucked it into the bag’s front pocket. The bag hung at hip level, the pocket perfect for easy access without calling too much attention if his hand rested there. Now he just needed to find her.

  Their last mating, as she liked to call it, was a little over four hours ago, and he’d been surprised that she hadn’t come into the house to get him by now. He’d told her where he’d be and normally she was on him before he had a chance to go looking. And while nothing tripped his internal alarm, his gut still tightened and his gait took on speed. He used the cover of dark and a backwoods path that only the workers used, to arrive within seconds at the more secluded part of the refuge, the place where Kira told him she always ended her days.

  The wolves lifted their heads and began a mournful howl as he sped past them, his radar honed for Kira. He was almost at the end of the line of the large habitats when he saw her, inside the cage with the tigers. With the biggest of the big cats lying on top of her, mouth open and teeth bared.

  For a second, he froze in place, afraid that a move on his part could startle the black and white beast whose jaws were too close to Kira’s neck for his comfort. His hand moved slowly to the gun in his bag, and the only thing stopping him from taking the tiger out immediately was the fact that Kira would probably never forgive him.

  Since when did he give a shit what anyone thought about him?

  Forgiveness was the last thing he’d ever needed. And this would be a perfect opportunity to do his job with a captive audience.

  What the fuck was happening to him? He’d thought maybe the lack of protein had screwed with his head, and while he did feel stronger after eating the burgers earlier, his mind was still not fully his. It hadn’t been since he’d caught wind of Kira.

  His hand steadied on the grip of the gun when both the tiger and Kira turned their heads toward him. He nodded, waited for her to give him some kind of signal, something, any way to help her, when suddenly she hooked a strong leg around the tiger’s back. He tensed, the tiger snarled and let itself flip onto its back and Kira just rubbed a hand over its stomach as it lay, belly up and purring like some kind of fucking house cat.

  She smiled over at him and he got a sudden, intense hit of just how unbelievably special this woman was.

  All he could do was shake his head at her and turn away so she wouldn’t see the relief on his face. He took his hand away from the butt of the gun, let the bag drop to the ground. He let his legs sink to the soft earth and he lay on his back like the tiger, stared up at the stars and let Kira finish whatever it was she was doing.

  Within minutes, he heard the soft clink of a cage closing, a low, collective growl from the big cats that reverberated through to his soul, and saw Kira standing over him.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” he asked. She smiled down at him, her skin damp from exertion, her eyes liquid amber under heavy lids. Her full lips remained slightly parted, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. For the first time in all of this, he wanted to sweep her mouth with his, and he tore his gaze away. The tank top she wore emphasized her full breasts, nipples already hard with excitement, and she still wore the shorts he’d been pulling off of her all day. In the barn. By the old well. In the kitchen. And in the small bathroom reserved for the tourists. They’d nearly taken the sink off the wall with that one.

  “Are you jealous? Do you want to wrestle with me, big boy?” Her voice was throaty, sounded slightly out of breath as she placed her feet on either side of his hips and lowered herself onto him, too reminiscent of last night for comfort.

  “I’m not a boy, Kira. I thought I’d proven that to you by now,” he said quietly, his body tensing against hers as she brought her hands to run along his shoulders, up his neck and then through his hair. He smelled her, the need, the want thoroughly imbibed by his nervous system until it cut away his vision for anything else but her.

  He reached behind his neck to grab her wrists and push them away, down to her sides. She growled, deep in her throat, brought her hands back up and tried to lie on him, but he used his speed to grab and pin her to the ground, much in the same way he’d seen the male tiger do.

  She arched against him, her ass rubbing demandingly against his crotch, and he pressed her, not so gently, into the dirt. Jesus Christ, his heart was still racing, even though she was safely out of the cage and in his arms and for a second he buried his face in her hair, smelling the scent that was uniquely hers.

  As much as he wanted to know what choice she’d made, he wanted this moment more.

  “What took you so long?” she was asking, palms down and still pushing against the ground and against him at the same time. He finally let her, eased himself back until she was up on all fours. His hand drifted around to her waist, slid along her flat abs to unbutton her shorts and yank them down. She lifted her knees slightly off the ground so he could drag the fabric past them, and left the shorts to tangle around her ankles, keeping her legs locked in place as his fingers began to stroke her. He kept his other hand steady and heavy on her lower back, grounding her, while she lifted her head and groaned, pushed back against his steady rhythm.

  This was the first time he’d teased her all day—he’d learned his lesson effectively last night, but now…now he wanted to play, didn’t want a quick end.

  “Are you okay, Kira?” he asked.

  “Yes. Oh, yes,” she murmured. He pulled her shorts off her ankles and spread her legs wider. He bent his head to taste her again, letting his tongue dip into her sweet wetness, licking, sucking her clit, using her hips to push her against him in order to get deeper inside of her as her orgasms started to roll through her. She came against his lips, his teeth, over and over until he realized he could die happily, just like this.

  For a second, he wondered what it would be like, what she would be like, when she wasn’t in a heat cycle, and pushed that thought out of his head. He wouldn’t be around for that.

  She wouldn’t want you anyway.

  He nibbled her thigh, reluctant to part with what he was doing to give her what she needed. But her breath had started to come fast, and her head hung low and he knew this was a test of trust.

  He knelt behind her, brushed his erection between her soft folds. She shivered, let out a laugh laced with relief. No matter how many times he’d taken her today, his dick sprang to life from the dead whenever he was in range of her pheromones.

  He took her with one long s
troke and her pussy contracted around his cock greedily. He bent forward so he was on all fours too, his body covering hers as they rocked together, hard and fast, their groans mingling with the howls that surrounded them in the dark.

  His orgasm took him by surprise—he’d been concentrating on her so much, he hadn’t realized how close to the edge she’d brought him. He lifted his head toward the sky, let out something akin to a howl as the blood coursed through his veins, and he felt more alive than he had in a long time.

  He rested his forehead against the bare skin on her upper back, where her top had risen up, while he tried to put his mind in working order. After a minute, he released her hips, rested on his knees. She straightened and stretched while he watched the scattering of muscles on her slim back flex.

  She was so much stronger than she looked.

  She turned and he handed over her shorts, stood to pull his own jeans up. He checked his watch: 2330. Too close to midnight for comfort.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, her eyes on his bag. He nodded, lifted it and put it on his shoulder. He let his hand rest casually against the outside flap and waited a beat.

  His throat went dry when she didn’t say anything else, just zipped and buttoned her shorts and tucked in the tank top. Then she looked back at the cage that held the big cats. They were resting, a big pile of fur together by the large rocks in the far corner.

  “I can’t,” she started, and his palm tensed against the cool gunmetal.

  He’d slipped his hand inside the pocket, his subconscious taking over because it knew his conscious mind was too full of thoughts, of sex, of Kira, of everything, to do the job it needed to do. The part of him that was trained not to give a shit about anything but the job would take her down without a moment’s hesitation.