“Better you than me. I’ll see you back at the boarding house tonight,” Lainey said.
She walked over to the general store, where she bought a couple of sketch pads and some colored pencils and spray fixative so that the sketches wouldn’t smear. The streets were crowded with shifters; the small town was filling up more and more as the wedding day grew closer.
If Katherine hadn’t booked that room at the boarding house a year ago, before Loch had proposed to Ginger, the room would have been snapped up in a heartbeat by wedding guests, and Lainey would never have had the chance to take Katherine’s place. The boarding house was full of wedding guests for the next week. So was the one motel in town, Marigold had told her. People were sleeping in mobile homes, pitching tents in a little tent city which had sprung up outside of town, crashing on friend’s couches…
Was this coincidence part of the whole “fated mate” thing? Had fate led her to be right where she should be, so she could meet the right person?
But why would fate be so cruel as to dangle the world’s sexiest wolf shifter right in front of her, at exactly the wrong time in her life, when she could do nothing about it?
She knew what Marigold would say if she asked her: Patience. It will all work out the way it’s supposed to.
Of course, that was easy for Marigold to say when she was living with her adoring fiancé in an adorable little cabin on her great-aunt’s property. Everything had worked out for her; she had nothing to worry about.
Lainey stood on the sidewalk, debating what to do next. She could go back to the boarding house, help out with some chores, and then sit outside and sketch the sunset. She could go to the Beaudreau Mansion and do some sketches there, but she knew that her desire to do so was only a flimsy pretext to “accidentally” run into Tate again. Literally run into him.
A low purr rumbled up in her throat as she pictured what that would be like, stumbling on soft earth and then falling against his hard body. Would he be hard all over? Her cleft oozed juices of arousal at the thought of it.
Okay, so the Beaudreau Mansion was definitely out.
“Hello,” a sensual male voice called out. “If it isn’t the lovely Katherine.”
She turned. Hamilton Hooper was sitting on a bench by the general store.
“Hello, Hamilton.” She sat down next to him.
“There’s quite a commotion here, isn’t there?” He smiled without humor, watching the crowds of shifters wandering the streets.
“How is it going? Are the police making any progress on the tiara theft?”
“Not that they’ve shared with me,” Hamilton said.
Lainey could smell whiskey on his breath. He leaned back on the bench and stared off in the distance, looking morose.
“You want to know a secret?” he said, suddenly. “I wanted to be an actor more than anything, but I’m only good at one thing, and that’s not acting. It’s making people want to have sex with me. That’s what I’m good at.”
“That sounds…rather empty, after a while,” Lainey said. “If there’s no love involved.”
“It’s true, and yet that’s what I do. Again and again.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I do so hate to be alone. Then I have to listen to the sound of my own thoughts.” He spoke in the tone of an actor, as if he were on a stage. His eyes were fixed on some invisible point on the blue horizon.
“You’re a shifter. Maybe someday you’ll meet your fated mate…if that’s really a thing.”
He smiled ruefully at that. “It is for some people. I don’t think it is for me.”
“Are you going to stay here in town, do you think?” she asked. “There’s that festival for single shifters which happens every October. Supposedly, a lot of shifters meet their fated mates there. Maybe you do have one, and you just haven’t met her yet.”
“I might. I don’t know. I only came out here to help my mother with the store, but she’s getting dottier by the day. I might just sell the store.”
He turned to look at her, suddenly focusing on her with unnerving intensity and leaning in close. There was that expensive cologne again, clinging to him like an invisible cloud. “You’re lonely. I’m lonely. Why don’t we distract each other?”
Lainey shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but it doesn’t really work that way for me. I like some actual emotion to go with my sex.”
He let out a small, self-mocking chortle. “Maybe I’m losing my touch.”
Suddenly, Lainey felt an odd tingling sensation that she’d only felt when Tate was nearby. It was like a new sixth sense she’d developed–a Tate detector. It made the hairs on the back of her neck lift, and she had to fight an almost irresistible urge to purr. She didn’t want to purr because she was sitting next to a morose but seductive Lothario who’d think that she was purring for him.
She looked around, and sure enough, Tate’s truck was parked down the street. He was standing there watching her, an odd expression on his face. Almost—dare she think it? Almost as if he were jealous.
She hesitated. Should she get up and go try to talk to him? Was there any point?
With a scowl, Tate turned away. He climbed in the pickup truck, slammed the door and drove off with an angry squeal of tires. Lainey was surprisingly disappointed to see him go. She wished he’d walked over to her, flirted with her again, made her feel like the sexiest person on earth the way he did just with the way he looked at her…
She sighed and stood up. “Good luck, Hamilton. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
Well, at least someone wants to have sex with me, even if it’s not the right guy, she thought glumly, heading off to her car.
* * *
Either I look totally hot, or I’ve grown horns and a tail without noticing it.
Absolutely everyone was staring at Lainey as she walked into the Hoot Owl, the local honky-tonk where Marigold’s fiancé worked nights as a bartender.
Lainey had been edgy and restless at the boarding house, and had finally decided to head into town for a couple of drinks to take her mind off her problems. And Tate.
She wore one of her new dresses, a midnight blue halter-top dress with blue lace tulle over a flared skirt. Before she’d left, Marigold had insisted on tucking a white rose behind her ear.
The bar was hot and smoky and crowded. There were couples on the dance floor, swaying slowly to the strains of a Tanya Tucker song. Lainey made her way to the bar and ordered a Seven and Seven. She downed half of it in one gulp, self-conscious from all the men staring at her.
Her mother’s voice rang in her ears, chiding her, telling her “girls like you” really should never let themselves become the center of attention. People would just make fun of her.
But here she was, flaunting her assets, and nobody was making fun of her. Instead, people were staring at her as if they were undressing her with their eyes.
“Well, hello, darlin’,” drawled a mildly intoxicated cowboy who was leaning on the bar, his hat tipped back. “If you aren’t just the cutest bobcat I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
What should she say? She really didn’t have this whole sexpot thing down at all.
“I am?” she echoed stupidly. Hell. Could she sound any more awkward?
She downed the rest of her drink in two gulps, as the cowboy stared at her cleavage, and then she felt that tingling again, and a strong, calloused hand closed on her shoulder.
She turned to stare up into Tate’s eyes, and her heart leapt into her throat.
Her pulse accelerated again. The man should come with some kind of warning sign: Danger: This ride should not be attempted by women who are suffering any cardiac condition. May cause racing heartbeat, dry mouth, sweaty palms, and extreme sexual arousal.
“Hello, Tate,” she said. “Where’s your adorable entourage?”
“Kyle and his wife are watching them. Where’s your handsome movie star boyfriend? Although I see you’ve already found a new friend.” He glance
d resentfully at the cowboy.
Lainey’s eyes widened in surprise at the anger in his voice.
He winced. “Sorry. That came out snappier than I meant it to.”
“Good lord, Tate, it almost sounded like you were jealous just then.”
“I was,” he said. “When I see another man talk to you…honestly, I can barely contain myself. When I saw you talking to Hamilton today, and I saw how he was looking at you, I wanted to throttle him.”
She was ridiculously pleased to hear that. “But you barely know me.”
“I know, but ever since the first moment I laid eyes on you…no, before I laid eyes on you…I just had this feeling. I know that sounds crazy, but when you walked up to me I felt this tingling even before you tapped my shoulder, this feeling of excitement and something I can’t describe.” He said it carefully, as if he were afraid she’d laugh at him or stomp off in disgust.
“Me, too,” she blurted out.
He looked at her, his blue eyes pleading. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me where you’re from. I want to know all about you.”
She hesitated. She wanted to, she desperately wanted to. She wanted to share everything about herself with this man. She wanted to share her heart, her soul, her life story and all her pains and disappointment and hopes and dreams, and her bodily fluids.
It wasn’t that easy, though. A lifetime of disappointment with men, capped with finding out the real reason that her fiancé had proposed to her, hadn’t just damaged her ability to trust, it had stomped on it with steel-toed boots and left it crushed and flattened. She’d just met this man. How could she be sure that he really cared about her? Sure, it seemed as if he really liked her, but it had seemed as if Miles liked her, too.
She took a deep breath, and met his gaze. “I want to tell you. I just can’t. There are reasons why I can’t.”
“It seems like you’re running from something,” he said, and then the next song came on so loudly that she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“What?” she shouted.
“Let’s get out of here!” he yelled.
Now, that was a tempting offer. She knew she shouldn’t, because every minute she spent with this man, she felt as if she were falling for him more and more, but she couldn’t stop herself. Hanging out with him for one evening didn’t mean any kind of commitment, did it?
“Let me just use the rest room,” she yelled above the noise. That drink had gone right through her, and she didn’t want to try to flirt with a full bladder.
When she got to the restroom, she turned to glance back at him, and saw him holding up the glass that she’d just been drinking from. Odd, she thought. But then she put it out of her head, used the bathroom, and spent several minutes checking her hair and makeup before she finally went back out to meet him.
The two of them left the bar together, and he put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to his pickup truck. His touch felt so right, so strong, so comforting.
“Are you purring?” he asked, as they reached the passenger side door.
“What? No!” She blushed furiously.
He put both his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him, and she felt the thick length of his erection pressing against the fabric of his jeans.
“I was hoping you were,” he said in a low, sexy murmur. “I want to make you purr.”
“Okay,” she admitted, looking up at him. “Maybe I was purring a little bit.”
She’d never, ever purred for a man before. And a wolf shifter, at that! What was happening to her?
He smelled so good, she wanted to bury her face in his hair and breathe him in. His arms were as strong as steel, looping around her, pressing her up against him. He was rock hard, from head to toe.
He looked into her eyes and for a moment she thought, prayed, that he’d kiss her lips, but instead he just smiled, a slow sensual curl of his lips that sent a rush of moisture to her already soaked panties.
“I want to take you to a beautiful spot,” he said, and he let go of her and opened the door to the truck. She wanted to fling herself back into his arms and rub herself up against him, but she bit her lip and forced herself to cling to the last little bit of her dignity.
“I can’t wait,” she said, and climbed into the truck.
It wasn’t the view that she couldn’t wait for.
He turned on the radio and country music blared from the truck’s speakers, songs of love and heartbreak. They drove without speaking for several miles, the wheels rumbling over the country roads, and he turned down a dirt path that took them to the top of a small clearing, where he parked. She climbed out without speaking, hands trembling with anticipation.
This incredibly hot man is going to have sex with me. It will be the best I’ve ever had. She didn’t even try to hide the purr that vibrated in her throat.
The summer air was sultry and warm, and the faintest of breezes caressed her and rustled through the tree branches. A chorus of cicadas serenaded them.
“What I was starting to say back at the bar…it seems like you’re running from someone,” he said.
He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, and she felt desire shuddering through her. She leaned into him, drinking in his warmth, his earthy scent.
“You could say that,” she said.
“I would never let anyone hurt you.”
“It’s not like that,” she said. “Family stuff. Complicated family stuff.”
“Isn’t it always?”
“I have to leave in a week and a half now. I just came here to get away from it all. To forget. To be a different person.”
“Why? What’s wrong with the person that you were?”
“The person I was?” Tears suddenly pricked her eyes, and she blinked hard. She didn’t want to cry, to ruin this night of incredible magic. “She let people walk all over her, and she felt fat and ugly and undesirable. Then she came here and met an incredibly handsome wolf shifter who made her feel sexy and desirable for the first time in her life.”
“Are men blind where you come from?” he asked, and bent down to kiss her. His large, rough hands were gentle as they cradled her face. He brushed his lips against hers, and she let out a small moan.
Her lips parted to accept his kiss, and he probed her mouth, tongue sweeping through it, swirling with hers in an intimate dance. The world seemed to drop away from her, and she closed her eyes and let him lead her in the most intimate and sensual kiss she’d ever experienced.
He probed the inner recesses of her mouth, his tongue caressing, strong and firm.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she felt a low moan rumbling from deep inside her. She put her arms around him, fingers lacing behind his neck, and kissed back, hungrily. He tasted sweet and smoky, so delicious, she felt as if she’d never need food again. He could feed her every hunger.
Finally, he pulled away slowly, still cradling her face and staring into her eyes. His gaze was the most intimate that she’d ever experienced, and it was tender and full of longing.
“You are sexy and desirable,” he told her. “I want you so bad it hurts. If I can’t have you forever, can I have you for tonight? We can just take it day by day. See where it goes.” His tone was rough and trembling at the same time.
She was still dizzy, dazed with pleasure from his kiss. “What did you say? Tonight…yes…”
He moved to kiss her again, and at the same time untied the straps of her halter dress. The straps fell to her waist, exposing her breasts, and he cupped them gently, his thumbs caressing her nipples.
Clothes. He was wearing too many clothes. She needed to feel him up against her now, skin against skin. If they only had tonight, she didn’t want to waste a single second of their time together.
The two of them began fumbling with each other’s clothes, frantic and clumsy, tearing and yanking and flinging aside his jacket, her dress, her panties, his jeans…
Then Tate swept her up in his arms as if
she were light as a feather, cradling her like something precious. He sank to his knees and laid her down on the soft grass.
She lay there, looking up at him, marveling at his rugged good looks. His body was broad and muscular, his flat stomach carved out in a perfect six pack. There were four claw marks down the front of his chest, which had left permanent scars. They only made him look that much more ruggedly handsome. He had a light dusting of hair across his chest, and a treasure trail of curly hairs that started at his navel and led down to, oh God, the most glorious cock she’d ever seen. It was thick and it was rigidly erect, pointing up so high it was almost pressed up against that flat stomach.
Tate knelt above her, staring down, his expression a mix of tenderness and desire. Then he slid on top of her, nuzzling her neck with hungry kisses. He nipped at her tender flesh, and she whimpered in pleasure.
The crescent moon overhead was a silver smile, and the glittering stars winked down at her. Her senses were heightened as they had never been before, making his every touch exquisitely pleasurable.
So this is what pure pleasure feels like, she thought, as he moved his mouth on to her right nipple, sucking on it while he caressed her left nipple with his fingers.
“Your breasts are so beautiful,” he murmured, and then he nipped at the engorged ruby tip, wrenching another whimper from her. He teased the sensitive peak with his tongue, swirling, sucking, before moving on to her other breast. “I want to taste all of you.”
She threaded her fingers through his silky-soft hair, guiding him. Her boldness shocked her, but his obvious arousal gave her a confidence she’d never felt before. He truly wanted her. She could tell by the way he looked at her, by the small groans he made as he kissed her, by the way his breathing had turned harsh and guttural.
He moved down lower, kissing her stomach, and she tensed up. She couldn’t help it. She’d spent a lifetime hiding that big belly, binding it in girdles, draping it with flowing rivers of cloth, sucking it in until she couldn’t breathe every time a hot guy walked by.
The Bobcat's Tate Page 7
