Liars and Tigers

by Breanna Hayse

  Liars & Tigers

  (are bared – oh my!)

  By

  Breanna Hayes

  ©2014 Breanna Hayes

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by BH Blushing®,

  BH Blushing LLC

  P.O. Box 211

  Ivy, VA 22945

  The trademark BH Publishing LLC®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Hayes, Breanna

  Liars and Tigers (Are Bared – Oh My!)

  Cover Design by EH Graphics

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of contents:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About Breanna Hayse

  Chapter 1

  "Down girl! Retract your claws!" The older man laughed, ducking the flying stapler that had barely missed his head. Misha Miller hissed, gently clutching the tiny bundle in her left arm.

  "You scared the shit out of me, Jack! Learn to knock."

  "How's the cub doing?" he asked, approaching her and ignoring her comment.

  Misha's face softened as she gazed down at the three-day-old Bengal tiger in her arms. She felt herself choking back tears. "I can't get him to eat. Jack? I don't think he's going to make it."

  "Come on, Tiger, if anyone can save him, it's you. It's not your fault his mama rejected him."

  Misha grimaced lightly at hearing her special nickname. She knew that she wasn't called 'Tiger' because she was the primary caretaker of the refuge's Bengal population; but rather because she had the grumpy disposition of the mighty cat. With sharp teeth and claws. Few dared to cross her path, needless to say.

  "Yeah, I know. He's just so tiny and helpless. He'll suck on my finger, but I can't get him to take anything substantial."

  "What did Doc Holland say?"

  "Big help he was. The old quack said, and I quote, 'It's in God's hands, girl. You can't save them all,'" Misha mimicked the old veterinarian's voice. "How the hell did that man become a premier exotic wildlife specialist with such a fucked up attitude?"

  Jack shrugged. "He's realistic, that's all. Now, here's my question to you, little girly; what are you going to do for the next two days? You're off, and you can't be coming in to take care of this kit." He looked genuinely concerned.

  "Yeah, I can, I mean—"

  "Mish, baby, listen… you've been up round the clock since he was born. You're exhausted and, to be honest, you look like hell warmed over. I've had three-week-old leftovers that look better than you do right now. It's only fair that if I have to deal with your lousy attitude and big mouth, I deserve to at least get some enjoyment looking at your pretty face."

  "You're an asshole, Jack."

  "So you've told me many, many times. What's your solution? You're putting yourself in danger if you enter the dens like this. You are too tired and weak, when you need to be alert."

  "I've never been attacked. There's no reason for them to come after me now."

  "True, but you were the pride alpha. They'll sense your exhaustion, hon. You know that."

  Misha was silent. Her boss was right. She would give off the scent of debilitated prey. "What should I do then? I can't let him die," she said wearily.

  Jack leaned against her desk, reaching out to stroke the tiny fuzzy head. He was such a freakin' bleeding heart about these critters, and she knew it. "Take him home with you."

  "What? You know my landlord doesn't allow pets! He would evict me immediately if he found out." Misha looked surprised.

  Jack shrugged with a grin. "It's not like the cub's very noticeable right now, or will make a lot of noise. I'll get you a permit for off-site care too, just in case the refuge has issues. If we have to lose him, I'd rather he wasn't alone," the older man said sadly.

  Misha sniffed, bringing the weak cub to her cheek. The tiny thing weighed less than 2 pounds, especially since he had not been eating. His eyes were still closed, and the black stripes against his rich orange coat crossed all over his tiny body. If he survived, he would be stunning. If he survived…

  "Okay, let's do it. I'll need formula…"

  "I'm on it. Call me if anything happens. Please," Jack said, kissing the top of the woman's head. Misha nodded, holding the baby close. She had to believe she had the touch that Jack said she did—if anyone could find a way, Misha Miller would.

  ***

  "I guess the first thing we should do is give you a name, little boy," Misha said to the sleeping cub, as she drove her oversized pick-up truck to her house. She had rented a nice sized piece of property on the outskirts of Temecula, complete with a small, manufactured home. It was cheap and secluded, and that was all she wanted. Her only complaint was that Old Man Riggins hated anything on four legs, and also got his rocks off by making her miserable at every inopportune moment.

  At twenty-eight, Misha was very much a loner, not caring for the company of people or their drama. She had started working for the forestry department as soon as she graduated college at UC Davis, as an expert in wildlife conservation and management. Her specialty was felids. That in itself was a twist of fate; she fancied herself more of a dog person.

  As she drove, she recalled how she had ended up with her infamous reputation—which had ultimately landed her in her present position. Fires had raged across the higher Nevada range and a litter of puma cubs had been rescued by the fire squad. Without hesitation, Misha had demanded to be allowed to nurse them back to health and reintroduce them to the wilderness. The on-site vet doubted any would survive, and told her directly not to get her hopes up or spend too much time on them. Stubborn and determined, Misha dove into her new career—being a surrogate mother to big cats.

  Her success opened the eyes of several sponsors; one of whom was Alex Hodges, the director of wildlife services for the San Diego Wild Animal Park, and owner of a private rescue foundation and exotic animal refuge. He was a former Green Beret, and during a jungle training tour, he and his unit had become famous for disbanding poachers who were capturing infant animals to sell. The large, work-hardened, and steely man was said to have been reduced to tears when the newborn panther cub lay limp in his arms, the very first time the unit had come across the illegal wild game hunters. Everyone in the business of exotic animal preservation knew it was on that fateful day that Alex developed an unrelenting passion for keeping wild animals in their natural habitat. Misha had read his proclamations against poaching and his position against keeping healthy wild animals in captivity. His words vowing that he would find a way to hunt down and remove the pure evil of poachers, and those who finance them, had sent shivers down her spine. He was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. He proved that reputation to be deserved when, after twelve years of military service, Alex left the Army to fulfill the crushing need to pursue his goal. He poured the money from his inheritance, his heart, soul, and sweat in
to building the rescue center. Once it was complete, he focused his tracking skills on finding the unique people who shared his passion.

  The rumors of Misha's talents had rippled through the community, and resulted in gaining Alex's attention. The arrogant man had pulled the strings necessary to ensure the woman was relocated from the northern California Rescue/Rehab unit to work privately in his sanctuary. She found herself facing an unexpected—and unwanted—transfer, laced with subtle threats. The primary one included the promise that her new boss had enough connections to prevent her from ever working in her beloved field again if she failed to appreciate the opportunity being handed to her. Blackmailed, livid, and hostile, she'd earned the nickname 'Tiger' the very first day she came face to face with the incredibly handsome, but very arrogant and equally dictatorial, Samuel Alexander Hodges, III.

  Despite the generous salary, and opportunity to be solely responsible for the Big Cat division at the refuge, Misha had adamantly refused. Her passion was being in the field; researching and rescuing, not having to perform like a monkey at an overrated zoo. She'd withheld none of her ardor as she spit out her opinion of both the job and her new boss; glaring up into his face fearlessly as she did so.

  Jack Leden, the man who had urged Alex to make the position available to the girl, had sat back and laughed heartily at the peak of the heated exchange—the moment when Misha informed Alex that she would personally tear off his balls with her bare hands, and feed them to the cats if she ever had the opportunity. Alex, for his part, had loomed over the tiny firecracker of a girl, and threatened to blister her backend if she ever had the guts to try. Jack's laughter rose to fill the room and temporarily distract them both from their yelling. The irate and sputtering couple turned to redirect their glares at him.

  "She's a Tiger, Sam old man. Watch out, she looks like she's about to take a nice hefty bite out of your ass. Don't think she can't do it either. I've know the chit for a while and she is as vicious as a lioness protecting her den."

  "Shut up, Jack. I am not, nor will I ever be, afraid of what anyone thinks they can do to me. Especially someone as small and helpless as a newly hatched chicken. And Sam was my father. No one calls me Samuel, either!" Alex hissed.

  "If you think for one moment that being small means that I am helpless, you are delusional, Samuel," Misha screamed, planting the tip of her hard boot directly into Alex's shin, and watching as he reached over to grab his injury. "And if you believe you can get my cooperation by threatening me, you've got a lot to learn! This chicken has very long teeth and claws, and is not afraid to use them."

  "Go easy on him, Tiger. He signs my paychecks." Jack kissed Misha's cheek before excusing himself from the room. Misha snorted, angrily shaking her short, blonde ponytail, and proceeded to inform Alex Hodges exactly what he could do with his offer of employment and where he could shove his tiny, little cock.

  Alex's face had reddened. "No one talks to me with such blatant disrespect, especially an employee. You had best realize that if you don't work for me, you will not be working anywhere."

  "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but it's about time that you learn what the word 'no' means, Mr. Hodges! Not only learn what it means, but how to be man enough to accept it graciously!"

  The two were still standing toe to toe, arguing hotly with their arms flailing about, when Jack returned with a tiny bundle nestled in his arms. "Miss Miller? Is there anything you can do with this little one? She won't eat. It's been nearly two days now," he said, holding out a bottle. In a moment's time, Misha was on the floor, cradling the baby cougar and joyfully watching her suck the formula from the bottle.

  Alex's mouth hung open as Misha looked up and smiled, her beautiful golden brown eyes filled with happy tears. "I changed my mind, Mr. Hodges. I'll take the job. Just keep your arrogant nose out of my business, and I will allow you to keep it attached to your face. Deal?"

  Two years had passed since that day, and she still had that same love-hate relationship with her overbearing employer. True, he left her to her own devices most of the time; but he still managed to find ways to bother her beyond her ability to regulate her temper.

  The latest episode involved the rental of her home. Alex heard from Scuttlebutt (aka Jack), that Misha had moved out of her little facility owned apartment and rented a place in the heart of grape country. The well-being of his employees was a priority, and Alex's old-fashioned values meant that he did not approve of a single woman living out in the middle of nowhere; especially so close to an animal hating, beer-chugging, sweaty slum lord, who had a reputation for dropping by and illegally inspecting the property of his female tenants without notice. Alex had promptly investigated the jerk, and announced that Misha would not be safe anywhere near him. He then proceeded to forbid her to live there!

  Raging at his audacity and presumptuousness, Misha had bluntly informed her employer that it was none of his damn business, and he had no right to dictate where and how she would live. Alex demanded to personally see her home to make sure her living conditions were adequate, adding that he would give her one hell of a paddling should they fail to meet his approval. Misha, her nose nearly touching his forehead as she leaned across his desk and glared into his eyes, had told him to fuck off, before storming out of his office. The slamming of the door had knocked a picture off the wall, resulting in the satisfying sound of glass shattering as Misha stomped away. That had been three months ago and, blissfully, she had not had reason to talk with the overbearing Alex Hodges since.

  Misha smiled as the cub yawned, stretching out his little paws on the towel at the bottom of the box. "Please live, little one. You can protect me from that big, mean boss of mine. Maybe even eat him! Hopefully, he won't give you the stomach aches that the asshole gives to me," she giggled, scratching the cub's ear. No doubt, turning Alex Hodges into a tiger chew toy would be poetic justice, for sure!

  Chapter 2

  "Did she do it, Jack? Did she take the cub home?" Alex asked, twiddling his pen as he leaned back in his chair.

  Jack nodded. "No problems. I'm just not sure of the game you're playing," he commented, sipping some coffee.

  Alex chuckled. "Sure you do. I'm on Safari. I've been tracking this little chicken for two years, and I'm about to catch it. There are different ways of hunting than with guns, my old friend. Miss Miller is a brilliant scientist with a special way about her, but she's as untamed as those cats she coddles. She's going to get hurt if we don't watch out for her safety. You've said that yourself way too many times. She's too valuable a team member to leave her to her own devices."

  "She won't appreciate your interference. She pretty much hates you and would love to see you on her kitty cats' dinner plates."

  "Whatever. She's still my responsibility. And a very pretty one to boot. Too bad she has such an ugly temper," Alex sighed, twirling the pen between his fingers. "I would love to see her softer side, if she has one."

  "She has one, but it's reserved for the animals. The kid has been through all kinds of hell, and requires a special touch to tame her heart, just like the one she gives her cats."

  "Are you ever going to tell me what happened to her?"

  "That is her story to share if she ever chooses to do so. Mish is very private and only shares her softer side when she feels absolute trust and safety. Believe it or not, the sharp-toothed crocodile you come head to head with is simply her defensiveness."

  "I lived with a sharp-toothed croc. I would not want to do that again."

  "Yeah, buddy, I know. Have you heard anything from Carla and the kids?" Jack's voice softened.

  "No." Alex suddenly looked sad. "As you know, the divorce was finalized several months ago, and Carla is still determined to stay in New York. I get the twins during the summer and Christmas. I miss them," he admitted, thinking of his two year olds. "They always make me laugh with the things they get into. They are so much like the puppies…"

  "It's been a tough time for you," Jack sympathize
d. "If Misha knew that you had a softer side, she would respond to it. Have you ever thought of talking to her? Like a friend?"

  "Misha and I are not friends, nor would I burden her with silly bullshit like this."

  "Hey, don't turn into a snapping turtle with me," Jack scolded. "I know the real you. I was there when this all began. I've seen you cry over the birth of your children and the death of your marriage. This is me, Alex. No pretending."

  "Yeah, you're right. I'm just not ready to give up this sense of control yet." Alex sighed.

  "The control is an illusion and you know it. For five years, you and Carla fought constantly. She took off after the babies were born simply because you refused to sell the refuge. She was specific when she said she wanted you to return to active duty so that her social calendar would not suffer any interference due to your charity events and fund raisers. It has always been about her social status, buddy, not you. She didn't deserve you, and you know it. It is time to get over it and move on."

  Jack turned Alex's chair to look him in the eye. "I am your best friend, and I say this out of love. Carla married you for your money and political connections. She was incensed when you built the reserve, because it tapped into her dreams of having an unlimited expense account. She depended on your father supporting her political aspiration for you. She was not counting on him using his influence as a retired senate leader to help make your dream, not hers, come to life."

  "You warned me not to marry her. You saw all this through her beauty. I should have listened."

  "You should have, but you never do. Carla is as deadly a snake as they come. A Black Mamba wouldn't stand a chance against her venom. But you have always been stubborn, and needed to see for yourself. She's not worth all this self-induced misery of yours."

  "It cost me my children." Alex looked away to stare at the smiling faces of the little boy and girl on the wall.