Reilly's Tiger Lovers
Page 1
The Tigers of Texas 8
Reilly’s Tiger Lovers
When Reilly O’Neill finds a dead body under the floorboards of her new store in Goldclaw, Texas, she knows she needs help. Brennan and Seth Blackfur step in. Already involved with Brennan, Reilly finds that two tigers in her bed are as much as she can take. And then some. They make good use of the sex toys Reilly has in stock, and show her a trick or two. Then another body turns up and it becomes obvious that someone wants Reilly dead. The police suspect her. Brennan and Seth decide to find the real murderer. Determined to build an independent life for herself, Reilly wants to handle her problems herself, but her tiger lovers make it impossible for her to refuse them. Especially when Reilly discovers she might be pregnant. They want Reilly for good, and they’ll do anything to save her from the threats to her life.
Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 51,000 words
REILLY’S TIGER LOVERS
The Tigers of Texas 8
Em Ashcroft
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
REILLY’S TIGER LOVERS
Copyright © 2016 by Em Ashcroft
E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-357-0
First E-book Publication: June 2016
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
REILLY’S TIGER LOVERS
The Tigers of Texas 8
EM ASHCROFT
Copyright © 2016
Chapter One
Reilly O’Neill walked into the store in Goldclaw with a sense of ownership. She was the owner, for all intents and purposes, and she’d had a say in how the place was set up. After years of scrimping and saving, here she was, her nursing career in the past and a new one on the horizon.
It felt good. After spending every day of her adult life in uniforms that picked up every bit of static, her face scrubbed clean of make-up and the stink of anesthetic and blood in her nostrils, she could finally say good-bye to nursing and do something that promised to be fun. She’d done her research, and she was sure she could make this work.
She lifted her face and sniffed the air. It smelled of sawdust and paint. That would soon go, and then she could fill the air with the beautiful scents that formed part of her stock. She couldn’t wait.
Her store formed one of six in a row, set on a boardwalk, with a wooden canopy above to protect browsers from the heat of the Texas sun. Three were open. This row had been built by Goldclaw Construction after a fire had destroyed this section last year, but the company had done a good job, and carefully designed them to match the other stores on Main Street. Texas-style clapboards and broad windows adorned the fronts, giving a welcoming air. Inside, the décor was repeated, with solid wood floors and paneling. Reilly had chosen to have her walls painted an off-white, but decided against anything fancier. She liked the fresh, open look.
Slowly, she walked around the empty shelves and racks and spun the revolving display unit. She would have two rooms in her store, the smaller one for the more—discerning customer. Her stock should be in the back room and upstairs, waiting for her. The familiar sick sensation churned her stomach when she recalled the outlay, but she’d recoup it soon. She had to. She’d spend the next two days unpacking and arranging everything.
Because of the fire last year, the owners had refused to allow living spaces to be built above the stores, as there were before. Reilly would have preferred to live here and save expenses. She was seeing a rental agency tomorrow about a place. For now, she was staying at the motel at the bottom of the street.
When a man calmly walked through from the back, Reilly almost screamed in shock. Her heart pounded, and her jaw dropped. “Who the fuck are you?”
He halted, dark brows rising. “More to the point, who are you?”
“I’m the tenant.” She stuck her chin out belligerently.
“Ah.” A smile curled his lips. “I’m one of the builders.”
That smile did things to her insides. For a brief instant, she could only see him and that sexy smile. Builders in movies and ads looked like this, not in real life. He was tall, with brown hair and enough of a scruff to make her want to slide her hand over his chin to feel the bristles for herself. And fuck, he was built. As in B-U-I-L-T. A sliver of tanned skin showed between the hem of his navy T-shirt and his worn denim jeans, as if he put it on show to tease her.
Reilly wore jeans too, but she didn’t fill them out nearly so well, and her plaid shirt had seen better d
ays. She’d scraped her hair back into a ponytail, and she didn’t have a scrap of make-up on. Why would she, when she was just surveying her new property? She sure hadn’t expected to see somebody as jaw-droppingly gorgeous as this man.
She wet her lips. “I’m Reilly O’Neill.”
His smile broadened, and oh, mama, it just got better. “I’m Brennan Black—”
At the same time someone behind her said, “Can somebody sign for this, please?”
She spun around to face the delivery person who stood in the open doorway. The woman held a brown cardboard package with both hands. Her tablet lay on top.
“Sure.” Reilly checked the paperwork and signed the tablet. It was just as well they used plain packaging these days, considering the contents.
Before she could take the box, Brennan was by her side and lifting it. Reilly received a grin and a wink from the delivery woman before she turned around and left, wriggling her brown-clad ass a bit more than she needed.
Brennan Black didn’t seem interested in her. He turned to Reilly, the echo of the smile still lingering on his lips. “Where would you like this?”
“In the back room with the other boxes, please.” She tried not to blush. That was a stupid thing to do, considering her profession and the sideline that had enabled her to earn enough to get here. With this man, she reverted to her student years.
She hung back, partly because they couldn’t both go through at the same time, but also because the delivery woman had given her an idea.
Oh yes, those worn jeans hugged a beautiful ass, one made for her hands, if she was honest. She could just imagine gripping them while he pumped into her, using her hold to control him...
Maybe she’d save that particular fantasy until later, when she was lying in her lonely bed. Her panties were getting too wet for comfort. She’d gotten used to that recently—fantasizing instead of doing. It had indirectly led to her current career.
“Through here?” As he nudged the door with his foot, the bottom of the box burst open, and its contents cascaded onto the floor.
“Oh, shit!” Reilly fell to her hands and knees and started to gather up the packets, the cellophane crackling.
Laughing, he put the box down and joined her. His masculine scent rose to her nostrils, sending her senses rioting. If she weren’t already agitated from the contents tumbling, she’d have been so turned on.
But she wasn’t. Her ears were hot, so no doubt they were red. They always burned when she was embarrassed. Why had she tied her hair back?
She felt rather than saw when he realized what he was helping to pick up. Inwardly, she groaned. Fuck, why did it have to be this box?
He sat back on his haunches. “Exactly what kind of store are you opening here?” he asked softly.
“I—um—” Oh, fuck. Dropping the dildo back in the box, she leaned back and met his gaze. “Souvenirs,” she said lamely.
His brows rose. “Some souvenirs. Do you plan to put black drapes over the windows and an ‘Adults Only’ sign?”
She shook her head. “There’s only a few of these things, and they won’t be on general display.”
“Under the counter?” He didn’t sound upset, but she had to go carefully. She didn’t know this community, and she was taking an enormous risk.
“Back room,” she mumbled. “Back in Chicago I ran a party business in my spare time to make some extra money. There’s a lot of profit in these, so I bought a few things here to see how they went. But that’s not the focus of the business.”
He leaned right back, sat on the floor. “Okay, sell me something.”
She swallowed. “I’m used to all female parties.”
He snorted. “You can forget that here. If you’re selling toys, the women’s breed partners will want to know what they’re getting.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure she could do that. She tried to explain. “It’s like acting. When I do the parties, I’m doing it as somebody else, if you see what I mean.” It didn’t sound such a good idea now. “Do you think people around here will mind?” This was a small town, shape-shifter or not. What had she been thinking? “I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea.”
“Not necessarily.” If he’d been wearing a cowboy hat, he’d have tilted it back as he gave her a shit-eating grin.
“What do you mean?” There, at least all the dildos were back in the box.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I just want some of your sales technique. C’mon, sell me something. Let me see what you can do.” His steel gray eyes glinted.
“I can’t just...” Oh, what the hell. Why not? Without looking, she dipped into the box and pulled out the first thing she touched. She got to her feet. It helped her to stand up and face him. When she ran the sex toy parties, she usually let her hair down, fluffed it up and wore a miniskirt, but a ponytail and jeans would have to do. “First I need to know that you’re over twenty-one.”
He grinned. “Guess you can see that I am. I can make my own food, too.”
She daren’t meet his eyes, not until she was in full party mode. “Sure you are. Well, this isn’t just for solo play.” She glanced at the item—a tiger dildo. She’d been hoping for a strip of condoms, or something a bit less—obvious. “You can invent all kinds of games with your partner.”
“Partners,” he corrected her. “Most women around here have two partners, not one.”
The accent, the way he said, “pardners,” slew her. It was so fucking sexy. Hastily, she snapped her attention back to the thing in her hand. “All the items are sterilized and kept in safe containers, but I’d still advise a good wash with soap and water before you use them for the first time.”
“And how do you get something that size into a woman?”
“The tiger is our second biggest item. From small to large, they all have their purposes.”
“Second biggest? The residents around here aren’t going to take kindly to that.”
He surprised a laugh out of her. Shit, of course they weren’t, being, for the most part, shape-shifting tigers. “I guess they’re not.” She arched a brow. “But they’re going to have to prove they’re up to elephant standards, aren’t they?”
He snorted with laughter, and Reilly relaxed. She’d done her job well, and she was in. If she was selling for real, he’d buy that, the accompanying lube, and a few other items. “These are for fun and games in the bedroom. Everything doesn’t have to be so serious, as long as everybody is happy at the end.” She gave a wry grin. “I usually talk about having two men without being unfaithful. I guess I have to up the count to three. How would you feel, ladies, if you had more than one—two men to keep you happy? And when your man—men are busy, you’ll still have something to fall back on!”
Fully aware of the double entendre, he delighted her by laughing again. “Do you do demonstrations?”
She couldn’t tell from his expression if he was getting aroused, or if he was testing her. If she’d seen arousal in his face, she’d have called a halt to the exercise, but she couldn’t.
“Fully dressed, with bananas and watermelons substituting for more intimate parts.”
He shrugged. “That’s a shame. Or maybe not. No man wants his woman demonstrating what they do in the bedroom.” He paused. “Well, not many, anyhow.”
She decided to turn the tables and put him on the spot. “Do you?”
“Sometimes. I can’t say I’d be happy having a woman who went the full way in public, but dancing, and a bit of display—why not?” His smile broadened. “Do you dance?”
“Fully clothed, yes.”
He got to his feet in a lithe, easy movement. “I’ll take you up on that sometime.” He turned the box over in a neat flip, making the still sealed top the bottom, and stretched out his hand for the dildo.
It felt indecent giving it to him. His fingers closed around it, and he studied it thoughtfully, not moving. “I like the idea, although the snarling tiger at the tip is probably going too far for my taste.”
“Uh-huh. I might have just changed my mind. It’s all safe?”
“One hundred percent. I sell the sterilizers and lube, and I have a leaflet on how to be safe with toys.”
“What else do you have?” He dropped the dildo into the box without taking his eyes off her.
“Oh, special condoms, more toys, plugs, nothing too heavy. A few whips.”
“Oh, is that all?” Grinning, he spun on his heel and gave her a grand view of his butt as he carried the box into the storeroom.
She followed, gazing at what her life savings had bought before turning her attention back to him. He stood in the center of the room and laid the box on the top of a firmly settled stack of similar ones.
The room was small, with shelves ranging along one wall, and a table in the middle. A sink was at one end, and a couple of chairs. “I’ll spruce this up in no time,” she said. “I want a cozier atmosphere. I’ll supervise it myself, and use it as another sales area when I’m not holding parties here. The rest of the stock can go upstairs, since I’m not allowed to live here.”
He frowned. “Who said that?”
“The owners, apparently. Didn’t you know?”
His eyes narrowed. “No, I didn’t. Sure, what happened before was unfortunate, but it was arson. It was nothing to do with the buildings.”
She gasped. “It wasn’t? I mean, I read the reports online, but they said that arson was being investigated, not that it was sure and certain.”