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Alphas Unbound: 8 Sexy Shifter Romances

Page 11

by Elsa Jade


  He was so looking forward to watching her squirm even more. She was equally sexy when she fidgeted under her mother’s gaze as she’d been when she was indignant in the café because he wouldn’t leave when she ordered him to.

  “How do you like Italy, Mrs. Vasquez?” Rafe took a bite of the calamari, then put a morsel on his fork and offered it to Jax.

  “Beth, Rafael. Don’t call me Mrs. Vasquez. That’s my mother-in-law’s name.” She laughed at the joke, though it was clear this wasn’t the first time she’d made it.

  Jax refused to open her lips, keeping them in a tight line. Rafe nudged the fork closer in her direction.

  She glared at him.

  He winked, changed the fork’s course and slipped it in his mouth.

  “I love Italy,” Beth Vasquez bubbled, oblivious to the undercurrent between him and Jax. “You speak English so well, Rafael,” she gushed. “How is that?”

  “Boarding school.” Rafe didn’t get into the whole story: boarding school after boarding school, kicked out for attitude, fighting, disrespect. That was then.

  “How wonderful. How did you and Jaclyn meet? How long have you been going out?”

  “Beth.” Major cleared his throat. “What matters is that she’s not with that loser who doesn’t want to work. The video game player.”

  Rafe bit back a smile at the darkness of Jax’s gaze and the way a tiny vein in her temple ticked. Christ, he wanted to put his lips to that spot. His tiger had honed in on her heartbeat, and they were synchronized. Her pulse beat in Rafe’s heart and mind.

  “Or shave. That boy never shaved…” Beth was going on and on about Jax’s boyfriend. “And I don’t think she’d have the tattoos if it weren’t for him.”

  Jax gasped.

  Rafe tilted his head her way.

  *

  Jax bit back the remark that was burning to come out. Not everything she did centered on Scotty.

  “Tattoos?” Rafe glanced her way, then looked at her mother.

  Jax was torn between which one of them she’d rather strangle first.

  She put her hand under the table on Rafe’s thigh and squeezed to get him away from the matter.

  She squeezed, and made an uh-uh sound so he’d get that this topic was off-fucking-limits.

  Jesus. His leg muscles have muscles. His quads are tight.

  “Oh, you didn’t know?” Her mother’s mouth dropped open. Then she looked from Jax to Rafe, then back to Jax, as if she’d just realized that this meant that Rafe hadn’t seen her without her clothes on.

  Her mother sighed.

  Oh, great. Just fill that head up with this bullshit romantic fantasy.

  To kill the subject, Jax let her fork fall to the wood floor with a loud clatter. She dropped beneath the table and fought the urge to punch Rafe in the knee.

  She slipped out from under the table and resumed her seat, keeping her eyes glued to her plate. Everyone else was quiet, thankfully.

  “So, back to the tattoos.” Rafe had a smile in his voice.

  She looked up. His dark blue eyes flashed with enthusiasm. A deep golden glow lit up their depths. It was so hard to be pissed at him when she looked at his face.

  Rafe turned his attention to her mother. “How many tattoos?”

  “How long have you two been dating?” her mother asked. “I would have thought you’d seen at least one.”

  “Not long,” Rafe said. “So, more than one?”

  “Forever,” Jax grumbled.

  “Sweet of you to say.” Rafe put his hand on hers.

  His fingers wrapped around hers while she gripped the fork and quenched the urge to stab something.

  Jax inhaled sharply. What was that? An energy was flowing between them, a warmth that traveled throughout her body. She looked up at him to see if he felt it, to see if she was crazy. It felt like she was in a tunnel, and the tunnel was taking her somewhere farther and farther from where she was now. And the farther she went, the more she realized she wasn’t alone in the tunnel; Rafe was there with her.

  “I’d have thought you’d at least seen the tiger,” Jax’s mother was saying, but it sounded like she was far away, her voice distant.

  “Tiger?” Rafe never took his eyes off hers.

  He simply uttered that one word, and his gaze was locked on her as if he were a predator on the savannah and she were his prey.

  Jax fought the urge to shake her head to clear it.

  No, she didn’t feel like prey, but she did feel like she belonged.

  To whom? To what?

  “What tiger?” Rafe’s voice had a timbre that resonated in her body, thrumming her nerve endings, touching areas that were sensitive and yet untouched. His piercing stare was still on her face.

  “The tattoo on her neck.” Her father’s voice had the tinge of disapproval it always carried when it came to her tattoos.

  This time, the disapproval didn’t sting like it usually did. It was insulated from her by the distance created by the tunnel.

  Rafe was still staring at her, and she at him. The world stopped existing for her except as white noise. A million people could have been there, but she couldn’t have concentrated on anything but him.

  And this sensation.

  “You have to show me.” Rafe was talking to her. He wasn’t talking to anyone else. He’d tuned everything out, she could tell, just as she had.

  “You haven’t told him about the tiger?” Her mother’s voice. Still so far away.

  “It’s just a tattoo,” Jax muttered under her breath.

  “Oh, no. It’s so much more than that.” Her mother’s voice was high-pitched and way louder than she wanted it to be. “It’s a dream.”

  “I want to hear all about it.” Rafe’s hand seemed to grow warmer against hers. The undercurrent was stronger, going through every part of her body down to the tip of each extremity.

  “Nothing to tell, really.” Suddenly, Jax felt uncomfortable discussing it. She found herself wishing she’d never shared the dream with her mother, all those years ago.

  “Jaclyn had a dream about a tiger,” her father butted in. “Then she went and saw some kind of palm reader, or tarot reader or something…”

  “It was a psychic.” Her mother supplied the answer.

  Jax couldn’t take her eyes off Rafe. He was watching her, and there wasn’t a bit of disbelief or mockery on his face.

  “What kind of tiger?” Rafe’s lips barely moved.

  Jax’s heart stopped beating. She could have sworn it did.

  That question.

  No one had ever asked what kind of tiger. Why had he asked that question?

  “A white tiger.” She bit her lip, waiting for the laughter. Waiting to see that sardonic smile, a sneer, a scoff.

  His face was still. His eyes traveled from her eyes to her lips, then all over her face.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  Rafe couldn’t move. The world stopped spinning. Someone had pressed a freeze button, and everything in the world had stilled except for Jax.

  In Rafe’s mind, his tiger paced in tight, furious circles punctuated with snarls.

  He was confused. He’d never felt this way before. Was this what vertigo was like? He wanted nothing more than to get away immediately and be alone with her.

  Her pulse had skipped a few beats, as if her heart had paused. It was the eeriest sensation. He’d never felt anything like this, another’s heart stopping and making his own pause. It was too synchronized, too confusing, and far too overwhelming.

  He stared at her, unable to tear his gaze away, for his tiger was focused on her as well. Her full bottom lip, tormented by her sharp teeth, was even redder from being bitten and chewed on, and it trembled slightly. She caught it between her teeth again.

  Her eyes were dark, pain-filled windows that opened for him for a brief second.

  He wanted in. He wanted her to open up and let him into that place.

  That was home.

  His tiger
roared agreement.

  “I want to know more about this dream and this white tiger,” he told her.

  “Let me…” Beth began.

  “Beth.” Rafe tore his eyes from Jax’s. “I’d love to hear it from Jax, later, after we’ve dropped you and the Major off at your hotel.”

  “But we…” Beth looked at Jax. “I thought…”

  “Mrs. Vasquez. Beth. You’ll be far more comfortable in a five-star hotel that’s a short cab ride away from Jax’s little apartment. My family keeps a suite there. You’re welcome to use it as long as you’re in town. Where’s your luggage?”

  Beth gushed and bubbled her thanks.

  “We had it taken to the cruise ship from the airport. There was no reason to haul all of that for one night. We appreciate the hotel room, son.” Major nodded at Rafe.

  Rafe was concerned about how quiet Jax was. She wasn’t eating and she’d withdrawn deep into herself.

  Dinner was over, so Rafe handled the bill, accompanied by more gushing and bubbling from Beth Vasquez, while the Major said, “I’ve got the tab next time.”

  After a quick cab ride to the hotel, Rafe gave directions to the front desk, then turned around to bid farewell to Jax’s worn out, jet-lagged parents.

  “Can we see you tomorrow? The cruise ship doesn’t leave until two.”

  Rafe glanced at Jax.

  She looked shell-shocked.

  Seeing that she wasn’t going to respond, he did. “Sure,” he said.

  “Ten o’clock?” Beth pushed forward, clearly oblivious to her daughter’s state of mind.

  Rafe nodded.

  He and Jax left her parents and went outside the double doors of the luxury hotel. He held the cab door open for her and gave the driver the address to her apartment, as that was where his car was.

  She’d been quiet the whole time he was making arrangements for her parents’ room and for their luggage. It was as if she were elsewhere, somewhere far away. He wasn’t going to talk while they were in the cab, but he had some questions for her.

  Rafe began to second-guess what he thought they’d shared earlier, that was how remote she was.

  It was during the twenty-minute drive that the change happened. He noticed it, though it was gradual. It began with her pulse, then her scent signaled the change. She was changing. Her mood was changing. Her vital signs signaled a growing difference in her.

  As soon as they were both out of the cab, she turned to him. “Thanks for your help tonight.” She took a step toward the stairs that led to her place. “I owe you.”

  What the hell? What was this about?

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  Jax ran up the stairs as quickly as she could. She could feel his gaze on her, feel him watching her all the way up. She felt self-conscious at first, the way she sometimes did, about her ass, her figure. Then, quickly, she nudged those thoughts away, pushed them back. She wasn’t going to let her mother’s jabs about being heavy get to her. She loved her curves. She’d grown to love them.

  Her keys didn’t want to cooperate, leaving her fumbling, and with every second that passed, her palms were sweatier and her fingers more uncooperative.

  And she knew Rafe was still there, at the bottom of the steps, watching her.

  Finally.

  She opened the door, slipped inside, and practically slammed it shut. Then she leaned her back against it. She was out of breath, as she she’d been running from a predator.

  A loud yell greeted her.

  Scotty. Cheering about some damned kill he’d just made on his video game. Headphones on, he hadn’t even noticed that she’d arrived.

  The damned place smelled like he’d doused it in Jack Daniel’s. She flicked the light on.

  Finally noticing he wasn’t alone, Scotty pushed one of his earphones aside. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey.” Was he not even worried that she hadn’t come home right after closing the café? Had it crossed his mind that something could have happened to her on the way home and that was why she was so late? She shook her head.

  “Bring anything to eat?”

  She looked at him like he’d lost his mind and rolled her eyes.

  “What?” He patted the cushion next to him on the couch. “Come.”

  Jesus. He was a fucking Neanderthal. One-word sentences.

  “I need to do some work. Think you can keep it down?” She took out the laptop.

  “Sure.” He pushed the earphone back in place and turned his attention back to his game.

  A second later he roared a cheer.

  This wasn’t going to go well.

  Another yelling cheer.

  It wasn’t going to go well at all.

  *

  Less than an hour later, Jax was packing up her laptop. “I’m going back to the café,” she told Scotty.

  “Why?” The word was slurred, courtesy of his Jack.

  You won’t shut the fuck up. She bit that back. “I need a bit more quiet.”

  “Okay, babe.” He turned back to his game.

  She was starting to hate the word babe.

  Then he yelled over his shoulder, “How about a quick blow job before you go?”

  She squeezed the laptop in frustration. A set of dark blue eyes crossed her mind. I bet he doesn’t treat his girlfriend like this.

  Then a pang of jealousy that was so much more than a pang coursed through her.

  She hated the thought that somewhere out there, Rafe, Rafael, or whatever he wanted to be called, was cuddled with a girl and giving her all his attention.

  She turned to look at Scotty before she shut the door behind her.

  He wasn’t even going to offer to walk her to the café.

  *

  A few yards down the street, on the roof of the building across from Jax’s place, Rafe leaned against the stucco wall.

  There were times he cursed his shifter hearing. This was one of those times.

  He was too close to not hear her exchange with Scotty. When Scotty asked her for a blow job, and then didn’t offer to make sure she arrived at the café safely, Rafe clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists.

  The fact she had to leave well after midnight and go to another location several blocks away in order to do her homework, when all Scotty had to do was quiet his ass down, set Rafe off.

  She locked the door, pulled a beret onto her head, and went down the stairs. Crossing the street quickly, she looked both ways, but never bothered to see if she was being followed or if there was anyone on the street who might be a threat.

  That only served to heighten Rafe’s ire with her boyfriend. The dickhead didn’t deserve her.

  Rafe followed her all the way to the café. He made sure he heard the door lock and that she was safely ensconced inside before he decided that he couldn’t just let this happen.

  And he had absolutely no qualms about using his shifter skills to take care of business.

  Unfair advantage, my ass.

  He made his way to her apartment quickly because he didn’t want to be gone from her for long.

  Rafe shifted into his tiger, slid through the maze of narrow streets and cobbled alleys, past the old churches and newer buildings. He stuck to the shadows, jumping to rooftops and balconies, and used the occasional bougainvillea and lack of moonlight as camouflage. Less than five minutes later, he bound up from the ground level directly to the second-story landing of Jax’s apartment.

  Rafe shifted into his human skin, but didn’t bother knocking. He already knew that her boyfriend would have headphones on and wouldn’t hear the knock. He shouldered the door open.

  A woman jumped up, topless, from the couch next to Jax’s boyfriend. She screamed when she saw Rafe.

  What the fuck?

  He hadn’t counted on this.

  A sneer crossed his face. This made what he had to do so much more justified.

  Blonde, frizzy-haired, black mascara flaking to her cheeks, the woman stared at him, open-mouthed.

>   “You need to go,” Rafe told her. When she didn’t move, he added, “Now.”

  She grabbed her shirt and ran out the door.

  “Babe, where are you going?” The lump of human waste that Jax called a boyfriend raised his head over the couch’s back.

  Rafe watched him, disbelieving. This asshole hadn’t taken long to replace Jax for whatever it was he needed.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He stood up, zipping his pants.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re moving out.”

  “The hell I am.” The lump’s voice was whiny, nasal, and pathetic. “I have nowhere to go,” Scotty said. “This is my home.”

  “This is Jax’s home. And you’re moving out. I’m sure you don’t want to explain the blonde to her.”

  “She wouldn’t believe you.”

  Rafe didn’t want to spend another moment arguing with this idiot. He used his shifter speed to rush the moron and pushed him against the wall.

  With his forearm against the other man’s throat, Rafe gave him his options. “You’re leaving. It’s just a matter of, are you doing it on your own two legs or not.”

  Rafe stepped back, took his wallet out and removed enough cash to provide the other man with airfare out of the country or a down payment on an apartment.

  Scotty’s eyes went wide when he saw the cash. He took it from Rafe’s hand.

  “There’s no returning,” Rafe told him. “Ever.”

  “Just give me time to pack.”

  “You have two hours. Get your game system and your shit and leave her a note.”

  Rafe slipped out without a backward glance and traced his way through the merrymakers who were still roaming around the tourist outskirts of town.

  He had one thing on his mind: getting back to the café and making sure that Jax was safe for the rest of the night while she finished her coursework.

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  Jax picked up her head. Damn. She’d fallen asleep. Something had woken her up.

  The dream.

  It was always the dream. The white tiger with the dark blue eyes. She’d had that dream for as long as she could remember. It wasn’t a scary dream; quite the opposite. She’d wake up and be lying next to the white tiger while it protected her, fur soft, body muscle-bound, eyes a glittering darkness of indigo.

 

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