by Danica Avet
She flipped the safety on her rifle. “Why is that? Because I’m wearing shoes?” she sneered at him, finally well over her lust. Thank God she hadn’t made more of a fool of herself. He was so not worth the screaming orgasms she gave herself. Colette vowed to fantasize about someone else from now on.
One of his thick, black eyebrows rose and his smile faltered. “I’m sorry?”
“You didn’t expect to see a Robicheaux wearing shoes? You didn’t expect one of us Kayaks to have the ability to formulate a complete sentence? Or know words with more than two syllables? What?” She let each question snap like a whip until his smile was completely gone and a frown furrowed the smooth skin between his eyebrows. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Just get your ass off my property before I put a hole in it. And trust me, I don’t miss.”
Chapter Three
This was not going as planned. Zach stared at the suddenly pissed-off Cajun woman in front of him and tried to figure out a way to soothe her and work his way into her bed. Because this Robicheaux woman in high temper was hotter than the ghost chili peppers he’d been trying to incorporate in one of his recipes. Her eyes nearly glowed with her anger and her cheeks had darkened. He was almost a hundred percent positive she’d started out flushed from arousal and embarrassment, but that quickly changed to anger over some imagined slight.
Which brought him back to why she would be angry with him. He hadn’t asked her what her favorite position was. Hell, with the way all the blood had left his head to pool in his dick, he wasn’t capable of much thinking at the moment anyway. The instant her little nipples stood out in sharp relief against the smooth cotton of her t-shirt, his mind went blank. He hadn’t even known what he said to her to piss her off. How could he when all he could imagine was finding out how much of a handful her small tits would be for him. Would she fill his palms? Or would he be able to cover her completely?
Those had been the images dancing in his mind. At least until she lifted that damn rifle again, hiding her perky, friendly nipples from his line of sight. And yeah, he had a one-track mind at the moment. It’d been at least a month since the last time he had time for anything but a fast jerk-off session. And this woman, this human woman with a fiery, fierce personality wouldn’t expect him to mark her and live happily ever after or some crazy shit like that. A marking was a solemn bond between mates, a promise of fidelity and forever. Humans didn’t do the whole marking thing, meaning if a shifter ever tied up with one of them, the human could go on their merry way. No sane person hooked up with humans for that very reason.
Since he had no plans to marry or mate at any point in his sane life, Zach wondered if he’d maybe been a little hasty ignoring all the come-hither glances from human women. If they were looking for a little rough, casual sex, he could do that. Especially with this woman.
“Let’s just relax,” he said with a calm he didn’t quite feel. His tiger figured this was a perfect moment to display his dominance over her. It urged Zach to spring at her, tackle her to the ground and fuck the anger right out of her. His balls ached at the thought even though his logical mind said that was considered sexual assault. “I think we’re just having a misunderstanding.” He gave her his most charming smile.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “So on top of trespassing on private property and insulting my family, you think I’m crazy?”
For the first time in his life, Zach was stunned speechless. His tiger scrambled, trying to figure out what she meant. He should have been used to not understanding females, which was why he limited his contact with them to fucking. He fucked a woman, made sure she screamed with pleasure, found his own and was out the door shortly after. It was a system that worked to lower his chances of becoming entangled in the web of male helplessness that caught so many of his friends. One after the other, he’d watched them tie themselves in knots over their mates, from the start of the attraction to the mating and beyond. There was no understanding the female mind and from what he’d heard of human females, they were the worst of the lot. Which failed to explain his sudden need to get this one in bed. Or take her right here on the ground.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said slowly.
The rifle lowered a bit. “You’re talking to me as though you think I’m crazy,” she accused.
Zach abruptly dropped the charm. “Woman, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but I’m trying to talk to you. Now you can either tell me what I said wrong, or shoot me.”
He really hadn’t expected her to choose the last option. He just counted himself lucky she was either a worse shot than she boasted to be, or couldn’t bring herself to actually put a hole in him. The rifle barrel dropped and a nearly soundless expulsion of air was all he heard before the dirt two inches in front of his toes kicked up to slap against his shins. Zach’s jaw dropped in shock even as little Zach gave a jerk of excitement.
He was a sick fucker. Sick, sick, sick because he should not have found being shot at by a tough, possibly insane Cajun woman the least bit sexy. But he did. God help him, he and his tiger were just about frothing at the mouth with lust. He had no idea what her name was, or if she needed medication for that chip on her shoulder, but he knew he needed to find out as much about her as he could.
“Colette?” A male called out in the distance, breaking his lust-induced daze. “Cher, where you at?”
He appreciated learning her name, but would have preferred learning it from her. Zach’s tiger growled, possessiveness nearly overwhelming him. It was a struggle to keep from shifting right then and there. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not be single, that she might not be his for the taking.
The thought echoed around his head and he backtracked. He didn’t want her permanently or anything. He just wanted her in every position physically possible and some of those that weren’t if he could find a good pulley system. Hearing another man calling for her, using a familiar endearment pissed him off more than fucking up an easy recipe. He wanted to go find the bastard and rip his head off.
She lost some of her anger, the aggression and tension easing from her slowly as though she realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Then she spoke. “They won’t be as nice when they get here.” The Cajun Ice Princess voice taunted his tiger to warm her up. “Go on and get out of here. They won’t miss on purpose if they decide to shoot you.”
He could hear a good-sized party of what he supposed were her fellow hunters, probably her family and a possible husband walking toward them, but he didn’t move. “You shoot at every man you meet, Colette, or just the ones you like?”
It was a calculated gamble to unsettle her as much as she unsettled him. Her lips softened and parted, a pink tide of color sweeping up her neck to settle in her cheeks. The rifle dropped some and yup, there were pert, hard little nipples pressing against her shirt.
“W-what?” she stammered in a voice that wasn’t nearly as frigid as it had been before. “No.”
His tiger purred. She might not want to be attracted to him, whether it was because she didn’t like shifters or some other reason, but she was. He might be upwind of her, unable to catch any hint of her feminine musk, yet his animal half was an expert at reading body language. He didn’t need to smell her attraction. It was written on her face, in her dilated eyes, flushed cheeks and the rapidly beating pulse in her neck. In the expression that twisted with want and anger and frustration.
The party crashers were coming closer and he knew his time with her was coming to an end. For now. He had every intention of finding out more about this lone Robicheaux female, more specifically if she was married or not, so he could pursue her. It was a hunt of an entirely different kind, but one he and his tiger were positive would end successfully with her pussy clamped around his dick as she screamed his name.
“Colette, where you at, bêbe?” the male voice, mature with a thick Cajun accent called out again.
She turned her head slightly in the direction of the call.
It was all the opening he needed. Using the strong muscles of his legs that gave him such an impressive jump, Zach launched himself at his newest prey. Her head jerked back around, her pretty eyes wide with shock, her mouth falling open and then they were going down. He could’ve been a complete jerk and let her take the brunt of their weight, but again, Zach’s tiger wanted to make even this show of dominance and intimidation easy on her.
He wrapped his arms around her lean body and twisted slightly as they headed for the ground so he took her weight. She’d jerked the gun up at the last minute, sandwiching it between their bodies, the barrel warm, but it was the surprisingly small woman cradled in his arms who heated him up the most.
Finally—fucking finally, he could smell her and his dick gave a jerk of excitement despite being used as a gun rest since that was exactly where the butt of her rifle was. His tiger considered that a small price to pay to have her this close, her arousal making his head swim. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a purr of arousal and contentment rumbling in his chest. Sweet vanilla musk with a hint of some kind of spice he couldn’t identify made his mouth water with the urge to taste her thick cream at the heart of that scent.
For a moment, she was perfectly still although he could feel the frantic pounding of her heart against his chest. The tight buds of her nipples poked at him through the fabric of her shirt. Their bodies had aligned perfectly, his thigh nestled against the juncture of her legs, the warmth of her pussy scorching him through her jeans.
He opened his eyes to see her gaping at him with a shocked expression. Beautiful eyes with deep, black pupils that dilated as he returned her stare, letting her see the intent on his face. Because he had to kiss her. Despite knowing the men in her family, one of them possibly a lover—his tiger snarled at the thought—were coming closer, he had to have one taste.
She sucked in a ragged breath and Zach made his move.
Velvety soft, her lips cushioned his in a kiss that held him transfixed. All it took was a single touch and he was a goner. The lust was still there, riding him hard, demanding he strip her naked and take her, but it was held back by something stronger. Something foreign that wanted to cherish this moment, to extend the game. He lifted his head slightly, tilted it to the left and kissed her the way he’d originally intended, catching her words with his mouth, his sudden strike knocking her hat back.
This time though, it wasn’t a chaste meeting of lips. This time, he kissed her the way he’d wanted to from the minute he saw the sugar-coated color of her mouth and the almost doll-like shape of her lips. He kissed her, his tongue parting those plump contours and surging forward. He didn’t bother holding back his groan of…groan of, what was it? Relief to finally know her taste? Pleasure because she tasted as sweet and spicy as he’d believed? Or excitement because her tongue met his in tentative greeting?
When her body softened against him, molding to his nakedness, Zach knew it was a combination of everything. His tiger pulled back slightly, letting him take the lead, knowing this was a job for the man. The cat could mark the female later, keeping her the way it wanted to, but right now they needed to gentle her, to show her how good it would be between them. The man twisted their bodies, rolling her beneath him without breaking the kiss, her legs falling open. The scent of her musk grew stronger, headier. Zach moved over her, settling his body in the cradle of her hips, shuddering when her legs hooked around the backs of his.
There. This was where he wanted her. If her clothes weren’t in the way, he could take them both to heaven. Just a little shift and slide and pure bliss. Their kiss turned fierce. The rifle rolled away from them when she lifted her arms to wrap around his shoulders, the fine muscles of her body tense. Then she was rolling him over. He wasn’t sure how she did it since she shouldn’t have been able to, but he found himself on the ground with her on top, her hips rocking against him.
Holy fuck. He let out a growl of need, his hands gripping the surprisingly soft curves of her ass and grinding her down. He had to get her jeans off and dive inside that tight little—
“Colette!”
She moved a lot faster than he would’ve thought a human could, leaping to her feet and pulling her hat back into place before he could grab her and refuse to let go. She muttered something under her breath, her movements nearly frantic as she wiped her arm across her lips and patted herself down, dusting away the leaves and dirt. Zach glared at her heart-shaped ass when she bent over to pick up her rifle, his tiger snarling.
She did not just wipe away our kiss.
Yeah, Zach wasn’t too happy about that either. Women didn’t just walk away from him, especially not human women who were so wet their arousal practically humidified the air around him. His dick gave a little leap of excitement. Okay, so he kind of liked that she was all business as she started toeing away the evidence of their tussle. Until she kicked some dirt over him.
He glared at her, but she didn’t seem moved despite the honeyed scent telling him she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended to be. The man shouted again, rousing Zach’s anger. He tensed, ready to charge the trees to find the fucker. He didn’t know who the hell it was, but that bastard was going to eat it. He’d never felt so violent and sexually frustrated and fuck, his balls ached with the need to come inside Colette’s tight cunt, to feel her squeeze him as she—
Then she said, “My dad and cousins will kill you if they find you here. Tu va.”
Zach relaxed again, stacking his hands under his head, ignoring her order to leave. Okay, cousins and fathers he could handle. “You do like me,” he couldn’t help but tease.
He had no doubt her relatives were packing enough weapons to take over a small country, yet he didn’t feel overly inclined to leave. It did kill some of his desire and his balls still hurt, but he could think again. Sort of. Colette Robicheaux had knocked him for a big loop. Especially after that amazingly hot kiss. He had needs and so did she. Needs they could both satisfy if she sat on his face.
His tiger purred. “I knew you liked me.” The words came out as a barely disguised crow of triumph.
The attractive flush on her cheeks darkened even more despite the glower she sent him. “I just don’t want the responsibility of feeding you to the alligators.”
Oh yeah, his tiger liked her a lot. Spicy, tough and strong. She might not be able to claw at him and bite back the way a tigress would, but he had no doubt she’d make the mating dance fun. Whoa, wait. Mating dance? Zach put the brakes on his tiger’s erratic thoughts. They’d always agreed neither of them wanted a mate, or the mess of being tied down to one female. And it wasn’t as though this human was possible mate material anyway. He just wanted her for fucking. A few times. At the very least half a dozen times, didn’t he? The tiger sent the word mate to him with a hopeful purr, completely forgetting its former resistance to the idea. The fucking traitor. Zach slammed the door shut on the idiot feline’s thoughts, unwilling to even entertain them. Not now when his cock and balls ached with unfulfilled desire. He’d heard a lot of men do something they later regretted, like getting mated before they wanted, because they were desperate to come. He refused to be one of those unfortunate bastards.
The crashing grew closer and Colette’s arousal dissipated beneath a wave of panic that smelled like burnt sugar. His tiger surfaced enough to let Zach know he didn’t like it at all. He rolled to his feet, unwilling to cause her further anxiety. For now. He needed to get away from her for a little while anyway, get his body and his cat back under control. But that didn’t mean he’d let this little Cajun off the hook. He glanced over at her just in time to see her gaze stray to his erection. He bit back a triumphant grin even as the betraying organ strained toward her.
“I’ll see you around, Colette,” he said, her name rolling off his tongue as though it was meant to be there.
Gah. The fucking cat was rubbing off on him, getting him all sentimental and shit. But he didn’t show her how unsettled that left him. He surveyed her again, taking
in the tough stance, the pert tits and those lips. Too bad she had that baseball hat on her head. He wouldn’t mind seeing if she had brown hair to match her eyebrows or something else. Next time, he promised himself.
“Not if I can help it, Monsieur Pussy Cat,” she shot back with a halfhearted snarl that was kind of ruined by her puffy lips, beard-burned cheeks and the heady scent surrounding her like perfume. “And stay off Robicheaux land.”
Zach chuckled at her fierce tone, enjoying her Tom & Jerry reference, which would’ve pissed him off if it had come from anyone else. He gave into his tiger’s need to shift, the change coming over him as naturally as breathing. Once complete, he gave a full-body shake to settle his fur properly, his keen ears catching Colette’s soft gasp. He looked at her with the tiger’s eyes, finding her even more exotic than before now that he’d had a little taste of her lips, knew her scent and flavor. She held her gun in a loose grip, the muzzle pointed at the ground, her eyes wide and her puffy lips relaxed.
He preened a bit for her viewing pleasure, satisfied that he’d left a little mark on her. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d be back. He chuffed at her before he turned and began jogging in the direction of town. Zach had a lot of work to do if he was going to make time to find out more about his future lover. He didn’t even realize he’d moved her from one-night fuck category to something a little more intimate. His human mind was too focused on information, but his tiger purred at the unnoticed slip.
* * * * *
“Colette!”
She jumped, dragging her gaze away from the palmetto leaves that still swayed from the tiger’s passing. Her heart beat so fast she thought it might leap out of her chest. Not from fear or panic, but from unadulterated lust. And wouldn’t that be a sight for her relatives. They’d never seen her flustered over a man. Not even Pierre Dubois who’d asked her to share his duck blind with him a couple years ago. She’d politely turned him down and ignored the teasing from the others. They’d have a field day if they knew she was on the verge of fanning herself over a man, a shifter who kissed like he wanted to eat her alive. Her heart gave another leap, more moisture soaking her already wet panties.
