PrimalFlavor

by Danica Avet

  She gripped his hand, the wind swallowing her yelp of surprise when he lifted her out of the boat as easily as she would’ve lifted a piece of paper. But he didn’t set her down once her legs cleared the dock. No, the man flung her over his shoulder, ass pressing against the side of his neck, and took off running for the cabin. Colette swallowed a scream, positive he was going to drop her on her head, and clutched his shirt and planned. Planned to kick his shifter ass when they made it inside.

  Contrary to her fears, Zach didn’t drop her. Neither did she bounce on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes the way she had when her cousin Cotton had done the same thing when she was younger. Of course, Cotton wasn’t a shifter known for his grace. He glided across the uneven ground leading to the shack. It wasn’t exactly comfortable for her, but it wasn’t awful either. She still intended to give him a piece of her mind when she was on her feet again.

  And that happened quicker than she expected, the world going topsy-turvy as he slid her off his shoulder, her body rubbing against his hard chest all the way down. Not as though he’d done it on purpose, though. Their clothes were soaked and clinging to each other, which made the move difficult. And erotic. Her breath caught in her throat when her top caught on his chest, causing the fabric of her bra to abrade her sensitive nipples. It reminded her of his mouth, the roughness of his tongue as he flicked it over her tight peaks. And just like that heat blossomed in her cunt, the hunger kept at bay by the cold rain returning with a vengeance.

  Zach straightened his hands on her hips as he stared down at her. The rain had plastered his hair to his head, strands sticking to his face and shielding most of his eyes, but there was no mistaking the golden gleam. Her heart slammed against their chests, the world fading away to nothing as she stilled like a deer in headlights.

  Another crack of thunder caused the rickety porch boards beneath their feet to rattle, breaking the intense moment of intimacy as though it never happened. He didn’t pull her closer, didn’t smash his mouth to hers and take her against the door the way her mind pictured. How she wanted to feel him fucking her, slamming into her with the crisp, cool summer rain pounding over them. But it wasn’t destined to be. Not when he became all business again.

  “Sounds like this storm is getting worse. Let’s get inside,” he ordered with a gentle push in the direction of the door. “I’ll go back for your stuff later.”

  A trickle of shock raced down her spine and she shot a panicked look in the direction of the boat where the bag she’d grabbed sat. She wasn’t concerned it would be ruined. She’d learned long ago not to bring anything that wasn’t waterproof on the bayou with her, but the contents of that bag would tell Zach exactly where she’d thought this day was going. And he’d know how stupid she’d been.

  She turned to the cabin with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Don’t worry about it. The storm should stop in a little while.” I hope, she silently added as she opened the door to her hunting sanctuary. It wasn’t as easy to pretend indifference when the man she wanted entered her home away from home behind her, but she managed to turn to him with a fake, bright smile. “Welcome to Camp Colette.”

  * * * * *

  “Have you found them?”

  Roscoe held the phone to his ear with one hand and the pair of binoculars with the other, studying the woods around the small shack Colette and the tiger had taken shelter in. He’d been trailing them from far behind, following the sound of her boat engine with the pirogue he’d “borrowed” from the idiots who’d called him in for this job. They weren’t his concern. The Schumacher brothers were only a means to an end for him.

  “Not yet. There are a lot of nooks and crannies in this fucking swamp,” he said into the phone, which wasn’t a complete lie. He’d nearly lost them a couple of times, only his skills as a tracker helping him find them again and again. The thunderstorm had helped to mask his approach and he sent a silent thanks to Mother Nature. “I’ll find them though.”

  “I know you will,” his boss said with a satisfied sigh. “We want this one bad. She’ll make a perfect example of how we won’t tolerate those who think to get above themselves.” The man was always careful not to let anything vital slip over the phone. “We only have a short time left, so make sure you get in good with her.”

  He lowered the binoculars and had to squint to see the cabin from the great distance he’d chosen to keep watch on it. The tiger had been at her house all night, hadn’t even gone to his bakery the way he usually did. A quick trip into town, a visit to pick up something to eat, told Roscoe how unusual it was for Zachary Trahan to abandon his post at his business. One of the little foxes, a cutie who’d let Roscoe know in no uncertain terms that she was available anytime he wanted her, had chatted about her boss. The tiger was tough, something he already knew, but he was also a hard worker who didn’t play around with his employees. He was driven, determined and one hell of a baker.

  Since coming to town, Roscoe had found himself visiting that damn bakery more than he would back home. He hated to admit how addictive Trahan’s beignets were, but if he didn’t get at least a dozen daily, his whole day was shot to shit.

  “How are your possible replacements? Worth our time?” his boss asked with a hint of impatience.

  Realizing he’d just been staring into space, thinking about beignets, Roscoe sat with his back against the tree, his floppy hat protecting his face and the phone from the deluge. As much as he’d love to get out of the rain, his job was to trail the target until he could bring her in to the group. This time wouldn’t be any different. For the most part. Except this job came with an added bonus, one he’d been waiting months to receive.

  “The Schumacher’s are idiots,” he said bluntly, keeping his eyes trained on the cabin three miles away. He couldn’t see anything clearly, even with his shifter-enhanced vision, but he’d be able to tell if Colette left again. Lordy be, he’d gotten a good look at her in that wet t-shirt. If he wasn’t on this job…

  “How?” his boss barked when he didn’t say anything else. “Are they unsuitable for recruitment?”

  He bit back a sigh, pushing away the image of Colette’s perky tits and tight nipples. Sometimes he really hated his job. “They do stupid things to bring attention to themselves. They drink, they abuse their shifter status, thinking it allows them to be dickheads, and they’re fucktards who don’t listen to orders.”

  “They’re still hunting out of season,” the boss guessed with a regretful sigh. “That’s unfortunate. Regardless, we’ll help them out this time and end our association once we’re finished with the ceremony.”

  That was one bit of good news today, Roscoe thought as he tucked his collar closer to his neck to keep more water from dripping down his back. “Got it. Anything else?”

  “Just keep a close eye on our friend. I plan to enjoy her company very soon.”

  The call ended as abruptly as it’d begun, leaving Roscoe to sit in the rain, wet and alone while the tiger got his groove on. And if that striped idiot didn’t tap that ass, Roscoe would lose all respect for him. Someone had to be enjoying themselves this dreary afternoon and if he had a hot little piece like the human huntress, Roscoe definitely wouldn’t be complaining.

  Chapter Eleven

  The interior of the cabin wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. It wasn’t big by any means, more like a single room studio with everything crammed inside. It also wasn’t entirely Colette’s. Zach stiffened when his sharp senses caught the scent of several men mingling with hers. She didn’t seem to realize he wasn’t pleased, moving around the cabin to open the little window to let air in, lighting a hurricane lantern and arranging things for no reason.

  Pissed at the thought of this being her love nest, one she’d shared with several men, Zach tore his gaze away from her rain-soaked body. He couldn’t look at her. Not with that white shirt plastered to her skin showing off the shape of her perky tits and tight nipples. He’d nearly stripped her naked on the leaky porch and fucke
d her right there in front of the entire world.

  Think of something else, like the men she’s probably been bringing here.

  His tiger snapped at him. “Who else knows about this place?” he asked casually, turning away from her as she bent over the cot. Damn woman was making his brain mush!

  “Oh, a lot of hunters use this cabin for reasons like this,” she said, her voice muffled. “All the camps in Bayou Ange and along Robicheaux land are considered available for a safe haven if needed. And it smells like someone took advantage of that,” she muttered. “I don’t mind letting people stay here ’cause I’ve been caught out on a hunt when bad weather crept up, but I try to leave it as clean as I found it. Someone obviously doesn’t feel the same.” She marched across the room, a pair of dirty underwear hanging from a stick she’d grabbed. She threw the no-longer tightie-whities into the trashcan and slammed the lid. “Ugh, that’s so fucking gross.”

  Relieved because there was no imagining the disgust in her voice or scent, Zach relaxed and really looked around. “This is all yours?”

  “Yeah, Dad had it built for me when I was thirteen.” She went back to the cot and bent over again. “I’m burning these sheets,” she mumbled under her breath. “Mama didn’t like it, but Dad swore nothing would happen to me out here. The first few years, he or one of the uncles slept in a tent a few yards away in case I needed them, but after I turned eighteen, I’d come out here alone to think or to hunt.” She opened a cabinet that contained huge waterproof bags with sheets and blankets. She gave the linens a hard shake to remove some of the wrinkles before bustling back across the room and remaking the bed with quick efficiency. “I come out here every deer, duck and turkey season and sometimes when I have a free day from the tours or hunting, I’ll stay here to relax. It’s nice to have a place where you can be away from everything.”

  Her braid had fallen over her shoulder, the end brushing the clean sheets she pulled over the mattress, but it was her ass that held his attention. The subtle sway as she stepped this way and that doing an innocent chore was more seductive than a striptease. Her jeans, slightly baggy before, now clung to her ass and shapely legs. He remembered exactly what the haven between her thighs tasted like. His mouth watered for another taste.

  But he’d purposely left his condoms in his car. Because he was an idiot who was trying to be noble and honorable and win her affection, not just her body. He bit back a frustrated growl. Even though he had every intention of keeping Colette as his own from now until eternity, he wasn’t ready to plant his seed just yet. He wanted to enjoy her, learn more about her and accustom himself to the idea of cubs. And figure out how to be a father. He hadn’t had one, so it wasn’t as though he had many examples to follow.

  She stood after smoothing her hand over the sheets again. “That’s better.”

  Then she turned, her uplifted breasts practically begging for his mouth. At least that’s what Zach told his conscience as he launched himself at the woman who tempted him by simply existing. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t even attempt to move out of his way. If anything, she reached for him, her body going soft the instant he grabbed her, taking her to the cot. It squeaked and protested at their combined weight, a sinful screech that sent shivers down his spine.

  But it was the woman beneath him, staring up at him with sultry eyes and parted lips that truly shot tremors of painful need through his body. She was everything. He kissed her because he couldn’t help himself, pouring all his future hopes, his hunger and his need into her mouth, stroking his tongue against hers, swallowing her soft moan. He imagined it became a part of him, the same way her scent and taste was embedded on his memory cells.

  Her hands scraped through his hair, short fingernails abrading his scalp with just enough roughness to make his dick jerk with excitement. Her tongue danced with his, tasting him with quick, hungry forays that made him growl, want and need warring with his future plans and goals, which involved this very woman whose love he was trying to win. He pulled back at the thought, staring into her lust-glazed eyes. It sounded so clichéd in his mind, but would she respect him if they had sex right now? Did she see him as a male she could spend her life with? One she could learn to love?

  Insecurities, the ones that he hadn’t even realized he had made him roll off her. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten he was on the cot and landed on the floor on his back with a loud thud that shook the shack. Even as his back set up a round of protesting and his cock wilted from having the air knocked out of his lungs, it was rewarding to see Colette’s wide eyes peering at him over the side of the cot.

  “Cher bon Dieu, are you okay?”

  And that’s when Zach knew there was no falling in love with her. He loved her. It’d taken having his lungs fight for oxygen and hitting his head on the floor hard enough to see stars, but he loved Colette Marie Robicheaux. His tiger didn’t seem the least bit surprised. It had known from the beginning, or at least a few minutes after they met, that she was meant to be theirs. The cat had followed its instincts, while the man had ignored his primal urgings. And of course, the tiger planned to lord it over the man for being stupid. Now they just needed to get their female to return the affection. She had to feel something other than just lust though, otherwise she wouldn’t have been concerned about him. Right?

  She slid off the bed to kneel next to him on the floor, her brow furrowed with apprehension. “Zach? Are you okay?”

  He was gaping at her like a landed fish, staring at her as though he’d never seen a woman before. And he hadn’t. He’d never seen the woman he loved before. It was a weird feeling, knowing this woman was going to be his. Oh yeah, he’d have to make sure she agreed and shit, but she would. He hadn’t gotten where he was in his career by giving up.

  Make her fall for you. Right. That meant not fucking her like a beast in rut.

  “I’m fine,” he finally gasped when she reached out to him. If she touched him, he was a goner. He was a strong man, but he wasn’t that damn strong. No man was. “I’m thirsty.” He sat up and slid away from her in the same move to avoid her hand. “I’ll just…go get the coffee and the other stuff.” He leapt to his feet, telling himself it wasn’t cowardly to run in the face of such temptation. He was only flesh and blood for God’s sake.

  “But it sounds like it’s raining harder,” she said faintly.

  He made the mistake of looking back at Colette. Sitting in the middle of a rickety cabin on her knees, the jeans tight around her thighs, her t-shirt as thin as gauze, nipples jutting against the material like ripe berries and her lips swollen from his kisses, she was Eve, tempting him to sin.

  And Zach ran like the fucking wind.

  She was right though. It was raining harder, the wind howling louder and the damn raindrops were a hell of a lot colder. It was an awkward walk with his dick as hard and stiff as a baseball bat in his jeans until he got about halfway to the dock. By the time he reached the boat, he was able to actually walk properly instead of like a dog dragging his dick on the ground. Good thing too because the wind whipped up the current on the bayou enough that the boat bobbed dangerously.

  Zach carefully stepped in and grabbed the huge canister of coffee they hadn’t touched all day. The bag she’d carried with her sat in the back of the boat. Remembering how she hadn’t let it out of her sight, he snatched it up as well, glad to see it was waterproof. Knowing his woman, it probably held enough ammunition and guns to take down a herd of buffalo and strangely enough, that pleased him.

  He loved her self-sufficiency. Hell, he loved everything about her. And hopefully by the time he got back to the cabin, she’d be sleeping or something. Anything but tempting him to unleash his animal all over her sexy body.

  * * * * *

  Colette peered out the window, watching Zach’s stiff walk toward the bayou. When he stopped to grab at his crotch, she had to bite back a laugh. For a moment, okay several moments, she’d feared he wasn’t interested in her that way anymore. It was a natural conclu
sion when the man had flung himself to the floor as though God Himself had thrown him there. And when she tried to assure herself that he hadn’t been hurt, he scrambled away like a hermit crab.

  She shook her head and thought about that weird look on his face. That was the only way she could describe it. And she’d seen it twice since he showed up at her house with the traps. He looked both happy and terrified, uneasy and satisfied, as though he wasn’t sure if he should be thrilled or depressed, or both. Colette frowned at his back, watching as he stopped to tilt his face up to the stinging, cold rain. Like a man taking a freezing-cold shower.

  He’d kissed her, gotten her so hot and hungry for him, hungrier than she’d been before and then he bolted like a virgin on his wedding night. Like someone who wanted something so badly he didn’t want to ruin it. She’d seen—and felt—how much he wanted her. There was no mistaking the hard length of his cock where he’d pressed it against her stomach. And despite how worried she’d been for him when he hit the floor, she’d taken a moment to look him over, feeling like that cougar in The Graduate. She wanted to eat him alive.

  Zach was moving again, striding with his normal grace, his discomfort either gone or easier to manage. He leapt into the boat, grabbed the thermos and stopped for a moment before striding to the back of the vessel. Her heart hammered when he leaned down only to rise with her backpack. He was bringing the bag she’d packed for seduction. He didn’t look in it, just picked it up, probably because he thought she might want it.

  And that’s what made her want to love him. He didn’t make her ask for things, or expect her to tell him when she wanted something. It was as though his instincts told him what she wanted most and he provided it. She hadn’t known she needed to visit her old haunts today, but doing so had helped center her, helped her realize that life was what you made of it. Life was really simple when you removed all the things she’d thrown up to make it complicated. Did it really matter that he would move on? He wanted her, she wanted him. Sex was natural. And Colette believed she knew enough about Zach to decide if he was just after a piece of ass. If he was, he had a weird way of getting it. He could’ve fucked her so many times and left without a backward glance, but he hadn’t.