Fierce Survivor (Sierra Pride Book 7)

by Liza Street

  “Sure.”

  He waited while she slid on a pair of shoes, and they walked toward the wooded edge of the property.

  “I like it here,” he said. “You must have missed it when you were in Nevada.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  She reached out and took his hand, and he tried not to jump at the contact. Her fingers fit perfectly with his.

  “What did you mean, when you said you loved me?” she asked. “It was so unexpected, I—I’m having a hard time making sense of it.”

  He stopped walking and faced her. Her scent surrounded him—fall leaves, poppies. She was intoxicating. “You think maybe I wasn’t being serious, or I was only talking about friendship.”

  She shrugged, looking down.

  “I know what my brother did. I don’t want to scare you by making grand proclamations about being your mate. But Cora Belle, I love you. I want to spend time with you. If you feel at all like you want that, too, maybe you won’t struggle against it? Maybe you’ll let yourself feel happy around me?”

  “I know you’re not Bryan,” she said, half under her breath. It was as if she was talking to herself. “I know you’re not him. Can I try something? An experiment?”

  “Sure.”

  Standing on tiptoes, she pressed a kiss against his lips. She stayed there for two seconds, three seconds, not moving. He wanted to taste her so bad he thought he was losing his mind, but this was Cora’s experiment, and he’d take his direction from her.

  Finally, she pulled away. “Wow. I want—I want more than that.”

  Oh, he wanted it, too. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “For you, or for me?”

  “Cora, I’ve wanted you for three years. But you’ve been through so much—”

  “I’m tired of everyone making decisions for me,” she said. “I want you. I want to be with you. But if you’re going to be like my brothers and treat me like I’m not even an adult yet, then you can forget it.”

  “Shit—wait.” Had he blown it?

  She stood up on her tiptoes and gave him another kiss. This time he kissed her back, opening his mouth, tasting her and letting her taste him. He touched her shoulder, slid his hand up to her braid, which he gripped hard, wanting to gather her closer.

  As soon as she pulled back, he let her go.

  “Goodnight, Tyler,” she said. “Have a good trip.”

  He’d be going as fast as possible to Colorado, dragging Val Brigg back by whatever means necessary, and speeding to California so he could be with Cora again. And after she’d had time to think about it—after he’d had time to fantasize and try not to jack off every second of the day—maybe they’d finally be together.

  Chapter Seven

  Cora woke in the dark and turned to stare at her clock. Four a.m.

  Had Tyler left yet? She rushed to her window to look outside. Gabriel’s Jeep was still in the drive.

  She changed quickly and threw another pair of clothes into a giant handbag. No thinking. Just do it.

  The sliding glass door leading to the patio moved easily for her. Once outside, she took careful footsteps to Gabriel’s car.

  The Jeep was unlocked, and she eased into the back seat, crouching on the floorboards.

  Crap. Tyler would smell her before he even got the car started—she’d forgotten about that. She clambered into the front seat and dug through the glove compartment, looking for anything with a strong scent. Perfect—Miranda had put a bottle of hand sanitizer in there. Cora rubbed it all over her hands and arms, then put spots of it on the dashboard, the gear shift, and the steering wheel. Then she turned to the luggage area and unearthed a flannel blanket. She dribbled more hand sanitizer on top of it and pulled it over herself, and waited.

  *

  When she awoke again, Tyler was starting the car.

  She forced herself back to sleep again, so she wouldn’t think about what she was doing.

  A few hours later, Tyler stopped. Cora risked a peek upward, and guessed they were at a gas station. Her body was sore—she needed to stretch and move around.

  The gas pump beeped while Tyler plugged in his payment information, so Cora took that opportunity to crawl out from under the blanket and clamber into the passenger’s seat. She waited, unable to help her grin, while Tyler finished gassing up.

  His door opened, and she flashed him a smile.

  He stared. “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming with,” she said, pretending nonchalance. “I’m feeling a little peckish, though—would you mind grabbing me a snack from the cooler?”

  He opened his mouth once, then closed it.

  She laughed at his incredulous expression. “No? Fine, I’ll get one for myself.”

  She went around to the rear of the car and opened the back. There wasn’t much in the tiny cooler—some bottles of water, a couple of beers, and a sandwich. She didn’t want to take his lunch.

  He joined her at the back of the car, still staring at her like she was an apparition.

  “I’ll just grab something from the store,” she said. “Wanna come, too, and pick out some snacks for yourself?”

  He followed her into the convenience store and watched as she selected a bag of chips, two candy bars, and a pre-made deli sandwich.

  His voice was close, his breath tickling her ear. “But—how did you get here, after Gabriel forbade you?”

  Turning, she smiled at him. “He forbade me to think about it. I didn’t think about it.”

  He swore. “That much is obvious. Do you know what shit I’ll be in when we get back? Your brothers already hate me.”

  “They don’t hate you,” she said. “They’re being overprotective of me, is all. It’s easy for them to forget that I’m twenty-three—I was practically a teenager when I left home, and I don’t look much different.”

  She had looked different when she’d first returned from the Brooks Ranch. She’d been too skinny from being cooped up in that barn, where she hadn’t wanted to eat or sleep or even shift into her lion. It had taken a few weeks for her body to fill out again, but her brothers’ stance hadn’t changed. To them, maybe she would always be young. Maybe she would always be a victim. No, she shook the thought away. She was proving herself right now, with this trip to find Val Brigg.

  “I don’t feel good about this.” But he paid for her food and opened the car door for her like a gentleman.

  As Tyler got them back onto the highway, Cora opened up her candy bar. “Want the other?”

  “Sure.” He took it and said, “Would you please call Gabriel? He’s probably worried sick about you.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t think about that.” She reached back and grabbed her purse. Dozens of calls and texts lit up her phone screen. “Shit. Okay, first Gabriel.” She dialed home.

  “Cora?” Gabriel’s voice sounded raw, and she felt a giant weight of guilt settling onto her shoulders.

  “I’m fine. I’m with Tyler. It’s not his fault—I sneaked into the car before he left.”

  Gabriel said a few words that made Cora fervently hope the babies and Chloe weren’t anywhere around. “Come home. Now.”

  “You can’t alpha me over the phone. I’m going to help Tyler. This is good for me, to get out. I can’t stay on the ranch in my bedroom forever, Gabes, and I want to help find Starla.”

  “I thought I told you not to go—aw, shit. I told you not to think about it.” He said a few more words. “Spirit of the law, Cora. Next time, the spirit of the law, okay?”

  “Yeah. And I am sorry for worrying you. I should have left a note, but I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Obviously.” His voice was wry. Then he sighed. “Be careful out there. Tell Tyler to be careful, too.”

  “Done.”

  She hung up and looked at Tyler. “That could’ve gone worse.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Are your brothers this protective of Justine, too, or is it only you?” Tyler asked. He was distracted
by her nearness, distracted by her long legs stretching out. She was so close he could reach across the center console and touch the hole ripped in the knee of her jeans.

  “I guess it’s both of us, although Justine was never afraid of giving them a big ‘fuck you.’” Cora laughed. “I was always the agreeable one. She once told me she hated it that I behaved and everyone fell in love with me. But I always thought she had more fun. Anyway, Maverick got a lot of their protective instincts, too, since he’s the youngest. Then Starla was…taken.”

  “Tell me about Starla,” he said.

  She stared straight ahead, at the road rushing before them. She was quiet for so long that he wondered if she’d even respond.

  “It’s okay,” he started to say.

  “No, no. I want to talk. Just gathering my thoughts.” She took a deep breath. “We thought she was murdered in our woods, but we couldn’t find a body, couldn’t figure out how. Turns out, Al Gunser, and I guess this Val person, were running a kidnapping and adoption thing. Justine told me that Gunser was hypnotizing kids to make them think their families were dead.”

  “That sounds…insane,” Tyler said.

  “I know. But with shifter kids, I guess there’s a pretty high demand? I don’t know. Anyway, after Starla was taken, the family dynamic really changed. We got closer, and our parents were more watchful.”

  “What happened to your parents?” he asked. “I remember something about a car accident.”

  “We’re all about cheerful conversations today, aren’t we?”

  “Sorry,” he said in a rush. “We don’t have to—”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay. The car accident is the thing we tell everyone about how they died, but it was actually a pride war.”

  Tyler coughed, surprised. “With who?”

  “It wasn’t our war. They’d gone to help Quentin’s pride up in Oregon, and they wanted their involvement kept quiet.”

  Tyler vaguely remembered hearing about the Oregon war. It had been over territory, as these things usually were. Tyler had been about sixteen. “So you were only eight when they died?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.” Now that they’d kissed, he hoped a little contact would be comforting instead of alarming, so he reached over and took her hand. She interlaced her fingers with his, and he felt a surge of lightness move through him. She felt so right. “My mom died when I was four,” he said. “A poacher saw her in her lion form and shot her.”

  “That’s…that’s awful.” Cora’s eyes shone with sympathy.

  “I barely remember her. She used to sing to me, I remember that, but I don’t remember any of the songs.” He shrugged. “I miss her every day, though.”

  Cora picked up his hand and kissed it. “I remember my mother’s stories. She didn’t sing, but she told stories all the time.”

  Both of them had experienced deep sorrow. He’d spent so much time feeling weak about not being able to protect her from Bryan that he’d forgotten that he was strong. He was strong and he could be with her now. He’d do everything he could to make her happy.

  Her mind seemed to be in the same place. “I know now that you tried to help, before.” She didn’t say when, exactly, but he knew. “Emma told me.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to help you escape.” It hurt so bad to think about it, his chest felt like it was caving in. “I couldn’t do anything. But I could tell Quentin and Emma where you were. I left my keys in my truck every day, hoping somehow you’d get out of there and drive off.”

  She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. When she settled into her seat for a nap, he turned the radio on quiet, hoping to drown out the voices of self-recrimination that kept telling him he hadn’t done enough for her.

  By the time they reached Wyoming, the sun dipped below the horizon, and Tyler felt too tired to drive any further. Cora offered to help, but she was tired, too—no doubt from sleeping on the floor of the backseat this morning. When they got to Rock Springs, Tyler found them a hotel.

  “I smell like hand sanitizer,” Cora mumbled as he led her to their room.

  He laughed. “That’s how you kept me from smelling you in the car, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it backfired because I can’t smell anything except chemicals now.”

  “You shower. I’ll order pizza.”

  After the food arrived, he watched her carefully as they ate. He was trying to figure out what she was thinking. He hadn’t forgotten their kisses from last night. The first one, a chaste surprise, and the second one, all slow-building heat.

  Wearing a lacey tank top and a pair of sweatpants, she’d never looked so beautiful.

  She drank his second beer and talked and laughed with him, commenting on everything from the ridiculousness of reality television to the beauty of the Nevada sky.

  “After this,” she said, gesturing at the hotel room, which Tyler took to mean more than the hotel room, “Maverick and I are gonna start up our carpentry and woodworking business.”

  “First I’ve heard of it,” Tyler said, gesturing that she should continue.

  “It’s just, I love working with old things. Making them new and beautiful again.”

  “Giving them a second chance?”

  She pointed at him. “I see what you’re doing there.”

  “Caught,” he said, smiling.

  “I just feel so good when I’m working with my hands like that.”

  But how do you feel about me? he wanted to ask.

  Finally, he said, “I have to turn in for the night so I can drive tomorrow.”

  “I can take a shift driving, too,” she offered.

  “Great. Which bed do you want?”

  She picked the one farther from the door, so he started turning down the blankets of the other one.

  He turned off the bedside lamp, and Cora turned off hers. Some light still filtered through a gap in the curtains, but he’d still sleep okay. He pulled off his shirt and pants, and heard Cora’s soft intake of breath.

  She wasn’t unaffected by him, at all.

  Keeping his back to her to hide his boner, he slid into bed.

  He lay on his side, wishing he could jerk off to thoughts of Cora. Sexual tension filled the air between them. He could hear her blankets rustling, but he was determined to not turn and stare at her while she slept—he wasn’t a total creeper.

  His bed dipped under her weight. He froze in disbelief. Holy fuck, she was climbing into his bed.

  “What’s up?” he asked, turning to face her.

  She stared down at him uncertainly. “I—I wanted to kiss you again.”

  “That might not—fuck. I don’t know if I—” He was about to say he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop, but yes, he would be able to. It would take all his strength, but he’d never hurt Cora. So instead of finishing his thought, he sat up and took her mouth with his, running his tongue over her soft lips, pulling her closer to him.

  She moaned, opening her lips and thrusting her tongue against his, allowing him to fully taste her. He felt her hands gripping his hair, touching his shoulders, splaying across his back. The lace edging on her tank top was scratchy against his chest as she pressed herself into him.

  He pulled back, panting.

  “I want more,” she said.

  Her scent was everywhere, her arousal filling his nostrils. He nodded. “We’ll stop whenever you want to.”

  Giving him a slow, sexy smile, she said, “I don’t want to stop.”

  He kissed her again, pressing her back onto the bed, trailing kisses and little nips down her neck to her chest. “Can we get rid of this?” he asked, tugging on her tank top.

  “Please.” Her voice was husky.

  He lifted the tank top over her head and gazed at her breasts. He’d seen her naked more than once—as shifters, it wasn’t that big of a deal—but right now, with her nipples hard with desire and her skin flushed, her body took his breath away. He bent to circle his tongue around her nipple, enjoying
the way she squirmed.

  “Tyler,” she whispered. “Yes.”

  He took her nipple in his mouth and moved one hand down to her sweats, dipping in to play with her wetness. So soft. So warm. He wanted to be there with more than his hand, but he could prolong the suspense.

  “Fuck,” he said, stopping. “I don’t have a condom. We can still play, though.”

  She lifted her head to kiss him. “I’m on the pill. Aunt Nan made me and Justine get the prescription before we left. I kept taking it, even though I felt silly because I never had sex.”

  He was glad they were shifters—they had a natural resistance to STDs. Then the rest of what she said sunk in. Never had sex. He replayed how he’d touched her. Had he been gentle enough? Had he been slow enough? “Wait—this is your first time? Bryan never…made you—”

  She sniffed. “Aunt Nan taught me a few things before I left home. I told him in very clear words that whether or not he was my mate, if he touched me without consent, it was rape. For some reason, he listened.”

  His brother had done one thing right. Listened to that one thing. Why couldn’t he have listened to her on everything else? Without Bryan’s involvement or delusions or whatever the hell it was, Cora wouldn’t have gone through all that trauma.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, turning him to face her. “You suddenly got tense.”

  He took a deep breath, let it out. He wanted to do right by Cora, wanted everything to be perfect for her from now on. “Your first time shouldn’t be in a crappy hotel, that’s all.”

  “It doesn’t matter about the place. Any place will be special, as long as you’re there.”

  “Cora Belle, you mean everything to me.” He slid her pants and underwear down, and then kissed his way back up her legs.

  Her breath came out in a moan as he blew gently on her pussy, then licked it from the bottom to the top. She wriggled and squirmed, and he slid a single finger inside of her.

  “Tell me,” he said, licking her once in between each word, “how you touch yourself.”

  She tensed around him. “What—what do you mean?”

  “Do you put your fingers in this pretty pussy? Do you slide them back and forth over your clit, or do you make circles?”