Tim didn’t look away from TDH. He liked the acronym for the man, especially since TDH could stand for Total Dick Head as well as Tall Dark and Handsome, and considering the glare and the sneer, yeah, TDH worked in both respects.
What the hell was he doing, standing there in some kind of testosterone-infused visual equation of a pissing match? He didn’t have time for stupidity like this. Tim turned away and realised Dane had shut up finally and was staring at him with a knowing look.
“What?” Tim grumbled. He was not blushing. He was just hot, even if it was only about sixty degrees Fahrenheit. They’d been walking, and he wasn’t anywhere near being used to the altitude or atmosphere or traveling halfway across the world.
“He’s coming this way,” Dane said, hissing the s’s and sprinkling Tim’s forearm with spit. “Whoops. Sorry about the spontaneous spit shower. But he’s coming, seriously.”
Tim’s stomach dipped. He was surprised he didn’t hear it go splat on the ground.
What was wrong with him? He grabbed Dane’s wrist. “Come on, I don’t think he appreciated us checking him out. We aren’t in a gay-friendly country, remember.” Tim sure did, and he didn’t dare to glance back, instead propelling Dane forward with a shove. “Let’s get out of here!”
Tim had never been the panicky sort, but for some reason, he felt as if he were being stalked. It was creepy, being the prey instead of the hunter. Tim didn’t care for it, yet his cock hardened and his heartbeat sped up. His pulse rushed through his veins and a weird euphoric sensation rolled over him.
Jesus Christ, I must be hallucinating! Sleep, sleep and drink lots of water and I’ll feel better.
He hoped so, anyway. Distractions and carelessness were dangerous, and being worn out could certainly make each of those more likely. Tim weaved around several people grouped by a doorway. The sound of their voices was an unfamiliar mixture of tones and tempos, yet the language they spoke was oddly musical to Tim’s ears.
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But he was no less aware of the man he thought of as TDH behind them. Tim would bet every fine hair on his body was standing up and vibrating from the sensation of being watched. Tim tried to focus on hearing TDH, but there was too much noise with the group of people he’d just passed, and he wasn’t downwind, so there was no scenting his pursuer.
“Why are we running away from Mr Gorgeous again?” Dane huffed.
“Why is he chasing us?” Tim retorted. “Didn’t I just remind you about this not being the most gay-friendly place?” He lengthened his strides and wished Dane wasn’t with him. If he was alone, he’d confront TDH. Tim was, due to his shifter nature, quite a lot stronger than the average male, and if worst came to worst, he could let his beast loose, although shifting wasn’t a speedy thing for him. And it hurt, which certainly didn’t encourage him to do it more often. It was wholly possible he could be killed mid-shift, so he’d not do it unless he absolutely had no other choice.
Tim scowled and darted a glance over his shoulder as they turned down a street leading away from their hotel.
Dane started to dig his heels in. “Hey! We need to go—”
“I know where we need to go,” Tim growled, jerking Dane’s arm and propelling him back into moving. “I don’t want TDH to figure out where we’re at.”
Dane’s laughter had a slightly hysterical tinge to it and Tim glowered at his friend.
“What?”
Dane shook his head. “How many hotels do you think there are in this place? And TDH? Really? Tall dark and handsome—”
“Or Total Dick Head,” Tim snarled. “Fuck!”
“Exactly.” Dane didn’t slow down, though. “That guy, whoever he is, looks kind of like a native, or at least more like one than we ever will. I doubt he’s gonna have to guess where we are, or who we are, or who we’re with. He probably just has to ask someone who’s seen us. Or he could watch us from God knows where.”
Tim knew Dane was right. He and Dane stood out for their Western clothes as well as their different physical appearances. They weren’t the only people here not native to Mongolia, but they were the only ones he saw in the nearby area. If their stalker was from here, he probably had friends or knew shortcuts Tim and Dane would never find.
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Added to that, the organisation they were working with had established a base camp here almost a decade ago. It wasn’t an unknown entity in Dalanzadgad. The Snow Leopard Conservation Programme had been established here by Dr Marquat years ago and was still running strong.
Idiot. Dumb, narrow-sighted idiot! Tim scolded himself some more as they turned left.
Why were they even bothering? Dane was right. If Tim hadn’t been so beat, maybe he’d have realised the same things Dane had.
Right, Tim thought scathingly. He never had been any kind of brilliant, and yes, he had his PhD, but it was due more to very hard work and determination than his IQ. Tim wasn’t stupid, though. He wasn’t. He just tended to be very focused and not blessed with a lot of common sense. Book smart, he’d heard it called, but Tim didn’t even think of himself in such a manner. It’d damn near killed him getting his degrees.
Tim was pulled out of his self-chastisement when Dane nearly yanked his arm out of its socket. “Stop!”
Like he had a choice, short of dragging Dane off? Tim span around and tried not to appear as freaked out as he was beginning to realise he felt. He didn’t see TDH anywhere.
“Yeah, I was trying to tell you, but you were in the flee-zone,” Dane huffed. “He quit following us.”
“Maybe he just got a kick out of fucking with us.” Tim didn’t see TDH but he felt him still, like a prick of fine needles over his skin. He looked until his eyes ached, straining to see a hint of the stranger. He didn’t catch even a glimpse of the man.
“What if he’s waiting at our hotel to kill us or something?” Dane whispered, his voice laced with mock-fear. “Ohhhh, maybe he is going to nab us and make us his sex-slaves!”
“Shut up, Dane.” Tim fought against a grin at his friend’s ridiculous imaginings.
“Besides, I doubt being abducted would ever be fun. That’s one of those fantasies best left as—”
“No no no no,” Dane interrupted, wagging a finger at Tim. “Don’t drag reality into it!
Nothing bad can happen to us in my fantasy! It’s all consensual, and everyone comes until we pass out.”
Tim snorted despite his best efforts not to. Dane didn’t need the encouragement he’d get if he knew how entertaining Tim found him. “Right. Well. Let’s head back to our room www.total-e-bound.com
and see if we have to fend off any stalker—I mean, valiant hero.” Tim thought he did pretty good spinning his own little piece of the tale, but Dane’s burst of laughter told him otherwise.
Well, what did he expect? He’d never been the most imaginative of people, either. He didn’t have the talent for making beautiful things from his imagination like his cousin Levi did. No, what Tim did was plod along resolutely, always keeping his eye on the task at hand.
Bland hair, bland eyes, bland body. Of course he had the personality to match.
No wonder he didn’t have a boyfriend. He was about as exciting as a bowl of oatmeal.
Not the sugared kind either, but just the plain, mushy, beige stuff, all unflavoured and tasteless.
And whose fault is my uneventful plodding through life so far? Is it fate, destiny, the hand of some god—or is it my own fault? What do I believe? It was a startlingly spiritual question for Tim to ask himself. He was floored by it, actually, although he was careful not to slow down or give any hint of his deep thoughts to Dane. It wouldn’t do to hand his best bud any ammunition to tease him with.
Tim couldn’t let the question go, however, and he pondered it the entire walk back to their hotel even as he kept an eye out for TDH. Tim told himself he was relieved not to see the man again, but the hot ball of disappointment in his gut called him a liar. He’d just ignore
that reaction. It was a silly one to have, considering how he’d felt out there earlier—stalked, hunted, vulnerable. Like prey.
So why did it make him so horny he couldn’t draw a deep breath?
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About the Author
A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are resounds for pounding away at the keyboard, as are the early morning hours. Sleep?
Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain, demanding to be let out.
Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.
Email: [email protected]
Bailey loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Bailey Bradford
Southwestern Shifters: Rescued
Southwestern Shifters: Relentless
Southwestern Shifters: Reckless
Southern Spirits: A Subtle Breeze
Southern Spirits: When the Dead Speak
Southern Spirits: All of the Voices
Southern Spirits: Wait Until Dawn
Southern Spirits: Aftermath
Southern Spirits What Remains
Love in Xxchange: Rory’s Last Chance
Love in Xxchange: Miles To Go
Love in Xxchange: Bend
Love in Xxchange: What Matters Most
Love in Xxchange: Ex’s and O’s
Love in Xxchange: A Bit of Me
Love in Xxchange: A Bit of You
Leopard’s Spots: Levi
Leopard’s Spots: Oscar
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In My Arms Tonight Page 23
