Tiger Clause (Shifters At Law Book 3)

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Tiger Clause (Shifters At Law Book 3) Page 7

by Sophie Stern


  Only now I know.

  Now I know what I’m missing and there’s a part of me that feels like I could never go back.

  Fuck it: all of me feels like I could never go back.

  I don’t want to live a life without Anna in it. She’s sunshine and rainbows and kittens. She’s flowers on a bright summer day. She’s the sun in the sky. She’s fantastic. She’s lovely.

  And the thought of losing her in twelve months breaks my heart more than it should.

  “Did you have fun tonight?” I smile when she closes the door behind her. She stumbles a little as she walks, but laughs and smiles.

  “So much fun.”

  “Did you girls get into trouble?”

  “Only a little.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “The kind where Joyce makes out with a stranger at the bar.”

  “I thought you went to a sports bar. Isn’t that kind of a family place?”

  Anna bursts into laughter. “I know! I couldn’t believe it, either. There were no kids there. There were no families. It wasn’t a dingy place, though. It was more of a restaurant. She had a good time, though. I think he did, too.”

  “Good for Joyce. She needs to move on.”

  “Exactly. Exactly what I said.” She nods and points to me. Then she nods some more. “Joyce deserves better than stupid Logan. Now she has Wyatt. Wyatt is nice. Also, Joyce says he’s a really good kisser, so she’s got that going for her.”

  “They didn’t go home together?”

  “No. She said goodnight and we took an Uber back.”

  “What are you going to do now?” I ask. I haven’t moved from my spot on the sofa. I’m too curious about what drunk-Anna is going to do. I can’t wait to see what she’s like when she’s tipsy. The thing about drinking is that you can never predict exactly what people will be like once they’ve had a couple of cocktails.

  Will they become really loud?

  Obnoxious?

  Mean?

  Will they be overly friendly or overly sleepy?

  Will they be funnier than usual?

  Will they be horny?

  “I have some time. I could do anything. I could listen to music right now, if I wanted.”

  “Would you like me to put some on?”

  “Yes.”

  I grab my phone and put on my favorite Spotify playlist. It’s filled with 80s love ballads and rock music and it’s exactly what this moment needs. Pour Some Sugar on Me comes on loud and clear and Anna starts swaying her hips.

  “I love this song.”

  “Me too.”

  She comes closer to me, but slowly. She moves with a grace most drunk people don’t possess. She sings as she walks, dancing across the room, until she’s right in front of me.

  She whips her shirt off and throws it aside, then climbs onto my lap and continues dancing there. I’m instantly hard and ready for her. I’m immediately ready for more, but even though she’s still tipsy, Anna isn’t going to give it up so easily.

  She’s going to make me wait.

  She grips my shoulders as she grinds on me, moving to the music. Her breasts bounce in my face and I hold onto her hips as she moves. Slowly, I trace my fingers up her spine to her bra and undo the clasp. Her bra falls to the floor and her breasts are free.

  “Naughty boy,” she laughs, but then I suck one of her nipples into my mouth and she stops talking, stops moving. “Oh,” she whispers. For a brief second, I think she’s going to push me away and keep dancing, but she doesn’t. Instead, Anna pulls me closer to her. She grasps my hair, holding me in place, and I lick and suck her breast.

  “Now the other one,” she says after a minute, and I do as she says. Carefully, slowly, I tease her breast. As I lick and touch her, my hands caress her back and I run my fingers over her skin.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I say after a minute. The song has changed to something slow, something a little more intimate, and Anna kisses me. She teases me with her tongue, grinding on me as we touch, and I know I can’t take much more.

  Luckily for me, neither can Anna.

  “I need you inside of me,” she says. I start to move, start to lift her to go to the bed, but she shakes her head. “Here. I need you here.”

  She reaches for me and unbuttons my pajama pants, freeing my cock. I’m not wearing boxers, not to bed, and she runs her hand up and down my length.

  “Are you going to get undressed?” She’s still wearing a skirt.

  “No.”

  “What are you going to do, Anna?”

  “I’m going to ride you, Oliver. I’m going to show you that you’re mine. Fuck, you’re so damn hot. I’m so lucky to be here with you. I don’t want this moment to end.”

  Anna lifts her skirt and pulls her panties to the side, not bothering to take them off. Then she lowers herself slowly onto me. She sinks all the way down and just holds her hands on my shoulders.

  I love you is on the tip of my tongue.

  It shouldn’t be.

  I shouldn’t be thinking this about Anna. Our marriage is one of convenience, at least that’s what I keep telling myself. I’m doing her a favor. I’m doing this because Anna deserves to have someone take care of her. She deserves to have someone on her side.

  Her father left her an incredible inheritance and she shouldn’t be tricked out of that. If all it takes to ensure she gets what she deserves is a little bit of my time, then that’s fine. I’m willing to do it for her.

  I’d do anything for her.

  I love her.

  She grinds on me in time with the music. Her eyes are locked on mine as she fucks me. I move my fingers between us so I can rub her clit as my cock fills her, and she smiles and nods.

  “So fucking good,” she murmurs, closing her eyes. “So good. Fuck.”

  It’s not long before I’m on the edge of orgasm and I can tell by the way Anna’s tight pussy is clenching my cock that she’s not far behind me. She’s so close I can practically taste it.

  “Come for me, princess,” I murmur. “Come.”

  She raises herself up and when she sinks back down, I fill her completely, and she comes. She groans as the orgasm washes over her and when I see her climaxing, I can’t hold back any longer. I thrust up deeper into her and I come, too, filling her.

  Then Anna leans against my chest: her head pressed against my heart. I’m still inside of her as I hold her, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead, whispering that she’s beautiful, that she’s perfect, that I love her.

  I love her.

  Chapter 13

  Anna

  I love you.

  He whispered the words so quietly I almost didn’t hear him, but I did. The words wrap around me like a blanket, holding me in place, covering me with protection, offering me safety.

  After awhile, Oliver lifts me and carries me to bed. He holds me all night and when I wake up in the morning, I roll over and just look at him.

  He’s beautiful, and perfect.

  And I know I don’t deserve him.

  We spend the day together cooking, eating, and watching movies. The weekend is relaxing and long and fantastic, and on Monday, when I go back to work, Rita looks me up and down.

  “Damn,” she says.

  “What?”

  “You look better than you’ve ever looked.”

  I glance down at myself. “Um, thanks?”

  “You’re in love.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s obvious, honey.” She laughs and pours me a cup of coffee. “Trust me. I’ve been married three times. I know what a woman looks like when she’s in love.”

  “Is it scary?” I ask her, taking the hot mug from her hands.

  “What?”

  “Being married.”

  “Huh? No. No way. Being married is wonderful.”

  “I was just wondering,” I’m trying not to be awkward and failing miserably. “Because, um,” I’m going to have to tell people at work eventuall
y. It might as well be now. “Because I’m engaged.”

  “WHAT?” She shrieks. “Girl, how did I not know there was a man in your life? And where’s your ring?” She looks at my hand pointedly.

  “No engagement ring,” I tell her. “I don’t want one. We’re getting married really soon, like in a couple of weeks, and I didn’t want to spend money on a ring I’d only be wearing for a short time.”

  “Understandable. You’re frugal. I like that about you.”

  “Any advice?” She has been married three times, after all. Surely the woman knows a thing or two about surviving a marriage. Besides, I’m only going to be married for a year. It’s not going to be that hard, is it? For a year? I can’t imagine there’s anything Oliver could do, short of secretly being a serial killer, that would make being married to him for a year horrible.

  Just one year, and then we can split up.

  I don’t want to think about that, though, because every time I think about the possibility of saying goodbye to Oliver, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness.

  “Marriage advice? I don’t know if I’m the person to ask about that, honey. I’ve been married three times, but I’ve also been divorced three times, so I’m not exactly an expert.”

  “I value your opinion,” I tell the older woman. That seems to be enough to get her talking.

  “The thing about marriage,” Rita leans against the counter and takes a long sip of her coffee. “Is that it’s not just a relationship. It’s an experience. A lot of things change when you get married. Your relationship changes. You change. The way people interact with you changes. Sometimes your single friends won’t want to hang out as much because they’ll feel like they’re bothering you, or like you can’t take time away from your husband to be with them.”

  “That’s stupid. Why should getting married change your friendships?”

  “It shouldn’t. I agree, but it does, so just be ready for that. Be ready to compromise more than you ever thought you would. Be ready to learn how to communicate in new ways. Learning to live with another person is one thing, but learning how to share your entire life with someone is something entirely different. It’s wonderful, but scary.”

  “If you could do it all over again, knowing how things turned out, would you still have gotten married?”

  “Me? Of course,” Rita laughs. “But I’m a dreamer, honey. I’m a dreamer.”

  She heads off to do some paperwork and I find myself walking slowly to my desk. A couple of teachers greet me, but I’m caught up in my thoughts and don’t try to start any conversations.

  I still have to get a wedding dress, and Oliver and I have to pick out rings, and I have to figure out what we’re going to do for a reception. There are so many plans to finalize, so many things to do to make this wedding come together in a short amount of time, but all I can think about is that I don’t want it to end.

  I don’t want any of this to end.

  It’s selfish, I know, but I’m having such a lovely time with Oliver that the thought of leaving him terrifies me. Somehow, I feel like we’re perfect together. Somehow, I feel like everything is going to be okay.

  *

  When I get home that night, Oliver has dinner ready and on the table. I kiss him before we sit down to enjoy our meal together.

  “So, Carl was arrested today,” I tell him. “The police officer assigned to my case called me to let me know.”

  “I can’t say I’m not happy. The bastard deserves whatever he gets. I should have fought him when I had the chance.”

  “Trust me, you made the right call in letting the justice system handle this one,” I shiver thinking about what I would have done if I’d lost Oliver. I have no doubt he’d be able to take Carl, no doubt he’d come out the winner, but at what cost?

  Killing someone changes you, and I wouldn’t want to see Oliver change.

  Not like that.

  “What happened?” Oliver asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Apparently, he tried to break into my house again. One of my neighbors called it in. The cops caught him with a ton of gasoline.”

  “He was going to burn it down?”

  “They’re charging him with breaking and entering and attempted arson.”

  “Motherfucker,” he shakes his head. “I hope they give him the maximum sentence.”

  “Either way,” I shrug. “We won’t have to worry about him much longer.”

  “He’s still the executor of your estate,” Oliver points out. “But if he’s in jail, he can’t perform his duties and someone new will be appointed. I’m going to try to make sure it’s me.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “I would do anything for you, Anna. I’ve told you this.”

  “That’s quite the responsibility, though.”

  “Anything. I would do anything for you.”

  I put down my fork and push my plate away.

  “Something wrong with the food?”

  I walk over to him, place my hands on his shoulders, and take a deep breath.

  I love you is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it just yet. It’s still so new. It’s still so fresh, and those words are so final, so serious. So instead of saying the words we both need to hear, I kiss him. I kiss Oliver and kiss him and kiss him. I kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, like there’s nothing better or more important to me than him.

  I kiss him like I love him because, I’m realizing, I really, really do.

  Chapter 14

  Oliver

  Anna and I spend all of our free time together kissing, talking, watching movies, and making love. We’re having so much fun that I barely feel any stress from my clients or cases. I barely feel any anxiety about work at all, and that’s something new for me.

  Usually, I have trouble sleeping because I worry about my clients so much.

  Now?

  Now I sleep like a baby.

  At least until judgment day comes.

  Anna is nervous about meeting with the judge, but she doesn’t need to be. George Locke is one of the fairest judges I’ve ever worked with. He’s tough, and a total badass, but he’s also kind.

  He takes one look at the trust and calls bullshit on it.

  “Absolutely invalid,” he says, shaking his head. “A tiger clause? Really? They thought they’d be able to sneak that in. Unacceptable.”

  Anna breathes a huge sigh of relief and I squeeze her hand. If the judge notices our intimate gesture, he doesn’t say anything. I’ve worked with George long enough that I know he’s incredibly discreet.

  We work through some paperwork with the judge and his assistant, and then that’s it. Then we’re free. Then we can leave the courthouse, and on Anna’s 25th birthday, she’ll have full access to her trust fund and the land her daddy left her.

  And I couldn’t be happier for her.

  We get back to the house and head up to our apartment. Anna gets settled on the couch and I grab a bottle of Crown Royal from the freezer. I pour us each a glass and then come over and join her, settling down next to her.

  “To the future,” I say.

  “To the future.”

  We sip the alcohol and she leans her head on me. I’m so happy that Anna is going to get her money and she isn’t going to be forced into marriage. Not that I would have minded marrying her. It’s just that when you marry someone, it should be because you love them, and I don’t know that Anna loves me.

  Over the past few weeks, I’ve fallen hard for her in ways I never could have imagined. The more I get to know Anna, the more I realize she’s not like any other woman I’ve ever met. She’s different in every way, and I love her for that.

  I love everything about her.

  I just love her.

  “So what are you going to do now?” I ask, addressing the elephant in the room. “Carl is safely tucked away in jail, and you aren’t going to be forced to marry a shifter, so you could technically move back home if you wanted to.”

  “
What?” She sits up quickly and looks at me. Anna looks like this was the last thing she expected me to say. “You want me to leave?”

  “No,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t want that at all, sweetie, but you don’t have to marry me anymore. You’re free.” I point to the stack of papers we brought back from the courthouse that are now on the coffee table. “You don’t have to get married just to receive what your dad left you. You don’t have to.”

  “But…”

  “But what?”

  Anna doesn’t seem happy at the idea of not getting married, but that doesn’t make sense. She should be completely relieved. She should be happy, even. She’s never said I love you. She’s never said she wants to be with me because she likes me, because she wants me. Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind that she likes having sex and companionship and hanging out, but she’s never said she loves me.

  She should be happy that she has her freedom now.

  She can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants, go wherever she wants.

  She can do anything.

  “But I don’t want to go,” she whispers, and her eyes meet mine. They swirl with confusion and anguish and fear. They swirl with sadness and regret.

  “Why don’t you want to go?” I whisper. “This should make you happy. You don’t have to marry me.”

  “I want to marry you, Oliver,” she whispers. Anna starts to cry silently as she looks at me. She’s holding my hand tightly as she speaks. “I should have told you before, but I was scared.”

  “Should have told me what?”

  “That I love you.”

  I love you.

  Is this really happening?

  Did she really just say the words?

  Did Anna really just say she wants to be with me?

  My heart soars, and maybe I’m going crazy, but I want this, too. I want her. I never believed in mates before, and I’m still not sure if I do, but if there’s a mate for me in this world, it’s Anna.

  “I want to marry you, Oliver. I want that more than anything. I want to be with you and love you and spend time with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to laugh with you and cry with you and have babies with you. I want all of that.”

 

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