Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love?

by Belinda McBride

  He reached up and stroked her cheek, smiling as she turned her face into his hand. “Do you trust me, Chloe?”

  She looked at his face for a moment. “I t-trus…” She looked up at him with an abject expression on her face.

  “Yes?”

  She nodded at his question, embarrassed by her speech.

  “Okay. I’m taking you to my hotel; it’s not too far away, and if you need, we can go to the beach from there to clear your head. Then we’ll head to the Final Cut. See if we can find anyone with answers…” He reached up and lifted a heavy mat. “…about your hair.” She looked surprised at his statement. “Your boss Riley suggested I see if anyone at the Final Cut can help me out with your hair. And I think that’s an excellent suggestion.”

  Obviously, her thought process was still together enough to follow what he was saying. “You think…” She swallowed, focusing on her words. “Did someone do this to me?” She licked her lower lip and Antonio bent down, swiping it with his tongue.

  “I’m beginning to think there’s something very odd about a crazy woman who becomes sane when she’s near the water. And I think a paranormal bar is just the place to go to find out about it. You agree?”

  She nodded.

  “Are you ready to go?” In answer, Chloe O’Shea stood up, gripping his forearm. Her hand slid down until she clasped his, lacing their fingers together. He looked down at his Siberian and felt a warm rush in his chest. Elsewhere as well, but the feeling in his chest was what concerned him most.

  Someone had hurt his little mate, and that someone was going to pay.

  Chapter Eight

  He’d nearly lost her twice. The first time, she’d panicked when they entered the hotel. It was one of Miami’s older boutique establishments, with walls the color of pastel sherbet and exotic palms growing in every available niche. They’d entered the elevator, which proved to be too much for her. It had barely climbed a floor before he’d hauled her from the small car, took her hand and climbed to the seventh floor. Once they entered the plush, elegant room, Coco rushed to the window, standing with her nose to the window glass, and looking longingly out at the beach.

  The second time had been more serious, and seriously delightful. After unpacking her purchases, they’d taken the stairs back down to have lunch in the dimly lit café down the street from the hotel. She’d been next to him one moment, and was racing out across the sand of the beach the next. By the time Antonio had caught her, she was thigh deep in the ocean, laughing as the waves foamed around her skin. It took only a few minutes before she’d pulled him in, romping, racing and splashing water into his face.

  That’s when Antonio remembered tigers liked to play in the water.

  He’d scooped her up as he plunged into a rolling wave, ignoring the drenched linen of his summer suit. He stripped his jacket and shirt as well as his shoes, shrugging off the loss. The knit dress clung to Coco’s curves, and while he’d have liked seeing more, Antonio was grateful for the bikini she still wore underneath.

  Which reminded him: there was a lingerie shop nearby.

  Finally exhausted, Coco hopped up onto Antonio, her arms looped around his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips. His cock grew hard and she smiled down at him wickedly. “If only we were alone…”

  “Later. Tonight. We’ll come back here when everyone’s gone.” He was pretty sure the beach was never completely deserted, but he’d keep them hidden from curious eyes. Antonio lowered himself to the sand, close enough to the water to keep them both wet.

  “You really think someone actually did this to me? Like… like a curse?”

  “I do. It wasn’t sudden. You managed to function well enough to tie up the loose ends of your life. No one was suspicious until a great deal of time had passed. Your brother started searching when Jedidiah tried to hire you to cover Mya’s case.”

  “But why? I had the big case with the condos, but handed most of my other cases off to other attorneys in the months leading up to it. I can’t remember what I did after.” She leaned into him, propping her chin on his shoulder. He reached around, cradling her bottom.

  “You began to make arrangements to leave. Maybe if we cover some of your other cases, you’ll remember something.” Antonio watched the ocean as the waves steadily rolled in. He heard others laughing, calling out to one another. A kiteboarder danced on the waves and became airborne, like a giant, colorful bird. In the distance a cruise ship made it stately way to another port of call.

  “I don’t really remember much. The cases I do remember were a few years ago.”

  “Gantry vs. Pelham?” She shook her head. “James Johnson? Fernando and Olivia Margeuilles?” Everything he tossed out was negative. “Maybe we need to go look into your files. Would they all be in your office?”

  “No, I kept copies of everything at home on my computer.” She looked at him. “Which is in storage. Wherever that might be.”

  He grinned. “I do know where that might be. But it’s in Ft Lauderdale, and we need to retrieve your ID for them to issue a key. Of course, locks usually aren’t a problem if you happen to have a bolt cutter handy.”

  She sighed. “No quick, easy answers.” She climbed off Antonio, allowing him to stand.

  “No, but we have a lead. We’ll go to the Final Cut. Keep going there until someone shows up who might have answers.”

  “Answers? How do we get those when we don’t even know the questions?”

  Antonio pulled her to his body, enjoying the sensation of bare skin, wet clothing and warm air. They’d need to go back to his room to shower and change. Maybe they’d try sex in a bed for once. He leaned down, kissing her neck, her jaw, and then her mouth. She opened to him willingly and without fear this time. When he was confident that she was well and truly aroused, he broke the kiss and gazed down into her unusual eyes.

  “First we find out how. That will lead us to why.”

  “Then we’ll know who.”

  “Exactly. Then, we’ll handle it.” He turned, giving her his back. “Ready to face the perils of dry land?” He turned and bent slightly. She vaulted lightly to his back, settling comfortably. He carried her easily; she seemed to weigh next to nothing. But as she nuzzled his neck and jaw, every step got harder to take and the distance became interminable. But the time they returned to the hotel, they were both more than willing to take the elevator.

  * * *

  “Stand still!” Antonio juggled the conditioner bottle, a comb, and the slippery naked women whose antics were driving him to distraction. Clearly, he needed more than two hands. The moment he let her loose, she was sliding down to her knees, teasing and tasting, exploring his cock, his balls and beyond. With an exasperated sigh, he filled his palm with the expensive hair product and saturated her hair with it even as her exploring finger breeched his ass. His hips jerked forward and his aroused cock collided with her cheekbone.

  “Ow!” She fell back onto her naked bottom. “You could put an eye out with that thing!”

  For a moment, he just stared at the bedraggled woman at the bottom of his shower. Carefully, he recapped the bottle and leaned back against the wet tile wall.

  And then he laughed.

  Antonio held his sides, and some sane, abstract compartment in his brain told him this wasn’t a funny moment, but really, it was. He’d nearly put out her eye with his cock… all because she’d stuck her finger up his ass! He laughed, sliding to the floor of the shower, water pelting down into his face. He sobered momentarily, looking at Coco through the sheet of water. Her gaze was averted, but she was smiling too.

  “It’s good to see you laugh, Antonio.” She scooted across the tile, slitting her eyes against the sting of the water. “You don’t do it enough.”

  “I think you do it enough for both of us. Were you this silly before?” He held out his hands, pulling her into his lap. The giant shower was like a big slip-and-slide: dangerous, but the potential for fun was there. His cat loved it.

  She leaned
back, rinsing the conditioner from her hair. “Maybe. I suppose sometimes. Not once I started at the firm. I wonder if maybe that’s why… you know. I lost my husky.”

  She looked so despondent at the idea, it nearly broke his heart. He held her close, and then leaned back so he could study her face. “No, it’s still there, but trapped. This whole thing stinks of magic.”

  “Really? You can smell it?”

  He grinned. “No, not really smell, more like sense it. At home in Brazil, I saw some odd stuff. A lady in my neighborhood practiced Macumba. She was a healer and did some very impressive charms. My parents were afraid of her and tried to make me stay away from her and her son. Of course, that never worked. They were always worried she’d figure out our secret.”

  “She knew you were shifters?”

  “No, she knew we were Russians.” He grinned at her look of surprise. “My family didn’t… blend in too well among the natural born Siberian tigers.”

  “Well, you aren’t a natural born tiger; you wouldn’t blend in any case.”

  He reached out, tweaking a strand of matted hair. “No, we were a bit too different. So about a century ago, my family immigrated. The jungles of Brazil promised plenty of hunting and an environment we would better adapt to. The family adopted the name of Silva. From there, we never looked back.”

  She stared at him. “So, what’s so different about you?”

  “You’d have to see my animal.” Would she be willing to let him shift, or would Coco flee in terror? He saw the curiosity play over her features. If nothing else, both types of Siberian shared a healthy curiosity. She slid off his lap, standing to turn off the water. He enjoyed the curves of her body and the glistening water on her skin. His hand dropped to his groin and he casually palmed his erection.

  “Show me your tiger.”

  He lifted a brow at her in question.

  “I won’t run. I promise.”

  He sighed. “And I promise not to harm you in any way. I’m my animal and my animal is me. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “That’s how it used to be for me.” She stood against the tile wall of the shower, her hands flat on the surface behind her.

  Antonio took a deep breath and relaxed. That’s all it took to unlock the form he held and allow the tiger to step forward. It felt good, like water flowing over his skin. A thought, an intention and there he was, reclining on the wet floor of the shower, blinking lazily up at Coco, whose eyes were huge.

  “Ohhhh… I see. No, you probably didn’t fit in too well there in the mountains and snow.” She dropped to the floor and slid forward on her bottom, reaching out to stroke the thick ruff of fur around his cheeks. To his surprise and delight, his little Siberian snuggled up close, leaning against him, her hands digging into his fur. “God, you feel so good.”

  If tigers could purr, he’d be doing so right now.

  * * *

  Coco pushed back the tiny flutter of alarm when a giant, magnificent tiger manifested in front of her. She’d seen hundreds of shifts, but had rarely seen someone flow so gently into their alternate form. And he wasn’t the typical orange and black of most tigers. He wasn’t even white or marmalade like Mya. Antonio was reverse-colored: jet black fur punctuated by thin white stripes. In the snow or on the tundra, he’d have stood out in a dangerous fashion. His coloring was much better suited for the darker rain forests of the Amazon.

  His eyes were not the leaf green she expected, but the same whisky brown of the human Antonio. He blinked lazily and lifted a huge paw, batting gently at her. No wonder he was so freakin’ pushy. Who’d say no to a monster like this? He probably outweighed David by fifty pounds or so! And he was hers, completely at her service.

  Well, it might actually be the other way around. He was damned possessive as well. And dominant. And too damned handsome for his own good. But still, his fur was soft and lush, and she couldn’t help leaning in, burying her face in the silky warmth of his coat. She must have pushed the right button because he rolled to his back, baring his belly, and a whole lot more.

  “Happy I’m here, eh?”

  He made a chuffing noise deep in the back of his throat.

  “Well, you’re the one flashing that thing. And those things!”

  He rolled back to his belly, rising to his feet in a smooth movement. She laughed when he popped the shower door open with his paw and stalked into the other room, his long tail twitching. No man like being laughed at, especially where his family jewels were concerned.

  Chloe grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, and then used a hand towel to blot the water from her dreadlocks. She stood in front of the foggy mirror for a moment, grimacing at the mess of her hair. Even if they were proper dreads, they still just weren’t right. She tugged at one long mat and glanced around, hoping for a pair of scissors. But then, if this had something to do with magic, cutting them wouldn’t really solve the problem. At the best, she’d end up a skinhead.

  She sighed noisily and stepped out of the bathroom, tripping over the low threshold. Damn! Being in the shower had helped a little, but just moments dry and she was falling all to pieces again. How could a magnificent creature like Antonio Silva tolerate a crazy, crippled shifter like her? What if it wasn’t a curse or a spell, but her own defective psyche? Panic ripped through her like a wave, and she started for the door, jerking it open just a few inches before the security lock caught with a jolt. She scrambled, and then screamed in frustration as a huge black body pushed between her and the door, halting her escape. He butted his head into her belly, pushing her backwards into the bedroom. She took a step, stumbled and went down on her bottom.

  In frustration, Coco leaned forward, her arms on her knees, sobs wracking her body. She clutched her head, tugging at her matted hair. A rough tongue swiped her bare arm; a rough growl sounded soft as a lullaby. Antonio nudged her with his massive head, knocking her backwards to the plush carpet on the floor. For one breathless moment, she lay looking up at him; the erotic suggestion of their position took her breath away. The spell was broken as the tiger shimmered and vanished, to be replaced by Antonio. Apparently pushing her around in his tiger form wasn’t enough.

  “Chloe --”

  “Coco.” She blinked, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Words were becoming difficult to summon.

  “You don’t have two personalities, baby. Your name is Chloe.” Frustration showed in his eyes. “You were doing so good, kitten. What scared you?”

  She pushed herself upright, the towel stayed behind on the floor. His gaze shifted to her breasts and hunger flared in their golden depths.

  “Coco… nickname.”

  “So the name isn’t new?” She shook her head, glad he’d gotten the gist of her cryptic attempts to speak. “OK, if you prefer, I’ll call you Coco. Now that we’ve settled your name, what scared you? I scented a spike of fear.” He settled next to her on the floor, just as naked as she. His golden body was perfect and flawless. Not a scar, nor a blemish. He wasn’t tattooed or pierced or marked in anyway. Just sculpted cheekbones, a cleft chin and the most perfect nose she’d ever seen on a man, elegant and slightly arched. His mouth was made for sin and his accent was heaven. God, she loved him.

  “Modeling. Why’d you stop?”

  “Nice way to change the subject.” He smiled briefly. “But that’s fair. I started because the money was good. It made me the center of attention. I was kind of famous there for a while.” She tilted her head, urging him on. “I partied. I was everyone’s darling. I had my choice of lovers. Then one day I woke up naked on a beach and didn’t know where the hell I was. I didn’t even know what country I was in. I looked around, saw paw prints in the sand near me. I’d become so… human that my cat finally rebelled. So I figured out where the hell I was -- it was Mexico, by the way -- finished out my contracts and quit. Went to school and took enough law enforcement classes to work as a PI. I do run of the mill investigations out of my office in Seattle and paranormal cases for W
orth.”

  She focused on the words she wanted to say. “Better now?”

  “Much. The tiger’s happy. I’m happy too.” He looked at her as he said those words. “Now your turn. What scared you?”

  She felt tears start in her eyes. Coco slapped her forehead. “Stupid.” She tugged her ratted hair. “Ugly.”

  Antonio grabbed her hands, holding her wrists. “No, Coco. You’re beautiful and smart. We’ll get this figured out and fixed.”

  “If not?” she asked.

  He sighed. “Then we live with it. We build on the beach, and you can work from home. You know, like they show in the beer commercial.” She smiled through tears. “We, Coco. You aren’t alone anymore, so no more running away. All right?”

  She nodded.

  “Now up. Get dressed. We’ve got to head down to Final Cut.” He stood and hauled her to her feet. He then turned away, opening the large closet. Coco sat on the edge of the bed and craned her neck, trying to watch his tight butt as he shifted clothing around, bending down to retrieve shoes. She moved, twisted, and finally ended up on her back, her head hanging down from the edge of the bed.

  “Ya know I can see you in the mirror.”

  He paused in mid-motion, one foot down in a pair of light tan trousers. He twisted and looked back at her.

  “What on Earth are you doing?” He looked adorable like that, upside down and confused.

  “See, I’m looking up into the mirror… and it’s… catching the dressing door mirror… Good view.” She grinned at the perplexed expression on his face. “No… don’t move… ahhh…” she trailed off in disappointment. But in just a second, she was looking up at the man himself, who was looking down at her as she dangled off the bed.

  And his groin was just inches from her face. She smiled, reached over her head and tugged open his unbelted trousers. He was hard and erect, and she literally felt the heat of his cock as it hovered just inches from her mouth. She opened her mouth and licked, missing him by just a fraction of an inch. “Closer.”

  “You think you can give me a blow job while you’re hanging upside down off the bed?” He was stifling a smile, but lust was rising in his expression. She waggled a brow and stuck out her tongue.