The Tiger and Her Wolves [Tigers of Twisted, Texas 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

  “But it’s a road I can choose to take, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  Chance and Dylan moved closer, putting her between them. She was caught in the middle between werewolves and weretigers, but as long as she was caught in the middle between the two men she loved, she could handle anything.

  “She’s our mate, Jackson. Whether anyone accepts us as mates doesn’t mean a damn thing.” Chance put his arm around her shoulder. “These babies came into our lives, not yours or anyone else’s. Unless the mother shows up to reclaim them—”

  “And prove that she’s really the best one to raise them,” interjected Dylan.

  “—then we keep them. Rachel’s not the only one who’s felt a bond with them.” Chance tightened his hold on her. “She’s not the only one who’s fallen in love with them.”

  “Damn straight.” Dylan crossed his arms.

  She felt more than heard the low growl rumbling out of him. Her vision blurred, not with amber as in a shift but with hot tears. Straightening to her full height, she stuck out her chin. “We’re not giving them up.”

  “They’re not yours, Rachel. For once, we’re in agreement with the werewolves.”

  Rachel’s confidence level dropped to the floor at the sound of Heath Asher’s voice. Two weretigers who were held in high regard in Twisted stalked toward her. Heath and Braden Asher drew closer, yet kept a small distance between themselves and the Jackson brothers. She searched behind them, hoping to see their mate, Kylie, but they were alone.

  If Kylie were here, she’d understand.

  She and Kylie had become good friends, often sharing their dreams for their lives as well as talking about the connection. She tried not to show her disappointment at the arrival of the Asher men. If they were there, then it meant the council of weretigers governing Twisted knew something was happening. Did they know the whole of it?

  “What are you doing here, Heath?” She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

  “Word gets around. What’s going on, Rachel? We found out about the werewolves, but we never expected to deal with two babies.”

  “You don’t have to deal with anything.” She straightened, feeling her tigress clawing its way to the surface.

  She didn’t look at Chance. She didn’t have to. She could sense both her men tensing. Their inner wolves were demanding to be set free, to fight for their mate and the children they’d claimed for their own.

  “At least we agree so far.” Richman jerked his head for Jackson to move toward the porch. “You get the girl, and we’ll take the boy. And Rachel? You’re coming with us.” He stalked toward the porch.

  Chance and Dylan started to shift, their bodies blurring as the sound of their clothes ripping began. She’d do anything to stay with her mates and more to keep the twins from being torn apart. But she wouldn’t start a war between the werewolves and the weretigers.

  “Stop!” Her shout rang out. A second later, the babies’ cries carried to the outside of the home.

  Her brother stalled, a stunned expression marring his features. Jackson and his brothers hadn’t moved, but they were as thrown as the others. With her men by her side, she made her ultimate stand.

  “Nobody’s taking my babies.” She shifted enough to bring out her fangs. “Don’t you understand? I feel the connection with my men.” She paused, letting that much sink in before giving them more. “And I feel it with the babies, too. Whether you like it or not, the five of us are fated to be together.”

  “Bullshit.” Richman clenched his fists. “The connection doesn’t work that way. Not with babies.”

  “You’re wrong, brother.” She arched an eyebrow, daring him.

  “You can’t stop us, Rachel,” warned Jarrod.

  The world around her lost its color and went to a golden color. “The hell I can’t.” A smile curved the corners of her mouth. “You just try me.”

  Richman looked to Jackson but didn’t get any help. “Damn it, sis. Get out of our way.”

  Her gaze slid to the werewolf leader. “Am I going to have to fight all of you?”

  Chance and Dylan had halted their shift but had changed enough to make speaking impossible. However, there was no way the others didn’t understand their aggressive growls.

  “No. You’re not.”

  Everyone turned their attention to Jackson.

  “The best thing we can do right now is to let things cool down.” He was backing off but not down. Not for good.

  “Fuck you, werewolf. We’re in charge of our sister.”

  “Fuck you, Jarrod.” She glared at her brother. “You’re not in charge of me any longer. Do as Jackson says, or you’ll be the first one to fall.”

  Her brothers gaped at her as though seeing a monster. When they finally recovered, Richman held up a hand, calling off his brother’s advance. “Fine. We’ll work together on this, Jackson.” He pointed a finger at her. “But we’re coming back, sis, and when we do, you’re coming home with us. Let’s go, men.”

  Turning on his heel, Richman motioned for Jarrod to follow. Their friends jumped at his command and stayed on her brothers’ heels.

  Once they were far enough away, Jackson let out a long breath. “You know this is only delaying the inevitable, Rachel.”

  Chance and Dylan shifted back, the tension of the change wafting off their bodies. Chance shook off the lingering effects of the transformation. “We’re not going to change our minds, Jackson. If your mate, Emma, had been a weretiger, would you have still mated her?”

  Jacob answered for his brother. “You know we would have.”

  “Then how can you expect us to walk away from Rachel?” asked Dylan.

  “I don’t. It’s the babies that are the real problem.” He ran his hand over his jaw. “We’ll be back. Until then, think about how far you’re willing to take this.”

  Together, the three werewolves heeled around and strode toward the three horses tied to the corral’s fence. They mounted their horses and then, with a look back at Rachel, spurred their mounts into a gallop across the pasture.

  She collapsed and would’ve fallen to the floor if her men hadn’t caught her. They helped her back inside the house and let her ease onto the couch. “The babies.”

  “We’ll get them.” Dylan headed toward the children.

  Chance leaned over her. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” At least physically. Emotionally, however, she wasn’t so sure. “What are we going to do? I can’t let them take them.” The tears that had sprung up before came back, stronger than ever. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either you two or the babies.”

  His determined expression was exactly what she needed to see. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of this one way or another.”

  “I can’t lose them. Or you or Dylan.”

  “Baby, the only way you’re going to lose those kids is if the mother shows up. Even then, she’ll have to prove she can take care of them.”

  “But I’m connected to them. How can I ever let them go?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s not worry about her right now. She abandoned the kids and took off. She’s not coming back. You rest while Dylan and I settle the kids down.”

  She nodded, wanting to believe him. Yet, the knot in her stomach wouldn’t let her.

  What if he’s wrong? If she shows up, what will I do?

  * * * *

  Rachel couldn’t rest. Instead, she lay on the bed, her mind going a mile a minute. Too much had happened. She’d known the Rothman cousins were her mates but had always assumed the part of her that felt empty belonged to yet another man. Or even more than one other man. She’d kept herself open to almost any possibility. Yet she’d never expected the hole inside her to be filled with infants born from another woman.

  But wasn’t that the way of the connection? Mysterious and emotional, the connection wasn’t something anyone fully understood. It brought mates together because the souls were meant to be togethe
r. What they were didn’t matter. So why shouldn’t bonded mates be able to connect with two children who needed them? Didn’t humans do the same whenever they adopted a child? Weren’t the prospective parents already half in love before they’d even met the child? Having the connection bring not only mates but also their adoptive children together made sense.

  So why was it difficult for others to understand? Would they ever fully grasp it, especially if they’d never felt the connection?

  Her brothers hated the idea that her mates were werewolves, but expecting them to accept two hybrid children was asking a lot. She loved Richman and Jarrod with all her heart, but she couldn’t keep letting them tell her what to do. Weretigers were alphas in the household, expecting the females to let them take the lead, but there was only so much a strong woman could take to keep the peace. She wanted to respect their wishes, but fighting the connection, even if she’d wanted to, was next to impossible.

  “We figured you wouldn’t be sleeping.” Chance’s voice was teasing, yet rich and full, filled with a sensuality she felt deep in her bones.

  She twisted onto her back. “I tried. It’s just that I can’t get my mind to take a break.”

  Dylan and Chance moved toward her. The way they walked, quietly yet with an intensity that spoke of their strength, had her breath hitching in her throat. Every ounce of her came alive, sizzling with the knowledge that they were her mates. Her pussy wept, the moisture bursting from her like a flood over a dam. She sat up as her pulse pounded in her ears.

  “We’ll take your mind off things for a while.”

  She shivered at the gravely tone of Dylan’s voice. His eyes blazed, and the muscle in his jaw clenched, showing his need, as he swaggered closer. She ached to have his hands on her, his tongue sliding over her dark recesses, in between her legs, then around the tight circles of her anus.

  “You can try.” She had no doubt they’d succeed, but why not make them work for it? Smiling, she slid off the other side of the bed.

  Chance frowned, not yet understanding. “Where are you going?”

  “That depends on you.” She inched around the end of the bed. No way would she be able to dart past them. But then again, she didn’t really want to. She shifted, bringing out the speed of her tigress without letting any other part of the beast take over, and ran.

  She laughed, even as Dylan wrapped his arm around her waist, took her off her feet, and fell top of her. Air whooshed out of her as she landed on her stomach, face down to the carpet.

  “You’re not going anywhere, sugar. Not if we have anything to say about it.”

  Struggling against him, she twisted around. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, baby. He’s right.” Chance towered over her, his smirk adding to the confidence in his voice.

  “Prove it to me,” she dared.

  “Prove what?” Dylan cupped a breast, his attention squarely on her face, on her reaction.

  “Prove you’re my mates. Claim me.”

  His animal answered back with a growl. A second later, her shirt was torn from her and tossed to the side. Her breath picked up speed as she panted in anticipation. Her cream flowed from her, a mini-climax that would make way for the bigger one.

  Dylan’s strong hands did their work fast, ripping her bra away then jerking on her jeans until they, too, tore away under his overwhelming strength. He rolled off her only enough to rid her of her clothes. She tried to get up, tried to move, but he held her down with his body and his hungry gaze.

  Her attention shifted to Chance. Silently watching, he undressed, taking off his shirt slowly enough to drive her crazy, wanting him to move faster. The sounds of his belt sliding through the loops of his jeans seemed as sensual as a lover’s sweet whispers. He shucked off his boots, never once taking his eyes from her, then shoved his jeans to his ankles.

  She gasped as Dylan slid low, nipping and kissing his way between her breasts, over the hollow of her torso, and over the low rise of her stomach. Warm breath pelted her skin with the flicks of his tongue. She cried out as his tongue made a seductive circle around her bellybutton then plunged inside.

  She dug her fingernails first into his shoulders then tunneled them through his thick hair. Her chest rose and fell with each labored breath.

  Chance went to his knees and stroked her hair. “You’re ours, Rachel. If you don’t know we’ve already claimed you, then we’ve done a piss-poor job of proving it.” His erect cock bobbed close to her face, but not close enough. The glistening of his pre-cum teased her.

  They couldn’t transform her into a werewolf, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t bite her and leave their mark on her. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to have a physical sign on her body showing the world that she was theirs. If she had her way, she’d do the same to them.

  Dylan’s fingers toyed with the lace of her undies. “I want to taste your cream, sweet kitty.” He eased his hand under the soft material then between her pussy folds.

  She lifted her head, needing to watch him pleasure her. Another small climax waved outward from her pussy. “It’s all yours. Yours and Chance’s.”

  The sheer joy reflected on his face had her mewling. If she did nothing more in her life, seeing that level of joy on both her men’s faces would be enough.

  He pulled his fingers free then put them under his nose. Closing his eyes then opening them, he smiled. “Damn, but you smell amazing. Perfect.”

  She squirmed, trying to move nearer to Chance’s cock. At the same moment, Dylan rid her of her panties then shoved his face between her legs. A cry broke from her lips as she opened her mouth and drew Chance’s cock inside.

  The feel of Dylan’s mouth on her clit while her tongue circled Chance’s cock filled her with a passion she’d never experienced. Lust scoured her, burning its way throughout her body. She needed to move, at once loving their touches and kisses, yet unable to stand the sweet torture.

  Take it slower. Make it last.

  Yet, she knew she couldn’t. A need like the one filling her wouldn’t be delayed. She thrust her hips higher, ramming against Dylan’s face as hard as she could. What she craved, to have his face buried even deeper into her, was not physically possible, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to make it happen.

  “Oh God, yes.”

  Chance gripped her hair tightly, sending stabs of pain, but she didn’t care. The pain added to the pleasure. She flattened a palm against his hard thighs and did her best to work her head back and forth. He helped her, holding her to him.

  “That’s it, baby. You can’t suck too hard. Hell and damnation, but that’s good.” He captured her breast and tortured her nipple with his thumb. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”

  Fuck me. Fuck me now.

  Yet she wouldn’t take his cock from her mouth to tell him so.

  Her pussy was on fire, searing with a burning that started with Dylan’s mouth then blazed into her pussy and torched her clit. She ached for release but tried to hold back, tightening her abdomen. Moaning, she reached for Chance’s balls and caught them.

  The climax, greater than those before it, ripped into her, shuddering her body. She cried out, both in frustration at not getting fucked yet to sheer relief in the release.

  Dylan drank up her juices, noisily, latching his mouth to her pussy then driving his tongue deep within her dark space. The harder he sucked, the more he nibbled, the more she claimed. Yet, before she had finished, he lifted onto his knees then yanked her lower torso higher. Putting his cock at her entrance, he rammed into her.

  She was impaled as thoroughly as if he’d shoved a battering ram into her pussy. Letting out a cry, she still held on to Chance’s cock with her hand. His juices slickened her mouth as she gripped her breast and squeezed as if that would somehow keep her body grounded to the earth.

  “No, baby. Those are for me.” Chance pushed her hand aside and took command of her tit then bent low. He raked his tongue betwe
en her breasts, wetting her skin.

  She couldn’t say anything. Her body was caught in the throes of their sex, her mind no longer the commanding presence.

  Chance threw his leg over her, straddling her. Shoving her breasts together, he caught his cock in the middle. His length was hard, thick as he rocked back and forth, setting up a delicious friction. “Damn, but she’s tight any way you take her.”

  Rachel gripped his firm, round butt cheeks. Instinct, primal and raw, had her lifting her head and sinking her teeth into his surprisingly soft flesh.

  “Fuck. She bit me.”

  Dylan’s chuckle was strained as he plunged into her again. He played with her clit, massaging it to the point of being painful. “Good for her, and only fair since we plan on doing the same to her.”

  They didn’t speak again. Instead, the sounds they made were somewhere between human and animal. Their existence was only in the room, and nothing was important except pleasing each other. Briefly, her thoughts flitted to the babies, but knowing they were safe, she pushed them from her mind. For now.

  “Mine.” The word came out a growl as Chance pulled away. Shoving his cousin back, he took his place. “Mine,” he said again as he shoved his cock inside her pussy.

  Dylan had fallen away with ease, but he wasn’t finished. Getting behind her, he lifted her up as Chance leaned back.

  She took hold of Chance’s shoulders and dug in her fingernails. The smooth skin of his neck beckoned to her.

  There. That’s where I’ll leave my mark.

  Her idea was shoved aside with the thrust of Dylan’s cock deep into her asshole. She cried out, her hair falling into her face as she bent her body, accommodating both men at once. Dylan took a handful of her hair, holding it like the reins to a horse to keep her head pulled back. The front of his legs slapped against the back of hers as his balls tickled her crease of her ass. Harder, faster he pushed his cock inside her dark hole. His panted breaths tapped a rhythm against her shoulder.

  Chance’s eyes closed as he thrust into her then held his cock inside before slowly pulling it out. While Dylan’s pounding grew faster, taking her breath away, Chance’s was slow and deliberate, teasing her while, at the same time, fulfilling her.