Tequila and Tigers: Book Two: Shifters and Sins

by Lane, Cecilia

  What could a man like him really offer her? Life on the road barely allowed for three different outfits and enough scratch for drinks and a bed. There were no 401Ks or college funds in his world. No down payments for homes. Nothing except making it through the next job, for which he deserved more time behind bars than it took to dry out.

  He was not a good man. Not by a long shot. Stalking her father for a chance to take him down proved that much.

  One by one, the office lights flicked off. People exited in singles or groups, chatting with each other or heading straight to their vehicles. Minutes ticked by until only one office remained occupied.

  Wyatt waited several more minutes for the usual SUV to slink around the corner. When Harris’s goons didn’t show, he hoofed it across the street.

  Had he missed Harris leaving? Or was he walking into a trap?

  Wyatt circled the building, pausing at windows and listening closely. No sound. No steps. There were too many scents for him to pick any apart, but he didn’t think anyone but Harris lingered inside.

  He glanced at his phone. Fifteen minutes until he was due at Alanna’s.

  The choice weighed on him. Harris or his family. Time spent with Alanna and Atticus or revenge for everything they’d been denied.

  Wyatt’s wolf paced through him, growl lifting his lips. Sendings flashed through his head and Wyatt knew which he needed to pick.

  * * *

  The rich spices of Alanna’s scent swirled in his nose the moment the door swung open. Wyatt was struck speechless. By the Broken, she was gorgeous. Her long hair hung loosely around her shoulders and all he could think about was wrapping handfuls in his fists and arching her against him.

  Her nails bit into his arm hard enough to draw a hiss from his chest. She dragged him inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

  His wolf bolted upright and alert in an instant. “What’s wrong? Where’s Atticus?”

  Alanna growled. Amber leached into her eyes and she whirled away from the door. Sharp anger stung Wyatt’s nose as he stalked after her.

  The thump of music was clue enough. The light under the door, too. But even if those were just an attempt to hide his latest jailbreak, Atticus’s scent was fresh enough for the boy to still be inside the apartment.

  Not Atticus, then. Wyatt’s hackles rose at whatever had Alanna pacing through the living room.

  He planted his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him. Warmth flared to life under his palms and traveled up his arms to settle in his chest. Anger and irritation sparked, too, at the unseen threats he wanted to maul.

  “Alanna,” he growled. “What happened?”

  “My father,” she spat out the word, “came to see me today. He wants to mate me off and move Atticus into the streak.”

  The words struck him like a freight train and rolled over him until he was ground down into nothing but pure rage. He wanted to go back in time and slip into Harris’s office and pummel the man until he couldn’t be identified, then break every bone in his damn body.

  Fuck that asshole’s plans. Wyatt’s chest rattled with a possessive growl. No one would claim Alanna. No one would take their child.

  “Why now?” Wyatt demanded in a harsh tone. He had a damn good idea, but he wanted to know the asshole’s reasoning.

  He could have ended the problem that night if he hadn’t been so eager to get back to Alanna and Atticus. That he couldn’t keep away from them probably put the plans on the table. Or maybe they were there all along, and that was why Harris warned him away to begin with.

  Didn’t fucking matter. He was involved now and neither Alanna nor Atticus were being taken from him again.

  “He says it’s because Atticus keeps getting into trouble. What he really meant was because he’s out an heir and someone with a bit of his blood is better than none at all.” Alanna’s eyes flashed amber again and she spun out of his grasp to pace again. “Thirteen years and he still just wants to sell me off. I will fight tooth and claw if he tries to take my boy from me.”

  Wyatt leaned back in admiration. His wolf growled with approval. She looked as fierce as the night they were reunited when she thought he’d hurt their son.

  Harris wanted an heir? He’d have nothing but ashes and tears to pass on once Wyatt was done ripping apart his pathetic little kingdom.

  His wolf itched to get on the move, to hunt, to bleed the bastard. Wyatt yanked back on the desires. He’d abandoned Alanna once. He wouldn’t do it again.

  The hunt could wait. His family needed him.

  His.

  They were right there, ready for him to step into a role he’d never thought would be his. All he had to do was treat them right, try not to make a mess of things, and be better than the withered old dickface that thought he still held sway over their lives.

  Tempting. So fucking tempting. And so easy to lose.

  He wasn’t a good man, but Alanna and Atticus made him want to fucking try.

  Doubts slithered in the silence. The fire left Alanna, though restless steps still carried her back and forth across the living room.

  She pulled her hair over one shoulder and ran her fingers through the strands. Uncertainty grew in her scent as she stared at Atticus’s door for a long, solemn minute.

  When she turned to Wyatt, worry reflected in her eyes. “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I? Maybe he needs more than I can give him.”

  “How can you even ask that?” Wyatt caught her chin between his fingers and turned her face to him. He loathed Harris even more for planting doubts in the strong woman’s mind. “You know the shit the man has pulled. You’re his mother, Alanna. Growing up with you is better than growing up with your father and being used as a pawn.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his chest. “What am I going to do?”

  Wyatt stroked a hand down her hair. “You mean, what are we going to do? We’re going to keep him away from that toxic fucking streak.”

  “I can’t watch Atticus every moment of the day. What’s to prevent him from just taking him?” She shook her head and pulled back to look him in the eyes. “I can’t let you get caught in the crossfire again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere this time,” he promised on a growl. “Not until you know Atticus is safe from this sort of fuckery.”

  And maybe not even then.

  “You’re a good man, Wyatt. How you don’t see that is beyond me.” She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

  Firecrackers set off down his spine, exploding his control one pop at a time until nothing but Alanna remained. His wolf howled in victory and in longing. He wanted to claim her mouth, her body, mix his scent with hers so no one would ever doubt where, exactly, she belonged.

  The idea of someone telling her who to mate was so absurd when she clearly fit with him.

  The gentle kiss turned to more between one hot second and another. She moaned and parted her lips, and Wyatt took the invitation. He swept his tongue into her mouth and slid his hands down her body to mold her frame to his. He wanted to drown in the feel of her skin against his, her tongue tangling with his own, their breath coming faster and faster.

  The need to protect her awakened in every inch of his mind and body.

  His.

  “Alanna.” He choked on her name and all the words that came after. Wyatt wrapped his fingers around her wrists. He guided her backward until her shoulders met a wall, all while he breathed against her neck. “Alanna, stop me. Tell me to go. Because if you don’t, I’m going to make up for lost time.”

  She leaned forward and caught his lip between her teeth. “I need this. Need to feel something other than hurt and worry. Need to feel you.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Wyatt dug his fingers into her hips before sliding his palms to her ass. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll only make you feel good.”

  Chapter 10

  Alanna threaded her fingers into Wyatt’s hai
r and dragged him into a kiss. They bounced off one wall, the picture frame shaking but staying mounted to its nail. The feet between living room and her bedroom disappeared, exactly how the years between them faded into nothing.

  She wanted him as strongly as ever. She wanted to forget all the troubles that kept them apart.

  “Door,” she whimpered. Wyatt backed her hard against the wall, his lips on her throat. Sanity was hard to reach and even harder to concentrate on with his mouth trailing devastation down her neck. “Lock it.”

  He slid her down his body, hard angles stroking against her softer curves. He was pure power and focused entirely on her.

  There was power in that, too.

  She was more than a mother with him. They had a past that threatened to rise up and swallow them whole. Either that, or carry them safely back to shore—together.

  Alanna grabbed his shirt, bunching it between her fingers and exposing inches of rippling muscles underneath. Too slow for him, Wyatt yanked it over his head. Her shirt followed, flying to some far corner of the room. Her bra disappeared, too, and Wyatt’s big hands cupped her breasts.

  He didn’t give her a moment to think as his mouth crashed back over hers. Hot, fast, hard, he delved between her lips as he palmed her sides, her ass, everywhere he could touch. Fire blazed under his hands and ignited her own frantic need to feel every inch of him.

  Taking her time, that was good. Not feasible when blood pounded in her ears and harsh breaths gasped from her mouth. Need curled through her, expanding slowly until she felt like she’d combust under the next swipe of his tongue.

  Wyatt shifted and landed a thigh between her legs and holy hell. His hard length pressed against her through his jeans, leaving zero question about what he wanted. Hands shaking, tongue dry, Alanna slid her hands down his naked chest. Tattoos darkened his pecs and shoulders and ran down his arms. He dropped his head against her shoulder with a growl as she yanked down his zipper.

  He was big. Almost intimidatingly so. She’d almost chickened out the first time they slept together, but he’d been careful with her then. Slow and steady, instead of the grips and growls that drove him at that moment.

  Alanna wanted both. She wanted slow. She wanted fast. Hard. Loving. Anything that would satisfy the need burning through her as she wrapped her fingers around his thick cock and pumped his length. She needed him filling her to the brim and dragging pleasure from her body.

  “Alanna, kitten,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

  Another growl vibrated in his chest, through her, scorching her nerves and thoughts and body. Wyatt flayed opened her jeans and slid a hand inside.

  Alanna moaned into his shoulder the moment his fingers found her center. He rocked relentlessly, driving her blindingly fast toward her release. The frantic pace matched that of another devouring kiss, fingers and tongue working in time to consume her.

  Stars appeared behind her lids; her skin prickled. Alanna leaned into Wyatt, as pleasure coursed through her veins. Her nails bit into his shoulders and arms as her body throbbed around his fingers.

  “That’s it.” Wyatt breathed into her ear, then traced his tongue over the shell. “That’s what I want, kitten. Let me feel you come. Fuck, I need to taste you.”

  He dropped to his knees and ripped her jeans and panties down her legs. The quick moves were tempered by the gentle lifting of her feet to free her from the tangle. Alanna understood the restraint he wrestled with.

  Wyatt paused, growl rattling in his chest. Silver eyes swept down her body and his mouth hitched up in a devilish smirk. “Oh, kitten,” he ground out, “you’re as gorgeous as I remembered.”

  Then he bent his head and licked her.

  Alanna danced under him until his hands came down on her thighs. Appreciative groans and growls spiked the air. Wyatt rolled silver eyes upward to watch her reaction and Alanna couldn’t look away. Not from him or what he was doing or the utter adoration that brightened in his eyes.

  Mate.

  Her tigress rumbled with the need for more. They already had the past. They had a cub. Two marks, one for each of them, would bind them together for the rest of their lives.

  It was hard not to hope for that ending.

  He’d been great with Atticus. Considerate of their lives and the void he’d left and then filled. Forced to pick between an arranged mating or dipping her toe into the past, she chose the past.

  She chose Wyatt.

  Rough wolf. Wild man. Past deeds not fit for conversation. She wanted the hints of danger he carried with him as well as the good, protective man he’d shown himself to be.

  As if he heard her thoughts and needed to brand his commitment on her, he growled. The fierce vibrations knocked against her while he sucked and licked and flicked her clit. His fingers speared her again, working tirelessly to bring her back to the cliff he’d thrown her from once already.

  That had always been his way. He needed her screams.

  She pressed a fist to her mouth to hold back the noises he dragged out of her as she shattered under his touch again.

  Smug smirk lifting his lips, Wyatt stood. His frame still crowded her against the door, sparking electricity wherever their bodies touched.

  He wiped his hand across his mouth and then licked his skin. A pleased rumble filled the air, but it was the intense look he focused on her face that raised goose bumps up and down her arms.

  Anticipation hung in the air between them. Alanna lifted her chin to meet his heated gaze. She parted her lips and wet her lips.

  Wyatt burst into action and claimed her mouth in a punishing kiss. His arms gathered her close to his chest and worked her around and backward until her knees hit the bed. She tumbled, legs falling open as she bounced against the mattress.

  Wyatt’s eyes churned with silver and a low growl worked out of his throat. “Fuck, kitten. Spread like that, I want another taste.”

  Feverish delight danced down her spine. “Please,” she ground out. “Need you.”

  He kicked off his boots. His jeans dropped. He planted a knee between her thighs.

  Wyatt dragged a finger down her throat, between her breasts, and circled her belly button. He dropped over her, his lips finding the thrum of her heart beating in her neck.

  “Do you?” he asked, almost reverently. He pressed inside, inch by inch. “Need me?”

  Alanna threw her head back, totally lost in the overwhelming feeling of Wyatt in her, around her, worshipping her. “Yes,” she hissed.

  And then he moved.

  * * *

  Wyatt let out a sharp hiss when he pulled back. Fucking hell, she felt good. Too good. He wanted to power into her until they both collapsed in a blissed out heap.

  Her scent filled his nose. He could still taste her on his tongue. Fuck, how had he survived the long years without those in his life?

  He kissed down her throat, over her collarbones. She writhed underneath him, demanding more than he was giving her with slow, steady strokes designed to drive them both insane. He bent and licked a dusky nipple. He’d neglected those and needed to make up for it, but they’d been too hyped up to take things slow.

  Later. Later, he could draw things out. Lick every inch of her. Make her come until she was hoarse and couldn’t walk.

  Alanna’s dark eyes latched on his and her lower lip trembled. He crowded in and claimed her mouth, thrusting into her again and again. He swallowed her every moan, her sharp gasps, all the pleasure she whimpered against his tongue.

  It still wasn’t enough. Wouldn’t ever be enough.

  Her body hugged him tight as he dragged himself back, leaving only his tip nestled in her heat, then surged forward again. Each thrust frayed his control a little more, working with the sheer sight of her. A ragged moan left her lips as she arched her back. Her legs wrapped tightly around him, shaking as she clung to him, and met his bucking hips.

  Fucking hell. She was perfect.

  He reared up, holding himself upright on one hand.
The other he wrapped lightly around her throat. Her sharp intake of breath, her pupils blown wide, those were the signs he needed. His wolf howled at her submission. The feel of her under him, giving herself over to him, was enough to drive a man insane.

  Wyatt slammed into her harder. Faster. Her trembling, tightening body dragged groans from his chest.

  She peeled his hand from around her throat, but didn’t let him go. Her tongue swept from between her lips and dragged his thumb into her mouth.

  Wyatt nearly lost control. He rolled his eyes back at the twin pleasures. Her hot mouth worked his thumb, sucking and swirling until heat boiled down his spine. He thrust hard into her, burying himself to the hilt.

  “Fuck, kitten,” he snarled.

  His wolf thrashed in the back of his mind, trying to shove forward and take control. His fangs pressed against his gums. The beast wanted to mark her, claim her properly, show the entire fucking world she wouldn’t be stolen from them again.

  Wyatt yanked his hand from her and slammed it against the bed. The dark tips of sharp claws dug into the mattress by her head.

  He rocked back on his heels. His wolf still howled, his gums still ached, but he was out of danger of pressing his fangs into her skin. And holy hell, she looked even better spread out before him like a feast.

  He slammed back into her until she was gasping. Her nails dragged down his back and arms, nearly breaking the skin.

  Then she threw her head back and covered her mouth. His own harsh groan followed while her body throbbed around him, milking him until heat shot through his shaft and spilled into her. Wyatt thrust into her again and again, riding through her release until she wrung him dry.

  He fell over her, twisting so she sprawled across his chest instead of being crushed under his weight. His chest burned with the breaths he sucked down.

  “Fuck,” he growled. Soft hair tickled his side with Alanna’s fervent nod.

  The afterglow he wanted was cut short by three hard raps on the other side of the door. “What’s for dinner?” Atticus yelled.