tiger… It’d been beautiful. “And I took a picture to send to Ronnie because I was pissed that she’d lied to me.”
That had been a big bitch fight.
“About what?”
“She said wolves, bears, and lions were the extent of shifter kind.”
“They’re the only ones who were ready to come out.”
“Yeah,” she drawled. “I figured that out.”
“So how’d we end up in the paper?”
“My editor,” she spat out the words. “My phone… I’m an idiot. I get that. I didn’t realize my work phone was subject to search. That my boss actually monitored what I did with the thing. He read my texts and viewed those couple of pics and ran with it. I didn’t realize what he’d done until the story hit the stands.”
Then it’d been too late.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, regret clogging her throat.
Warm, firm hands stroked her, drifting over her body in a comforting caress. “You have no reason to be sorry,” he murmured. “Your editor has a reason to fear for his life, but you have no reason to be sorry.”
“You believe me?” It was a worry she’d carried from the second she left her house.
“Baby, you can’t lie to me. You can’t lie to my nose.”
“Oh.” Right. She’d forgotten about that. She wasn’t sure why that’d slipped her mind. She should know from her time spent with Ronnie’s werewolf family. They could sniff out—literally—an untruth a mile away. Lying did not happen around the Barringtons. Ever. (Which totally ruined their every attempt to get something over on the adults.)
“But no matter what, scent or not, I trust you. My cat trusts you. If you say you weren’t involved, then you weren’t involved. All we can do is recover and move on.”
Zoe chuckled. “It sounds so easy.”
“That’s because it is.” He nuzzled the top of her head, his grip tightening. “Wanna know what step one is?”
“Sure.”
She found herself suddenly flipped to her back, a nude tiger shifter kneeling between her spread thighs. Ares retained his human shape, but his tiger peeked out through his eyes, and he licked his lips. “Step one is tasting you.”
“Yes.” That sounded like a wonderful idea. All kinds of wonderful.
Zoe’s nipples pebbled, breasts suddenly aching with the need to be touched and stroked. She couldn’t stop herself from cupping her mounds and tugging on the hard nubbins. His gaze remained locked on her as she caressed herself, but his hands were busy.
He reached for her legs, fingers skimming her calves, then knees, to her outer thighs. Goose bumps followed in his wake, her skin sensitized to his touch. They’d only spent two weeks together, but her body was attuned to his, and she craved him. Craved every brush of his fingers and press of his lips.
A slow burn blossomed within her, her body preparing for the pleasure of what was to come. Her pussy warmed, aching for his fingers, his mouth, his cock. She grew wet, her sheath preparing to accept him, take him within her and snatch every hint of pleasure he gifted her.
All this with only a heated look and the gentle glide of his hands on her legs.
He continued reaching higher on her thighs, not stopping until his thumbs brushed the lips of her sex. There he drew small circles on her flesh, so close to where she desired him most, yet too far away to give her pleasure. He stroked her, sliding up and then down, tormenting her with what could be.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his gaze flicking from the juncture of her thighs to her eyes and back again.
“Tell you what?” Her hips twitched, body aching for more from him.
“You know.”
She did know. She’d fallen into bed with him, her body craving his, but the words he craved came later. The day before she’d left him to return home, their relationship’s future unresolved, he’d asked for the words.
And she’d given them. They were just as true today as they were mere days ago. “I’m yours.”
He purred, the rumbles traveling from
That had been a big bitch fight.
“About what?”
“She said wolves, bears, and lions were the extent of shifter kind.”
“They’re the only ones who were ready to come out.”
“Yeah,” she drawled. “I figured that out.”
“So how’d we end up in the paper?”
“My editor,” she spat out the words. “My phone… I’m an idiot. I get that. I didn’t realize my work phone was subject to search. That my boss actually monitored what I did with the thing. He read my texts and viewed those couple of pics and ran with it. I didn’t realize what he’d done until the story hit the stands.”
Then it’d been too late.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, regret clogging her throat.
Warm, firm hands stroked her, drifting over her body in a comforting caress. “You have no reason to be sorry,” he murmured. “Your editor has a reason to fear for his life, but you have no reason to be sorry.”
“You believe me?” It was a worry she’d carried from the second she left her house.
“Baby, you can’t lie to me. You can’t lie to my nose.”
“Oh.” Right. She’d forgotten about that. She wasn’t sure why that’d slipped her mind. She should know from her time spent with Ronnie’s werewolf family. They could sniff out—literally—an untruth a mile away. Lying did not happen around the Barringtons. Ever. (Which totally ruined their every attempt to get something over on the adults.)
“But no matter what, scent or not, I trust you. My cat trusts you. If you say you weren’t involved, then you weren’t involved. All we can do is recover and move on.”
Zoe chuckled. “It sounds so easy.”
“That’s because it is.” He nuzzled the top of her head, his grip tightening. “Wanna know what step one is?”
“Sure.”
She found herself suddenly flipped to her back, a nude tiger shifter kneeling between her spread thighs. Ares retained his human shape, but his tiger peeked out through his eyes, and he licked his lips. “Step one is tasting you.”
“Yes.” That sounded like a wonderful idea. All kinds of wonderful.
Zoe’s nipples pebbled, breasts suddenly aching with the need to be touched and stroked. She couldn’t stop herself from cupping her mounds and tugging on the hard nubbins. His gaze remained locked on her as she caressed herself, but his hands were busy.
He reached for her legs, fingers skimming her calves, then knees, to her outer thighs. Goose bumps followed in his wake, her skin sensitized to his touch. They’d only spent two weeks together, but her body was attuned to his, and she craved him. Craved every brush of his fingers and press of his lips.
A slow burn blossomed within her, her body preparing for the pleasure of what was to come. Her pussy warmed, aching for his fingers, his mouth, his cock. She grew wet, her sheath preparing to accept him, take him within her and snatch every hint of pleasure he gifted her.
All this with only a heated look and the gentle glide of his hands on her legs.
He continued reaching higher on her thighs, not stopping until his thumbs brushed the lips of her sex. There he drew small circles on her flesh, so close to where she desired him most, yet too far away to give her pleasure. He stroked her, sliding up and then down, tormenting her with what could be.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his gaze flicking from the juncture of her thighs to her eyes and back again.
“Tell you what?” Her hips twitched, body aching for more from him.
“You know.”
She did know. She’d fallen into bed with him, her body craving his, but the words he craved came later. The day before she’d left him to return home, their relationship’s future unresolved, he’d asked for the words.
And she’d given them. They were just as true today as they were mere days ago. “I’m yours.”
He purred, the rumbles traveling from
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