Naomi and Tyler (Plenty of Shift Book 2) (6 page)

Naomi found a conditional happiness setting in as their relationship developed. Each night, before or after a long bout of nudity, they spoke at length about themselves, their lives, their desires. Her hopes to move away from Grayson City eventually to write in a small house in the country where her ferret could have some freedom to frolic in the woods; his desire to move away from the life of a bodyguard, and to work on a PhD in English Literature somewhere. She knew by now that he loved books and words; that he wanted to teach, and that somewhere inside his hard-as-steel body was a gentleness and a profound kindness.

He was everything she could have hoped for, amazing in every sense.

Except for one. He was still hiding things, still avoiding her questions. Each time she asked about something personal, he would find excuses to deflect. For the most part, though, she could see that he was trying. He told her about a few past, failed relationships. About his college years, in which he was mostly a loner who worked out a great deal, looking after his body while neglecting his emotional side. And he told her about the Lion Pride.

But questions about the time before his twentieth birthday were handily avoided for some reason that remained a mystery to her. Naomi had told him about her family and her childhood, but he avoided any such revelations about himself like the plague.

One night, Tyler found himself begin to open up. “My childhood wasn’t easy,” he said, his eyes avoiding hers in favour of staring at the floor. He could feel himself tighten under her gaze, even as he looked for the words that he wanted to utter. And when his eyes met hers, and he saw the look she was giving him—one of pure affection, of warmth and admiration, and everything he’d ever wanted, he stopped.

I can’t do it,
he thought.
I can’t. She’ll run.
And so he’d clammed up again, sealing his thoughts in as though letting them out would bring ruin and destruction to anything they touched.

I’ll give him time,
Naomi kept telling herself as she watched him hesitate over and over again, wondering if she should be so patient.
He just needs time.

She found in their moments apart that she thought of him constantly. There was no question that she was developing real, deep feelings for the lion shifter. And she wondered at times if he felt the same way. If he did, why the secrets? Why the avoidance?

It was on a Thursday evening after they’d made love for about the thousandth time that he turned to her, his face leaning on his hand, elbow firmly planted in her mattress. To date, they’d spent most of their time alone, and she hadn’t met his friends, nor he hers, other than Miri.

“Listen,” he said, his chest glistening from the exertion of what they’d just done. “The boss is having a little cocktail party tomorrow evening. I’ll only be there in an unofficial capacity, more or less—but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, since there have been new rumblings about the Wolf Pack. Would you be my date?”

“The Sovereign is having a cocktail party? Or is there some secret code that I’m misunderstanding, where in fact this is an orgy involving cocks and tails?”

“The former. He’s quite civilized, when he wants to be—which is to say rarely.”

Naomi pictured the man she’d seen the night of the gala, flanked as he’d been by young, beautiful women, all of whom apparently wanted to sleep with him. She was curious about him, though he didn’t appeal to her as a sexual object; more as potential inspiration for a character in a novel.

“I’ll join you. I like dressing up sometimes—wait, no I don’t. But I’ll do it for you.”

“I’ve noticed over time that you like getting
un
dressed. I much prefer that anyhow.”

In spite of herself, she found all of her blood seeming to rush to her clit, as though to remind her what ecstasy it had felt only a few minutes earlier—and what it could feel again if she had her way with him.

“I prefer having someone undress me,” she said. “Someone with a firm hand and a hard…resolve.”

“I’d undress you now, if you weren’t already naked. As for tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at seven. And you’d better meet me outside or I might not let you leave your apartment,” he said, pulling himself on top of her, his length pressing into her belly. His sexy smile was just about enough to drive her over the edge all on its own, but in combination with his incredible cock, she was enslaved.

“Outside it is,” she whispered. “I’ll try to wear something nice.”

“Cellophane would be nice on you. Or a towel. Or a see-through curtain.”

“Dirty, dirty lion. Now kiss me, lion.”

W
hen seven rolled
around the next evening, Naomi was standing outside the front door of the building, wondering if she should have asked if Tyler was driving a car or his motorcycle. Normally he showed up on his bike, but she wasn’t sure that he’d subject her to being a passenger, particularly when she was meant to look presentable.

Her question was answered a few minutes later, when he pulled up in a red sports car.

“Thank God,” she said as he got out to slip around and open her door.

“That happy to see me, are you?” he replied, grinning.

“That happy to see something with four wheels.”

“I thought we could take it slow.”

“Yes, that seems to be our style.”

He kissed her cheek, a gentleman in stark contrast to the animal that he could sometimes be, and opened the door for her. “You look beautiful,” he said.

“Thanks. So do you.”

Tyler was wearing a dark blue suit with a slight sheen to it, cut perfectly to show off his gorgeous frame. Underneath was a grey shirt and a dark tie that Naomi had the sudden urge to bite. What was it with the lion and her urges to sink her teeth into various parts of him and his clothing?

“So tell me about the Sovereign,” she said as they drove. “What’s his story?”

“Lucas? He’s actually a good man. Honest to a fault, if a little promiscuous.”

“So these women that he’s with—they know about each other?”

“No woman lasts more than a night with him. So they don’t need to. But yeah, if one asks, he tells. He has no secrets.”

“So the Pride likes him?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s popular. It’s the wolves that we worry about. Since they started screwing up Grizzly territory, we’ve just been waiting for their gang warfare to make its way into our district.”

“They need a new Alpha,” sighed Naomi. “Or the current one needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Agreed. But that’s not my job.”

“I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way.” She looked at him, studying his handsome profile: that square jaw. Something about it was so manly, so strong. And lion shifters’ jaws were more pronounced than those of other species. There was a nobility to them that oozed out their pores.

“I will always put myself in harm’s way, if it means protecting someone I care about.”

“And you care about your Sovereign.”

Tyler turned her way for a moment, the passing lights illuminating bright eyes. “I do,” he said. “He’s a good friend. I’m pleased that you’ll meet him, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. He and I have had a few chats about you.”

“Well, this is interesting. Dare I ask?”

“You’d probably be intelligent not to. But you’ll like him, as I think he already likes you. Just maybe don’t sleep with him.”

“I won’t. I’m a one lion kind of gal. When I commit, I commit.” With these words she was testing him, seeing if he would flinch at her declaration of monogamy. But he didn’t.

“I’m very happy to hear it,” he said, smiling. Slowly his right hand slipped over her thigh and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m a one ferret kind of guy.”

T
yler escorted
Naomi up the elevator to the penthouse, where large men were milling around with their dates. Some human women, thin, long-legged; others shifters, whose curves were generally more prominent.

“You okay?” he asked as he held her hand, leading her into the vast apartment.

“Never better,” she said, looking around at the expensive furnishings and attractive guests.

“Hey, Tyler!” The booming voice belonged to Lucas, who stood with a few guests by the broad doorway leading into the kitchen. Tyler escorted Naomi to his location and introduced them.

“I hear that you’re a writer,” Lucas said after giving her a firm handshake. “I’d love to read something that you’ve written.”

Naomi could see his allure. Like Tyler, he was built, powerful, muscular and incredibly handsome. She’d seen him at the gala but up close, she understood even better why he was constantly surrounded by women; he exuded a sort of powerful aura of sexuality. She questioned whether it was his status of the powerful lion that had made him like this, or simply a presence that couldn’t be defined. A sort of shifter It-factor.

His scent was the most stunning thing, though. It had a power to it, a musk that moved in silken tendrils about his presence. The sort of powerful stimulant that made a woman want to tear a man’s clothing off. And though Naomi had no intention of doing so, she wasn’t immune to his allure. He was an intoxicating force.

She leaned her body towards Tyler’s as she spoke, being sure to maintain contact. Something in the Sovereign made her want to stake further claim on her date.

“I’m not sure that the sort of thing I write would be your bag,” she said, laughing. “But you’re welcome to. I can give Tyler a copy of something, if you’d like.”

“Good. Say, Tyler, would you get us a couple of drinks?” he asked.

Naomi swallowed, not certain that she wanted to remain alone with the man. But Tyler gave her hand a brief squeeze and headed off, seeming to trust his Sovereign not to hit on his date.

“So listen,” said Lucas, speaking in hushed, intimate tones. “While we’re alone, I just wanted to tell you to look after our man. He’s not always the big strong shifter that he seems.”

“No? What is he?” asked Naomi, hoping to get some answers to the questions that had been lurking since she’d first laid eyes on Tyler.

“He’s a package that should have ‘Handle With Care’ stamped on his ass in red ink.”

“Why do you say that? He seems quite confident, really.” Naomi did her best to conceal the fact that she’d long suspected that Tyler had a deeply hidden side.

“A man like him
has
to seem confident because if he revealed all of his concerns, he’d seem weak. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Tyler is a strong man—the strongest I know. But in love, he’s not a risk-taker. He’d sooner hide his emotions from everyone than let a woman behind the curtain. Do you know that he’s never had a girlfriend in all the time I’ve known him?”

“Really?” asked Naomi, her eyes widening in genuine surprise.

“Really. But he likes you. A lot.”

“Again—really?”

“Yeah.” Lucas leaned in. “I think you could make him really happy. If you wanted to.”

“I think he could make me happy, too.”
If only he’d open up to me. If only he’d trust me.

Lucas pulled back, his charming grin genuine as he acknowledged the return of his bodyguard. “Good. Well, here’s to happiness.” With those words, he reached for the glass that Tyler was on the verge of handing over and gave it to Naomi, taking one for himself. They clinked.

“Cheers,” said Lucas. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go flirt with emotionally unavailable women.”

“Excellent.” Naomi turned to Tyler.

“What were you two chatting about so intimately?” he asked.

“He asked me if you look good naked.”

“And?”

“I said that I can’t remember, and that I needed a refresher.”

“That can be arranged.”

Chapter Eight

O
ver the course
of the evening, Naomi and Tyler spent a good deal of time alone, speaking in isolated corners. Occasionally their fingers would find ways to explore the surface of one another’s clothing, Tyler winning out by slipping the back of a hand over a breast, or “accidentally” sliding a finger over a hardening nipple.

“It’s hard being with you and not being able to get you naked,” he whispered to her.

“Agreed. But later we can be very, very naked.”

“Later can’t come soon enough.”

But Naomi knew that his focus wasn’t entirely on her as she watched his eyes move about the room, scanning for threats as he’d done at the gala.

“You’re keeping a vigilant eye open,” Naomi said at one point.

“You can tell, can you?”

“Your eyes wander. Normally on a date I’d assume that a guy was being a jackass and checking out other women but somehow I don’t think that’s the issue here.”

Her back was turned to the party goers, Tyler facing them. And she knew that he’d deliberately positioned himself in this way since their arrival. He leaned towards her ear.

“There are two men here,” he whispered. “Don’t look right now. They’re over by the long buffet table. Both wolf shifters. I’m trying to assess what they’re up to.”

“They weren’t invited?”

“No. Lucas would never invite members of an opposing group.”

“So why doesn’t someone kick them out?”

“Because we want to know their plan. Their Alpha is up to something, and it’s our job to figure out what. Those guys are harmless, unless they shift.”

“In which case?”

“In which case they’ll have some lions on their asses.”

“Lucky wolves.”

Tyler kissed her cheek before straightening himself. “You’ll have lion all over you later. In the meantime, I should do my job with apologies to you for not giving you all my attention.”

“It’s okay. Maybe later we could get to know each other. I mean more than what we know already—I want to understand what makes you tick.”

Tyler smiled, his hand on her waist as he looked into her eyes. “What, you don’t know enough about me? I’m a boring open book.”

“No, you’re not. There are a couple of chapters that are definitely closed, or at least hidden in a rare first edition.”

“Okay. What is it that you want to know?”

“Well, let’s see: Where did you grow up? What was your house like? How many siblings do you have? What are your parents like? These are things I would normally have found out on our first date.” Tyler tensed for a moment, his hand slipping off Naomi’s waist. His eyes were no longer on her face, but focused somewhere in the distance, as though he were assessing something.

At first she thought that maybe someone was behaving oddly across the room, and she spun around to look. “Are the wolves up to no good?” she asked quietly. Across the room she saw the men that he’d been speaking about, dressed in suits, their eyes scouring the room. She could see why he was concerned; they really did look menacing. But they weren’t actually doing much of anything, other than consuming Lucas’s hors d’oeuvres.

“No, they’re fine,” he said. Once again he smiled. Naomi was learning that when he flashed a particularly toothy grin, something was generally wrong. It was a sort of over-compensation, an expression used to mask whatever it was that he concealed constantly. “I grew up here in Grayson City. My house had everything but a white picket fence. I have no siblings.”

“Okay, you’ve answered almost all my questions. But what about your parents?”

The smile disappeared.
So—that’s the trigger,
she thought.
His parents are the topic that he avoids most of all.

“I—they—” he began. But before the sentence could be completed, he’d grabbed her arm and pushed her behind him, before tearing at his jacket. “Stay here,” he said.

Naomi’s back was against the wall and she watched as Tyler quickly tore his shirt away. In the distance the wolf shifters had cornered a couple of young women, who appeared panicked.

“What’s going on?” asked Naomi. “What are they doing?”

“Causing deliberate problems.”

They were the last words that he uttered before shifting. Across the room, the other bodyguard, Brock, did the same, the two large lions descending on two wolves who now stood in their shifted forms, their faces turned outwards as they let out low growls.

Tyler’s lion was larger than the other man’s, its mane tipped with black fur. His body was powerful and sleek, his muscles just as impressive as those on his human body. At one point he turned to look towards Naomi protectively, and she caught his light eyes, which had turned a shade of amber. Keen, alert, intelligent like the man himself. He was beautiful.

When Tyler had turned away again Naomi looked around for Lucas, who was nowhere to be seen. But a moment later, another lion came padding on enormous paws down a narrow hallway that led out of the living room. Immediately, as though prompted, Tyler and the other lion positioned themselves in front of him protectively, even though the Sovereign looked more than strong enough to defend himself.

The first wolf leapt at Lucas in spite of his strong line of defence, and it was Tyler who took it on, lunging upwards as the creature jumped. His paws grabbed at its body even as his teeth sank into its throat. A moment later the other wolf lunged, and the second guard and the Sovereign fought it together.

Naomi watched, fascinated more than horrified. Tyler was making quick work of the wolf, or maybe she would have worried about him. But the fact was that it was no competition. Whatever training he had; whether his boxing or animal instincts, he gave the impression that no one could defeat him.

Before two minutes had passed, the two wolves crouched, cowering, on the floor as a couple of Pride members brought the Sovereign a robe. He shifted, slipping into the garment quickly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Did Char—the Alpha—send you?”

Both wolves shifted. Unlike the man he was addressing, the one who spoke had no one present to cover his naked body. He grabbed his bloody neck before speaking, stifling the red flow, evidence of Tyler’s attack.

“Yes, the Alpha sent us,” he said, even as Tyler gnashed his teeth at him. “Jesus, man. I get it. You’ll bite me again if I’m not a good boy.”

“Did he want you to kill me?” asked Lucas.

“Kill you? No. If he’d wanted us to kill you we wouldn’t do it here.”

“So what does he want?”

The man looked at his accomplice, who shook his head slightly.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just follow orders.”

“Oh, so you’re just a loyal little soldier, then,” said Lucas. “How excellent for the Pack.”

“We don’t have a choice. He’s not the most reasonable—” He stopped himself before completing the thought.

“He’s an asshole, in other words,” said Lucas. “So why don’t your Pack mates do something about him?”

Both men clammed up, neither willing to respond.

“Fuck it. Tyler, get rid of them,” said the Sovereign. Escort them outside and tell security that no more fucking wolves are allowed in here. Ever.”

Tyler remained in lion form as he herded the two naked men to the penthouse’s elevator. Naomi watched the three slip together in after the doors had opened, one of the wolf shifters pressing a button, presumably for the first floor. She wandered over to the other guard, Brock, who’d shifted and dressed.

“You think he’ll be okay with two of them?” she asked.

“He’d be okay with eight of them. He’s a beast,” he said. “You’ve never seen him fight, I take it?”

“Never.”

“Well, I hope for your sake that you don’t. He’s got a lot of rage in him that needs a place to go. And usually it comes out in the form of punches.”

“Why’s he got rage?” she asked, feigning naiveté. Maybe Brock would explain it; he might be able to help her get to the bottom of the man’s complex personality.

“Oh, you know. Since he—” The man stopped himself. “Shit, I’m not supposed to talk about it. Forget I said anything.”

Well, this was interesting. Naomi found her stomach tying itself into knots. So there really
was
a secret that Tyler didn’t want to reveal. But what the hell was it, and would he ever tell her? It was all well and good to have fantastic sex, but she was on the verge of developing deep feelings for him. It wasn’t exactly a great idea to fall hard for a man who wasn’t willing to open up.

She grabbed a glass of champagne from a caterer who’d been ordered to make the rounds and to calm the general atmosphere of the party. Those present were accustomed to shifters and fights involving wolves had become commonplace in Grayson City, but this sort of thing hadn’t generally ventured inside people’s homes—particularly not that of the Sovereign of the Lion Pride.

When the elevator opened again, Tyler stood inside it, still in lion form and clearly unscathed. He’d done his duty, so he his way over to Naomi, who looked around for his clothing. His jacket and shirt were draped over a chair, but his pants weren’t exactly in great shape.

One of the Pride’s men approached, offering him a robe—the standard outfit for anyone coming off a shift.

“Thanks,” said Tyler as he tied it up. He stepped towards Naomi, who couldn’t help but smile, in spite of the concern that Brock’s words had set in place. Tyler was just so damned gorgeous, and she was just so damned smitten with him.

“What’s that grin about?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just—you’re naked under there.”

“I’m always naked under something.”

“Yes, but one pull of this belt,” she said, hooking fingers into the terrycloth, “and, well…”

“You know,” he said, moving towards her as the guests seemed to return completely to their revelry, “there are five bedrooms in this penthouse.”

“You don’t say?”

“I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you wanted to have a look.”

For a second she was tempted, a gentle throb between her legs reminding her just how much he turned her on. “God, that sounds good,” she said. “But you know, I’d like to continue with our conversation.”

“Our conversation?” he said.

“About your family. You were about to tell me about your parents.”

She watched him closely for a reaction. The last time she’d asked, he’d seemed to balk at the question.

“My parents are dead,” he snarled, his expression altering to something icy cold. “Excuse me. I’m going to check on Lucas.”

She reached for him as he stepped away, but too late. “Tyler…”

He was across the room before she’d taken a step.

Naomi was fairly certain that she’d never felt like such an ass in her life.

I
t was
several minutes before he returned, this time fully dressed. Before Naomi could speak he took her hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“Tyler, listen…”

He smiled. “It’s okay. My fault. I’m sorry, I have a hard time opening up sometimes.”

“Don’t you think that maybe you need to learn to open up to me? We’ve seen each other naked—a lot, considering that we haven’t exactly known one another for years.”

“It’s not so simple,” he said. “There are things about me—if you knew them—”

“Then what? I’d disown you?” She laughed for a moment, but soon realized that he wouldn’t join in her amusement. “You really think I would. You think I’d judge you.”

“Of course I do. And you would. You couldn’t help it.”

“Try me.”

His expression softened as he looked at her, and he leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. “Let me take you home, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I just want you. All of you.”

“Okay, but then we talk. Right?”

“Deal.”

He escorted her to his car, opening the door for her before circling around to the driver’s side. As he drove he took her hand, kissing it. But few words were spoken before they’d reached her building on the other side of town.

When Naomi opened the door to her apartment, she slipped inside, Tyler sliding in right behind her. And as if to avoid further risk of conversation, he pushed her once again towards the wall, immediately and aggressively pulling at her wrap dress. It took only a moment for his hands to work their way around her breasts, which he cupped, yanking her lace bra away from their surface.

“These,” he said, laying a tender kiss on each nipple, “Are beautiful. Perfect.”

Naomi hesitated for a moment before grabbing the sides of the dress and yanking them together. This wasn’t right. For weeks she’d been sleeping with a man who seemed content to remain a virtual stranger, and she needed more than that.

“Tyler,” she said, covering herself, “we have to talk.”

“Well, those are never good words to hear.” A smile had settled on his face, but Naomi knew by now that it was forced; the mask once again concealing what was going on inside him.

She stepped by him and began to pace restlessly next to the coffee table. “No—they’re never good words, but it’s not what you think. I just need to get to know you. It’s time, don’t you think?” Her steps ended abruptly and she made eye contact with him. “I need to know the man I’m sleeping with.”

He didn’t reply, though Naomi saw his hand move quickly towards the doorknob before he returned it to his side.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” she said, ignoring his brief attempt to escape. “How did they die?”

“Just like that? You just come out and ask without any hesitation?”

“It’s called directness. It’s how adults communicate. I’m not into games. When I asked you about them earlier, you ran away, and I want to know why.”

“Well, maybe it’s because I don’t like talking about it,” he said.

“Of course you don’t. Who would?” she said, approaching him. She put a hand out to touch him, but he pulled away. “What’s going on with you? Why can’t you tell me about this?” She felt hot tears well up in her eyes and fought them back. He was not to see her hurting. Not like this.

“Because it was the worst thing that ever happened to me,” he snapped. “Is that good enough?”

“No. Because you don’t trust me enough to open up, clearly.”

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