Authors: Danica Avet
His tiger purred, glad to have her where it wanted her most,
her scent filling his nose until it was all he could smell, her sweet, tart flavor
flooding his mouth and causing his taste buds to contract in delight. He began
to purr against her spread nether lips, his tongue searching out her cream
before he lapped at the taut bud of her clit. His dick pulsed with excitement,
but that was nothing compared to what happened when he felt her warm breath
wash across the sensitive tip.
He stroked one hand up her back, pushing her shirt until it
wadded beneath her armpits. Silky, warm skin, a beautiful woman sitting on his
face, her pussy giving him all the cream he could possibly eat and her little
mouth lapping at his dick. Had any man ever been so lucky?
Even when she awkwardly tongued his cock, her panting moans
vibrating along his length, it was better than anything he’d experienced with
any other woman. But once she caught on to this new position, the one that
would allow them both to tease and torment and race to completion, Zach knew
Colette was his perfect partner. She gave as good as she got, tortured him even
as he tortured her to the point she cried out against his dick, which in turn
made him groan and purr against her clit.
The back and forth, the give and take was what he’d always
wanted but never had. She wasn’t scared of not pleasing him, of not telling him
what she wanted. When she ground her pussy harder against his mouth, he took
his cue from her and scraped his teeth along her clit. Zach growled, the
tingling at the base of his spine warning him that his climax wouldn’t hold off
much longer.
He latched on to her clit, lashing it with his tongue even
as he slid his fingers into the tight clasp of her cunt, searching for the
rougher-textured spot. When he found it, Zach curved his fingers and rubbed. He
felt her orgasm, felt her inner muscles clench around him seconds before she
screamed. With his dick buried in her mouth. That scream, the vibration of
sound turned the tingle into a shudder as the pleasure in his dick shot up his
spine, lighting up every nerve ending along the way before it shot down to his
balls. Then he was coming in her sweet, hot mouth, jet after jet of seed
coating her tongue and the lovely, hard woman swallowed it all.
Minutes, or hours, later, Zach lifted his head from the
tabletop to see Colette’s thigh draped over his chest. Her cunt was still slick
from her arousal, her even breaths puffed across his flaccid cock and when he
shifted a little she let out a small groan. His back was killing him and he was
pretty sure his legs were dead, having been draped over the edge of the table
for so long, but none of that stopped the satisfied grin spreading across his
face.
They still hadn’t made it to her bed and the box of condoms
he’d placed right next to her vibrator. A glance at the clock showed dawn
wasn’t far off. He couldn’t be seen leaving her place, not if he wanted to
remain a tiger with skin intact. They wouldn’t be breaking open any of the
condoms tonight, but as he again picked up his protesting lover, carrying her
to bed yet again, Zach silently promised both of them he’d rectify that
situation as soon as possible.
He had to be out of his mind. For the twelfth time since he
left Maison Rouge, Zach told himself this was not his brightest idea ever. Yet
he didn’t turn around and drive back to civilization. He didn’t shrug and
consider her a loss. And despite the idiocy he’d been telling himself, he knew
with this seemingly simple act, he was putting Colette in a completely new
category.
After last night, he had to. Between his cat who’d been
reluctant to leave her house even though he’d marked it repeatedly, and his
dick, there was no denying that Colette was entirely different from the women
who normally shared his bed. He usually didn’t walk away from them with his
dick hard and his balls aching. Only with her. As if he didn’t realize she was
different, that she wasn’t his average one-night stand, his passenger was
further proof.
The Triple Decadence Chocolate cake he’d baked fresh that
very morning sat in a box on the seat next to him. He’d had to slow his Jeep
down to avoid sending chocolate perfection onto the floorboards. His tiger
purred happily. It couldn’t wait to see her again. This time though, he was
purposely doing it with her family around, because he wanted her to realize he
wanted her. The tiger wanted her to be proud of it, proud to know she’d caught
the attention of a predator of his caliber. The arrogant son of a bitch. But
there was no denying the cat wanted to prove to her and everyone else that she
was the one he wanted.
Okay, so maybe she hadn’t gotten that memo. She should’ve at
least awakened today and called him to thank him. Right? They had history.
Sexual history. He frowned at the road ahead. Unless she thought that was all
they had? Maybe she figured she’d gotten hers and she’d never see him again. He
snorted. That might have been the case with other females, but with her, things
were going in a completely different direction. Zach was still struggling to
come to grips with that, with the knowledge that he was actively pursuing one
woman.
Part of him realized even though he felt differently toward
her, it was just for sex and most likely wouldn’t last longer than a couple of
days, but he never chased after women. Never. Not even as a young cub with more
cum than brains. The girls came to him. Then the women. But Colette hadn’t called
him, or come to Maison Rouge today. He frowned at the bumpy road. Why hadn’t
she come to town to see him? Hadn’t what they’d done together on her sofa and
kitchen table been enough to hook her? What if she wasn’t as enthralled by
their lovemaking as he was? Now that was a scary thought, one that kept
circling his head and it made his tiger defensive and testy, not a good
combination when he was supposed to be a sea of calm for frantic brides and
their mothers.
So Zach had done something extreme and out of character. He’d
left the execution of tonight’s wedding reception in his kitchen assistant’s
hands. The look on Emily Doucet’s face had been priceless and if he hadn’t been
distracted by his tiger and his libido, he might have found it funny. The wedding
wasn’t big and it wasn’t going to be publicized like the other functions he’d
catered for, so he didn’t see what the big fucking deal was. He cringed a bit
at the bold-faced lie. Okay, so he was a control freak. It was what made Trahan
Catering a success. But he’d convinced himself that letting go of the reins a
little wouldn’t sink his business. He hoped.
It wasn’t as though he had any other option. The cat hadn’t
let him sleep after he left Colette’s house, yowling and grunting in his head,
wanting her. Fucking lovelorn feline. If Zach didn’t know better, he’d think
his other half was pining or something. It was ridiculous, of course. He’d only
seen her three times, two of which had involved weapons pointed at him. The
third time, her gun had been pointed at the floor, which he saw as a vast
improvement. His eyes almost drifted closed at the reminder of how she’d
welcomed his tongue and hands, how she’d tasted.
It’d been damn near impossible to make himself shower today.
He and the tiger had wanted Colette’s scent to remain on his skin all day long
as a reminder that he had brought her to climax so many times she fell asleep
on him. Twice. Only knowing others would smell her desire, might find pleasure
in her musk had been the deciding factor in him thoroughly cleaning himself
this morning. But he mourned that sweet scent, wanted to carry it in his pores
forever.
Zach scowled at his hands. No, not forever, he growled at
the tiger. The cat didn’t gainsay him this time.
Because right now, the big bastard was content. It knew they
were going to track down their errant human. It was aware of the flashes of
bodies in the trees, racing him down the road, but it didn’t care. Zach wasn’t
worried either. He knew it was Bayou Ange’s version of an early-warning system.
There was no telling if the kids—because the short, quick figures couldn’t be
anything else—had been playing in the woods around the community, or if they’d
been placed there purposely, but he knew by the time he found the street he was
looking for, everyone in Bayou Ange would know he was coming.
The word echoed around his mind, reminding him of the
explosive climax he’d had that emptied his cum into her mouth. His cock
strained against the fly of his jeans and he had to shift his legs to ease the
pressure. This whole being-hard-all-the-time thing was getting old. How was he
supposed to work with his dick aching like a toothache all fucking day? And all
it took was the reminder of what she’d looked like after he’d gorged himself on
her pussy, tasting her sweet cunt until she passed out for him to harden. Zach
groaned.
“Don’t think about it,” he muttered under his breath as he
saw a break in the trees ahead that signaled a change in scenery. “You’ll
probably have to face down her relatives and if you do that looking as though
you’ve got a solid lead pipe in your pants, they’ll know exactly what you want
with— Holy shit,” he whispered as he cleared the tree line.
The hair on the back of his neck lifted at the complete lack
of life to be found. There wasn’t a single soul in sight, which was unexpected
for a Saturday afternoon. Kids should be playing, people should be cutting
grass or cleaning cars, or loaded for bear waiting for him to arrive. He was
almost disappointed. For some reason, he’d imagined the entire community
forming a human wall across the street to prohibit him from entering, but while
he didn’t see a welcome mat, he didn’t feel as though they were telling him to
get out. It was anticlimactic to say the least, especially after the stories he’d
heard about this area when he was growing up.
He took a right on Robicheaux Lane and his jaw dropped. No
wonder he hadn’t seen anyone on the main street. They were all here. Waiting
for him. His foot eased off the accelerator and the Jeep slowed to a stop. Easily
two hundred adult humans and what looked like fifty million kids crowded the
base of one of the houses on the lane. A group of women of varying ages stood
on the porch above, but none of them were Colette. Two younger men stood guard
over an older woman. Both males had blond hair, darker than his human
obsession, but something in the shape of their faces reminded him of Colette.
The woman had darker skin and looked a lot like the kids in the pictures he’d
seen at Colette’s house.
Zach put the Jeep in park and turned off the engine. For
such a large crowd, it should have been loud, but deafening silence
occasionally punctuated by the engine cooling down was all he heard. Even the
children were quiet and watchful, speaking in such soft tones he couldn’t hear
them. The dogs that he’d worried about the night before didn’t make a sound
either, just sat watching him.
Then they all heard the distant roar of boat engines growing
progressively louder, coming closer. The older woman on the veranda waved for
Zach, beckoning him over. The others with her began arguing, their hands moving
as they tried to talk her out of it, but she continued motioning him to join
them.
He knew it was a bad idea. Getting out of the vehicle and
joining that family on the porch, most of whom didn’t appear to want him there,
would not really endear him to Colette. But the older woman had to be her
mother, the woman who’d sent her family into town to get a cake for her. He
glanced over at the Triple Decadence Chocolate cake he’d originally intended to
sweeten up his human and knew exactly how to play this.
* * * * *
Colette ached all over, but it was a good kind of hurt. It’d
been a productive day of hunting. The sun beat down on her, burning her skin
and warming her soul. If things continued the way they had today, they could
have their tags filled in no time at all. She glanced at her dad, who had a
tired but happy smile on his face. Uncle Frog rode with Beau in one boat, while
Uncle Tudu ferried Cotton in another to either side of Colette and her dad.
Everyone had the same relaxed, pleased look on their faces. They’d done good
work, taking on a ridiculous number of tags that spanned nearly the entire
Bayou Ange community.
The next three days they would push hard, catching as many gators
as they could before they slowed the pace a little and hit the much more remote
areas. They’d begin staggering the boats, leaving one out of circulation for
the day, allowing each of them a day or two off a week. From the boats at
least. Their days off would be spent working the swamp tours, but it was easier
work than hauling gators into the boat. Today had been her younger brothers’
day at the office and tomorrow was hers. Colette faced front again, closing her
eyes against the wind. If she was completely honest, she usually looked forward
to her days at the office, using it as a break.
Not so much now. Not after Zach had come into her house
and…what had he done? Tormented her to the point she fainted and fell asleep?
Twice? Then put her to bed without fucking her, again, leaving her to wake up
alone and disoriented. She hadn’t known if the night before had been a dream or
not. Not until she dragged herself downstairs to meet up with her family and
saw the mess the wolf and the tiger had made of her crab traps. And seen the
mass of claw marks on each wooden support holding up her house.
“What’s goin’ on?” Uncle Tudu shouted over the roaring
engines, causing her to open her eyes again.
The boats slowed as they neared the dock. She forgot about
the night before and Zach as she realized nearly all of Bayou Ange was crowded
around her parents’ house. Her heart leapt into her throat as an almost
crippling panic crept over her. She didn’t dare glance back at her dad, knowing
he had to be just as freaked out as she was and if she saw the same fear in his
face that she felt, she’d break. Just break. She popped her phone out of the
holster on her hip, flipping it open. No missed calls. Her brothers would’ve
called her if something had happened to their mama. There was no question about
that.
Several distant cousins ran forward to grab the lines she
and her cousins threw out, tying the boats up to the dock. Colette was out of
her ride before it came to a complete stop, the stomp of boots behind her
letting her know her dad wasn’t far behind. The crowd of cousins and friends
and very distant relatives parted for them as she and her dad ran for the
house. The confused looks on the faces of those around them helped calm some of
her panic. If it had been something bad, there would be tears, prayers,
something. She didn’t see any of that, but she did glimpse a strange SUV parked
in front of the house.
The sight of that vehicle slowed her momentum, bringing her
back to hurry along with her dad. “Is it a game warden?” she asked him under
her breath.
All day long she’d had the weird feeling they were being
watched. Not as a group because her cousins would’ve said something, but her
specifically. She hadn’t seen any evidence to support her belief, but there was
no mistaking that itch between her shoulder blades. It was the same feeling she
got when she was on the wrong side of a feral pig or an alligator that was
waiting for the perfect moment to snap. It spoke of danger.
“I don’t know,” her dad said in a low tone. “Don’t look like
a state vehicle.”
And the worry that the game wardens would bust in their
house to look for something against them wasn’t unfounded. Game wardens were
the only authorities who could enter a private home without a search warrant.
The people of Bayou Ange had been the victims of more than one random search.
Sure, some of those searches had been the result of probable cause. Usually
everyone obeyed and followed the state’s regulations for hunting and fishing,
but sometimes someone tried to slip one more fish, or one more buck under the
radar. Colette didn’t and she knew her dad and uncles didn’t either, but it
didn’t stop the fear of being searched.
They pounded up the steps side-by-side where they could
finally hear voices raised in argument. They were shouting too loudly for her
to understand their words, but she recognized her brothers’ bellows. Beneath
their shouts was her mother’s smooth, lyrical voice that intertwined with a
much deeper, gravelly masculine voice she didn’t want to recognize. A peek out
the corner of her eye showed her dad’s scowl deepening, the Robicheaux jealousy
rearing its ugly head.
Then she caught the scent of food. Her stomach growled,
completely insensitive to the trouble that might be waiting for them in her
parents’ house. It only knew the three sandwiches she’d had three hours ago may
as well have been consumed yesterday by how hungry she was. She tried not to
recall the midnight breakfast she’d consumed while sitting on a naked man’s lap
because that caused a hunger of an entirely different variety. Her stomach
yowled again. Colette slapped a hand to her abdomen as though that would muffle
the sound, but there was no mistaking the scent of her mama’s red beans and
pork chops. Her mouth watered.