Her Tiger To Take by Kat Simons Page A

shivering when
she licked him again.
    “Fuck,” he breathed.
    She sat up enough to look at him. “What?”
    “I want you again already. And you’re not
even in estrous.”
    He sounded so awed and appalled in equal
measure, she laughed. “Told you we had good chemistry.”
    His groaned laugh was a little pained.
“Combustible chemistry.”
    “I’m not near done with you yet,” she said.
“But I might need a few more minutes before we start again.”
    “God.” He held her tight and rolled her onto
her back. “You’re going to kill me, and I’ll die with a stupid grin
on my face.”
    “We’ll go together.”
    He kissed her, deep and gentle, but still
with the heat lurking just at the edge. She gave herself to the
kiss, forcing back any thoughts. She was too happy, too content to
think or consider their future. She’d worry about it tomorrow. Or
maybe the next day. For now, Nick was hers and she wanted to wallow
in the dream that this was their forever.
    When he pulled back suddenly and rolled out
of bed, she gasped. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. I want to feed you. Come on.” He
tugged her to her feet and took her to the bathroom so they could
clean up.
    His attention had her body humming again in
moments, but he didn’t give in to her wordless pleas. Instead, he
found clothes for her in the closet and actually dressed her—just a
shirt and jeans; no underwear or bra. She felt so sexy under his
ministrations she wasn’t about to argue. And the lack of underwear
would make it easier to strip and fuck him again at the soonest
possible moment.
    “Where are we going?” she asked as he held
his truck door for her. “The diner?”
    “My house. I want to cook for you in my
home.”
    Her heart jumped and her throat tightened.
She was lost. His. Completely and entirely. He was going to break
her heart. But in that moment, she decided the pain was worth it.
Nick was worth it.
     
     
     

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
     
    Nick let Tiana into his house and had to
fight a possessive growl of satisfaction at having her there. His . He couldn’t deny it anymore. He was completely lost to
her. Having her in his home, filling it with her scent, only
reinforced that sense of possessiveness. And resignation.
    “What would you like to eat?” he asked as he
took her coat and hung it on one of the hooks by his door.
    “Whatever you have is fine. Just no eggs.”
She wrinkled her nose.
    “I remember.” He grinned, feeling like a
love-struck fool, but not really caring. “I’ve got steaks?”
    “Meat! Perfect.”
    “Make yourself comfortable.” He motioned to
his living room. “You want something to drink?”
    “Water would be nice. Thanks.”
    As she wandered into his living room, he took
to the comfort of his kitchen. Cooking for her felt…intimate in a
way cooking had never felt before. Some soul-deep instinct drove
him to feed and care for her, make sure she was comfortable and
content.
    Thoughts of his father haunted him as he
pulled the meal together. He remembered his dad doing similar
things for his mother—cooking for her, making sure she was
comfortable, looking after her and spoiling her. To this day, Nick
still wasn’t sure how his father had missed his mother’s depression
when he seemed—to a nine-year-old boy anyway—so devoted and
attentive.
    Tiana is nothing like your mother , he
reminded himself.
    But he was oh so much like his father.
    He was about to call her in to eat when he
felt her come up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist
and leaned around him to look at the simple grilled steaks he had
resting.
    “Those look and smell delicious.”
    “You smell delicious.”
    She kissed his shoulder, her chuckle
vibrating against his skin. The sensation traveled straight to his
cock, but he wanted her fed first.
    They took their plates to his dining room
table, a place he usually reserved for paying bills, and chatted
about easy things: movies, cooking, her work, and the townspeople.
She