Dalton, Tymber - Doggy Tales [Doggy Tales] (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

Ivan winked at her then took a step forward, his gaze on the man still on the ground.

* * * *

Lindsey rolled over.
Holy fucking shit!
That
couldn’t
be a dog, could it? It looked like a…like a huge black wolf. With a generous dusting of silver throughout his coat and huge grey eyes, he stood over four feet tall at the shoulders.

Did he just
wink
at me?

She blinked, sure she imagined it. Stress, maybe even shock, who knew?

She wouldn’t question it. The dog, or wolf, had probably just saved her.

One of the attackers immediately ran. A second stood up and backed off, and the third rolled away from her.

“Lady, look, call off your fucking dog.”

She was too numb to talk. She loved dogs, but this wasn’t just a dog.

It took another step forward, eyes on the man on the ground, the one closest to her. She prayed the dog wouldn’t attack her, and she slowly crawled toward it. It was her bad luck these assholes jumped her, and freaky good luck this canine pony happened by.

As she drew closer to the black beast, it sidled around her, putting itself—himself, she suspected—between the remaining men and her.

Only then did she draw herself to her knees and saw one of the attackers had a knife.

“Be careful,” she whispered to the dog. It didn’t seem to have a collar and tags, but his thick fur could easily hide them.

Did it nod at her?

The guy still sitting stood up and backed away. That was when the dog viciously barked and lunged.

Mr. Knife wasn’t as brave as he looked. He ran, tripping and falling onto the knife. He screamed in pain.

Stupid fuck never learned not to run with scissors. Great.

“Aw, fuck!” his cowardly friend, Mr. Pantswetter, yelled.

Lindsey screamed. “Help! Rape! Help!”

* * * *

Ivan winced at her piercing cry, wishing he could tell her to put a sock in it. The braniac who fell on his own damn knife would need an ambulance, no doubt, but Ivan worried more about getting her to safety.

He backed into her and swung his head around to bump her. He felt her hands tangle in the dense fur at the scruff of his neck.

Ooh, long fingers. Strong fingers. Bet they’d feel good…

Crap, now he was sporting wood.

He sat in front of her, pressed against her, wishing she’d shut up. The second attacker, Sir Pissalot, looked at his writhing, bleeding friend, and ran.

Coward.

Five minutes later, two rangers raced down the trail, one leaning over the injured man. The other ranger dropped to one knee next to the woman, who’d blessedly stopped screaming now that the cavalry had shown up too fucking late.

“What happened?”

She sobbed, her arm circling Ivan’s neck. Despite her patina of fear she smelled…

Yum.

Fuck, and he’d almost softened again.

“I was jogging…and three of them…the other two…he had a knife and when the dog growled, he ran and tripped and fell on it…” She broke down in tears again.

Unable to help himself, Ivan licked her face, trying to comfort her.

Yeah, right, okay, so he wasn’t
just
trying to comfort her.

Jeremy would be totally pissed, but too fucking bad. This was more important.

“Is this your dog, ma’am?”

Ivan froze.
Oh, shit.

She stroked his fur. “Yes. Yes he is.”

Ivan heard her pulse quicken at the lie.

“You do know they’re supposed to be on a leash and have a collar and tags?”

The woman tensed. Ivan whined, praying she could lie convincingly. Holy fucking shit, now he had to depend on her, at least until Matlock and Barney Fife got their act together and stumbled out of eyeshot so he could run for his clothes.

“He slipped his collar.” She cradled Ivan’s head in her palms and met his gaze, winking. “Thank God he stayed with me.”

He couldn’t help it. He winked back.

* * * *

The rangers overlooked the uncollared dog considering she almost got raped. She stood just short enough she could tightly knot her fingers in Ivan’s fur at the scruff of his neck as the rangers escorted them to the parking lot.

She’d parked next to his truck. Could his day go any more to shit than it already had? He just wanted a fucking run. He knew he should have gotten a vehicle with a keypad entry. At least then he could get in his truck and go when no one noticed.

After an hour of questioning by the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office, she was free to go and Ivan learned her name was Lindsey Martinez. He had no choice but to jump into the backseat of her car when she opened the door and said, “Come on, boy.”

Thank God
. At least she hadn’t dubbed him something lame like Fido or Spot.

She lived in a one-story condo complex in Temple Terrace. Far from the worst neighborhood, but not the best. All the way home she glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

And daammnn, she smelled good. He had to fight not to drool.

He paid careful attention to the address. Jeremy would never let him live this down.

She opened the car door. He had no choice but to follow. To get to a phone he had to follow her, because he damn sure couldn’t shift into a naked guy in public.

Not that he minded following her. Especially when his nose sat right at ass level…

He accidentally bumped into her when she stopped at her front door.

She jumped. “Listen, buddy, we’ll get along fine if you don’t go sticking your nose up my hind end.” Then she smiled.

He looked up at her.
We’d get along a helluva lot better if you’d let me do just that.

His heart beat at an unsteady pace. Call Jeremy, yeah, that was what he had to do.

Umm, why?

Oh yeah. Work. He had to get to work.

He followed her inside her condo. Tidy, not fancy, some moving boxes stacked in her living room.

She rummaged in a kitchen cabinet and filled a bowl with water, knelt down onto the linoleum, and watched him drink.

She ran her hands over his body. He closed his eyes and gulped, wishing she wouldn’t do that and praying she wouldn’t stop. As her hands approached his rump, he jumped when she brushed against his balls. It took every ounce of will he had not to shift and fuck her silly right there on her kitchen floor.

Why’d she have to smell so damn good? Even with the last traces of bug spray she smelled right, smelled like—

Mate.

He looked at her.

“You are a boy. I thought so. Hard to tell with all that fur.” She cradled his head again, staring into his eyes. Hers were green, as he’d suspected, a beautiful shade of jade green he could lose himself in.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then broke down crying, throwing her arms around him, hugging him, burying her face in his fur.

He rested his chin on her shoulder. How could he leave her? He wanted to curl up in her lap and stay with her and lick every tear off her sweet flesh.

Mate.

Now that the word had pierced his conscious he couldn’t get it out of his brain. Every beat of his heart hammered it home.

Mate. My mate.
My
mate.

He’d never felt like this before. This wasn’t wanting a piece of ass. This was deeper, in his blood. In his soul.

When she sat back, he licked her face, whining.
Jesus, I love you, Lindsey.

She laughed. “I need to get a shower. Please don’t pee on anything, okay?” She petted his head and smiled. “We need to get you a collar and a nametag, but what am I going to call you?”

“Fuck me harder” works fine for me, babe.

“You’re not some stupid wussy dog. You need a good name, a strong name.” She braced her arms against him as she stood, wincing. “I’ll think about it. I think good in the shower.”

I bet you look good in the shower, too.

He curled up on the floor at the end of her bed and watched her strip. She threw the clothes away and stepped into the bathroom to start the water.

Mouthwatering didn’t begin to express what her appearance did to him. Her nipples tightened into hard peaks as the cool air hit them. Perfect, natural breasts that would comfortably fit in his palms as his fingers brushed over her.

He whined, his erection nearly painful.

She smiled. “Sorry, puppy. That’s illegal. Hope it’s enough for you to know you’re the only man in my life. You don’t have to share me.” Lindsey walked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

Believe me, honey, I’m not sharing you. Not on your fucking life.

Mate.
My
mate.

He stared through the bathroom door then reality called. He stood and streaked into the living room. Checking to make sure he was out of view of the bathroom, he shifted and grabbed the phone and called Jeremy. A glance at the clock showed it was almost noon.

He anxiously watched the bathroom door while Jeremy took his sweet fucking time answering his cell.

“Ivan? Why the hell aren’t you back yet?”

“Jer, shut the fuck up and listen. There’s been trouble.” Jeremy listened while Ivan detailed what happened.

“Where are you?”

He read off the address. “Temple Terrace.”

“I’ll be there in twenty to sneak you out of there.”

“No!”

“What?”

Ivan hesitated. “I want to stay.”

“
What?
Are you out of your freaking mind, Ivan?”

Ivan closed his eyes and whispered the words. “I’ve found her.”

“What do you…Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I need some time. I’m going to be out of touch for a few days.”

“Are you sure?”

He listened to her in the shower. Lindsey hummed, a light, tuneless melody that tattooed her voice across his soul. “Yeah, dude. I’m sure. She’s my mate.”

Jeremy sighed. “What do you need from me?”

“My truck’s still over at the park. And my clothes. She’s in the shower, but she’ll be done in a minute. I think she’s going to go to the store. Can you wait outside and run me over there after she leaves? I can be back before she returns. Just wait for me in the parking lot here, a few buildings away.”

“Don’t leave me sitting all day.”