On The Prowl (A Steamy MMF Paranormal Tiger Shifter Menage Romance)

ON THE PROWL

(A Steamy MMF Paranormal Tiger Shifter Romance)

BY EVELYN GREY

COPYRIGHT 2015 EVELYN GREY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

ABOUT THIS STORY…

Tara Swift is a
curvy
woman suffering from a mid-life crisis. Still childless, and reeling from yet another failed relationship, she impulsively quits her job and decides to take a long hiking trip against the advice of her friends and family. The woods are a treacherous place, they warn her, especially for a lone woman.

Stubbornly and with a broken heart, she sets off, fearless of what danger lurks ahead. Little does she know, however, that her delicious curves are about to catch the eye of a tiger—or rather, in this case, two of them. 

Now, two sexy tigers are on the prowl for her luscious body, and a fight to the death looks to be the only way to settle this feud…

Or is it?

Tara’s determined she can convince them there’s another way...by letting them both take her hard, fast and without purr-tection AT THE SAME TIME!

ON THE PROWL

Everyone thought I was crazy when I decided to hike the Pacific Crest Trail from north to south. But sometimes, you just have to say
to hell with it all
and set out on an adventure.

Especially after a bad breakup, like the one I had recently went through with Robbie. I thought I finally found a real partner, a man whom I could trust and would treat me well. But he turned out to be just another cheater, and not even a month after he dumped me I happened to see him kissing a young woman at a bar.

After that, I had a lot of time to feel bad about myself—and seeing the crowds of happy young people downtown just added to my woes. I'd been a real stunner when I was younger, but now, well, not so much. My skinny figure had become fuller and curvier, more womanly. I didn’t mind the change; in fact, I embraced it, and loved how sexy and voluptuous I had become. Nevertheless, finding Robbie with a thin, cute young thing that looked half my age set off some doubts in my head. I wasn't twenty anymore, that was for sure.

After a miserable couple of weeks I realized I needed to do some soul searching. I quit my job in Seattle and went to visit my mother in Tucson for a bit. After spending a lot of time in solitude, and hiking the nearby mountains, I decided I was ready to get on with my life again.

And for better or for worse, I concluded that hiking the Pacific Crest Trail would not only be the best way to confront my failed-relationship demons, but also to take a step back and try to put into perspective who and what I was at nearly forty years of age. What better way to celebrate middle age than by taking a few months off to complete an epic hike along the West Coast?

Sounded perfect to me.

So why did everyone else think I was crazy? Every single one of my friends had tried to convince me not to do it; my mother was especially worried. But I had always been a stubborn one, and once I got a goal into my head, I followed through with it.

I sighed, setting up my hammock again after a long day on the trail. It was nice being alone and having time to think, but I hadn't seen a single other person on the trail for days, and I was getting lonely. Just having someone to talk to would be nice.

Of course, total solitude had its advantages as well. I pulled off my clothes and stuffed them into my hammock before ambling off to the nearby creek to bathe.

I found a cold pool and sank in all the way to my neck, inhaling sharply as I felt the cold water rushing over my skin. I lathered up and washed myself.

Then I suddenly stopped, my hands still soapy and tangled in my hair—my eye had caught something downstream from me: a tiger!  It had slowly emerged from the trees by the riverbank, and had paused at the edge of the water, dipping its snout down to drink.

Oh my God. It was the second time I had seen a tiger thus far, and I was frightened. It looked like a male—big and sleek and muscular, with a stripe of black hair running down the center of its back. His exquisite face was richly colored with long whiskers, and his eyes big, green and fierce. Then he began to transform.

I watched in astonishment as the beast in front of me began to shift and shrink, its hair retracting and disappearing into its body, its feline features disappearing. Within half a minute, a heavily-built, muscular man stood naked at the edge of the water.

I felt a shiver crawl down my chest. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

His hair was a dark brown-black, and his features were chiseled and rugged. His expression looked thoughtful and intelligent, but his bright green eyes nevertheless had a wild gleam to them.

I sucked in my breath as I watched him kneel on the riverbank, the sharply defined muscles of his body rippling as he moved. He bent forward and cupped his hands, dipping them in the water so he could drink from them. Then he washed his hair.

I kept staring. Now that I could see him from the front, he looked even more powerful and rugged. My heart raced as my burning eyes ran down his body yet again, and I gasped out loud when I felt a sharp twinge from my center. The handsome stranger's penis was long and thick, hanging between his thighs.

I kept spying, hidden behind a boulder. I watched as he washed his body, starting with his feet, and moving up to his powerful legs. I kept my eyes glued on him as he washed his sex, and then he plunged all the way into the rushing water. When he emerged, he let out a primal howl, a high scream that echoed through the canyon before dying away.

It sent a cold wave rushing through my body, and my heart began to pound. Then he disappeared into the thick woods.

****

I couldn't sleep that night, and my sleeping bag felt even more suffocating than usual. I was hot and horny, and it was all because I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen. Could it be real? After all, I'd been on the trail for a whole month already, and it felt like my sex drive, which had been raging during my last relationship, was still burning out of control.

But I didn't think I was so horny that I was hallucinating. Being on the trail could definitely do crazy things to your mind, and I had heard a few stories about hikers seeing things...but still. What I had seen was definitely real. The question was, could a tiger really turn into a man like that? Was that the part I had imagined? Moreover, what the hell was a tiger doing in the United States? They aren’t native to North America.

Whatever. The most important thing was that he had been so
hot.
I groaned as I thought about that powerful physique, huge penis, and the light in his sexy eyes.

With a final exhausted moan, I unzipped my sleeping bag and sprawled out in the cold night air, feeling wave after wave of heat leave my body.

And then I reached down and started to fuck myself, good and hard.

I rubbed my clit with two fingers, harder and harder until I came. I cried out, and then I plunged my fingers all the way inside, pushing hard against my spot as wave after wave of dirty pleasure overcame my flesh.

"Fuck me," I sobbed, talking as loud as I wanted. After all, I was all alone out here. "Fuck me hard, tiger man." And then a second later I came.

I heaved on top of my sleeping bag, my hammock bouncing, feeling the cold night air, so crisp and delicious against my skin. God how fucking good it felt to release! I had been so horny lately, and all it had taken to make me truly insane was seeing that beautiful, strange tiger man down by the river.

I wrapped myself up in my sleeping bag and fell into a blissful slumber.

****

I awoke the next morning with a start: I could hear the sound of a man’s voice mumbling not far off. I also made out the sounds of a stove hissing and something sizzling in a pan.

I got up and looked around. I sucked my breath in sharply when I caught sight of a tent hidden behind a thicket of bushes. Had the person or persons been there last night when I arrived? There was a good chance. The tent was just so well-concealed that I never saw it.

Could it possibly be…the stranger from yesterday?

My heart started to beat harder. I tied back my hair and rearranged my jacket, just in case it was my dreamy tiger man.  I felt cleaner and prettier than I usually did out on the trail, thanks to taking a bath yesterday.

I went through my usual morning routine, packing up my hammock and sleeping bag as my breakfast cooked.

Then suddenly I felt a hot flush of embarrassment. I just remembered: had my fellow camper (I was now certain he was the stranger I saw at the river) heard me screaming and moaning as I pleasured myself? Oh god.

Just as the pang of embarrassment was starting to fade, I heard footsteps coming down the trail from the direction of the campsite.

I knew this was going to be an awkward encounter.

Then the stranger emerged.  But sadly it wasn't the hot hunk of a man I had seen the previous day. The young man in front of me was skinnier, a wiry sort of build, with a dirty mop of blond hair and good-looking features, with inquisitive eyes.

"Hey," he greeted me boyishly.

I looked him over guardedly. He wasn't at all who I expected him to be. "Hey," I replied. I was crushed; I really wanted him to be the hot guy from yesterday.

"Want some bacon?"

"Uh, sure."  You can’t ever eat enough while hiking all day, and some extra fuel for the long miles ahead sounded wonderful. Besides, my mouth was already watering at the thought of something more savory than noodles and dehydrated space-food.

Speaking of being out for a long time...this guy really seemed like he had been hiking for months. Judging by the way his dirty hair was turning into dreadlocks, and his overall slovenly appearance, he'd crossed over from being a through-hiker into becoming some sort of hippy bum. Although I had to admit his body was fit and attractive, and he was good-looking; with a haircut and a shave, I'd have been all over him.

We arrived at his campsite, and there was a massive amount of bacon in a skillet, sizzling over an open fire.

"You're eating a lot of bacon," I observed warily. I had met my share of weirdos out on the trail, but this guy took the cake.

"I like bacon," he said simply, brushing the hair out of his eyes and giving me an awkward smile. This guy had clearly lost it. I'd have to start hiking early today, and put in some distance between me and this freak.  I'd been warned about people like him, the ones that never came out of the woods. Hopefully I could put in some hard miles today, and I'd never see him again.

I quickly ate a couple strips of bacon to mollify him, as he watched. Then I hurriedly said goodbye and wished him well on his journey, before jogging back down to my pack. I threw the hateful, heavy thing on my back and left, pushing myself to hike a faster pace than usual.

I stopped around one, for a late lunch, hoping to make it quick so I could hike a good amount before the sun went down. I found a nice spot, overlooking the valley and the trail, and set out my stuff on a large, flat boulder. I settled in and ate my lunch, before the warm sunshine on my body convinced me to strip off my shirt and lay face-down on the rock, soaking in the rays.

Just for ten minutes, I told myself. But a few minutes later I fell asleep.

I awoke with a start. How long had I been lying there? I hoped to put in some hard miles today after the incident this morning, but now I was blowing it.

I rolled over, blinking and groping for my shirt.

But it was gone!

How could my shirt be gone?!

I covered myself with my arm, in a panic. And then I discovered, with a sinking feeling, that my pack was gone as well. Oh my God. What was happening?

"Ma'am, are you alright?" I heard a voice coming from the trail. It was the hippy. Could I trust him? Or was he the one who had taken my stuff? With a sudden wave of panic I realized the latter was probably true.

"Stay away from me," I demanded. I looked around for a rock or a stick to use as a weapon.

"I just want to know if you're all right," he insisted, holding up a concerned hand. He peered inquisitively through the opening in the brush where the trail was, coming closer.