Wicked As He Comes: BBW Tiger Shifter Paranormal Romance (Tiger In Her Bed Book 3) (8 page)

”Oh, John. . .”

Her skin was warm. Too warm, as if she was also burning from the inside out. He felt for her thighs and pushed them wider apart. He stroked her neatly trimmed pubic hair, and slid down to her slicked folds. She was wet—just the way he liked it. He slid a finger into her and her eyes widened instantly.

Then a second finger.

He finger-fucked her until she looked frustrated enough to come. But he wouldn’t let her climax. No, not yet. Her pussy clenched his digits tightly. He brushed her clit with his thumb and continued stroking her with steady beats. He curled his fingers upward, rubbing the special spot that made any woman purr like kitten. She thrashed, clenching the sheets. He quickened the pace until she couldn’t take it anymore.

Then she came hard, her long limbs twisting, face a mask of ecstasy.

She looked so goddamn beautiful, he had to kiss her. First on the mouth. Second on her pussy. She yelped in surprise, then moaned long with her sexy, husky voice. Her scent drove him closer to madness, and his own beast threatened to claw out.

With a yearning grunt, he licked and nipped, deeper and deeper until she screamed as she came. Her body quaked as pleasure raked through her.

His beautiful bride still looked dazed when he got up and kicked his shoes off. He shed the rest of his clothing and Jane stared at his cock with fervent hunger in her eyes. He stroked the length of himself and positioned himself at her pussy. He kissed her as he penetrated her. She instinctively wound her arms around his neck, welcoming him with delight. He pressed his belly against hers and his chest grazed against her hard nipples.

She was hot, incredibly wet, and tight.

It was heaven.

Her pussy clenched his shaft as he started to move. “God,” he hissed through his teeth.
So. Fucking. Good.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair as she sheathed the length of him.

She gasped. “John…”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and temples. “You okay?” he grunted his words. He couldn’t hold back his urge to ravish her any longer.

“I’m okay,” she said breathlessly. “It’s just… I’m so fucking full.”

“Hmm. You can take all of me. You’re mine.” He withdrew an inch and pushed back in again, balls deep. “Say it.”

“I…”

“Say that you’re mine.” Withdrew. Pushed.

“I… I’m yours.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours, John.”

“Damn right, you are.” He thrust into her to his hilt. She gasped. He unwound her arms from his neck and pushed them above her head, pinning them with his weight. He wanted her to surrender, completely helpless before him.

She writhed, her big doe eyes never leaving him, her lips parted open. So fucking sexy.

He started rocking against her with shallow jabs. She moved with him. The thick pleasure made him lose his mind. His instinct slowly took over. He fucked her with steady thrusts.

“Oh John,” she gasped. “Harder…”

He growled like an animal; he couldn’t believe what he heard. He was only too happy to oblige her. Whatever she needed, he’d deliver.

“John… Oh God, yes.”

She cried in ecstasy. The sight of her in the throes of pleasure, the way she felt, the intoxicating scent of her, drove him wild. He thrust faster. Hard. Merciless. God, he loved having her like this. She was like no other woman he’d been with. Mating with her possessed his entire body and soul. He hammered his cock into her, branding her with his lust, over and over and over…

Her orgasm came suddenly. She whimpered a quiet scream as her body stretched out, her head whipped backward, and her pussy gripped him tightly.

He clenched his jaw and kept fucking her, without even a pause. She gasped and moaned and writhed and grunted. She begged him to slow down, but then she wanted it fast and hard.

Minx.

While she was catching her breath, he paused. He withdrew from her and flipped her on her stomach. Seconds later, he fucked her again without missing a beat.

“J-John!”

He growled in return. He nuzzled behind her ear as he pounded into her faster and faster. He pushed away locks of hair from her neck. As their pleasure climbed higher and higher, he licked a patch of skin on her shoulder. His incisors lengthened. He sank his fangs in to her flesh with a hard thrust, claiming her as his mate. She didn’t seem to even feel it. He pounded one, two, three times, and climaxed.

Fuck
!

He licked the blood on her shoulder as he emptied his cum into her. The wounds gradually closed; blood coagulated. Confident that she wasn’t bleeding anymore, he pulled out from her, trailing milky cream on her luscious ass.

She rolled on her back, flashing a tired smile. Perspiration swathed her skin, and her hair was a mess, but he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her.

His
.

She was his now.

She pulled him down and kissed him. “That… was amazing.”

“No, you’re amazing.” He stroked her hair, glancing at his mark on her. It would be healed within a day or two, but the bond between them would last until death. He was lucky. The claiming part was easy, unlike his brothers with their mates. “Tired?” he asked solicitously.

She shook her head.

“Good,” he whispered. He figured he’d let her rest a moment, then he’d take her again. Maybe he’d use his ropes, or the handcuffs. He had asked for special amenities from the concierge.
Fuck.
Thinking about it made him hard instantly. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“It won’t be a surprise if I tell you, will it?”

Four

Originally, they planned to stay overnight at the Plaza, but when Jane couldn’t get in touch with the twins in the evening, they decided to check out and go home. Savannah took them out shopping that morning, but she said they’d be back by the afternoon. It wasn’t like her not to tell anyone if she was going to be late. Susan, the live-in housekeeper, said that his mother hadn’t left a message at the house. And her phone went unanswered when he tried to call her earlier.

The housekeeper opened up the apartment door for them.

“Is she home yet?” John asked

“No, sir. Not yet.”

“Maybe she’s visiting Mrs. Halston and forgot the time?” he speculated. His mother liked to play mahjong with other bored socialite housewives. They even formed a little club.

“Madam would have told me if she was going to be late.”

“True.”

Jane joined him in the hallway. “Maybe your mom took them to a long lunch and a matinee or something.”

“She’d have called or texted us. She always scolded us about that when we were kids.” John frowned. “You know what? I think she’s been radio silent since this afternoon. I haven’t heard from her all day.”

“Does she text you a lot during the day?”

“You kidding? She texts me at least a dozen times a day. Even when I’m not in New York. She uses text messages like a Twitter feed.
I’m having breakfast. I’m in the salon. I bought a new painting
.” John pursed his lips for a moment thoughtfully before his cellphone went off. Trent’s name lit up on the screen.

“Hey, Trent, what’s up?” John answered.

“John? Hey, is Mom around?”

“Not right now, she’s out. Why?”

“Had a question about, well, some pregnancy issues. Long story. Arielle hasn’t felt well since this morning. Anyway, know when she’ll be back? I’ve been trying to get a hold of her for a while now, but she hasn’t answered my calls or texts.”

John grew still, and a very bad feeling crept up his spine. He and his wife exchanged a look, and he watched her face grow pale as she gleaned what he was feeling.

“John? You there?” Trent called.

    “Yeah,” he said finally, “hey, do you think you could come meet us at the house? We might have a situation here.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Trent’s voice responded, this time more serious. “I’m on my way.”

John called up Quinn and his mate Vanessa, too. Quinn was the alpha of the clan and any decisions regarding their family would be his to make. He wouldn’t take an emergency family meeting lightly. Acting with the instinct and urgency the situation demanded, all three brothers were gathered in the apartment in a matter of fifteen minutes.

“So what’s going on, John?” Trent asked after everyone had settled in. Quinn watched them silently. His eyes piercing.

“Mom is missing. The twins too,” John dropped the bomb. “They’re supposed to be shopping, but we can’t get a hold of them. The last time we heard from Mom was around one-thirty in the afternoon. She said they were having lunch at Babbo, I think. And you know Mom, she likes making her shopping trips a day long affair. She promised to take the twins to the Toys R’ Us on Broadway after lunch.”

Quinn’s expression hardened.

“Did you call the police?” asked Trent.

“No. I thought we should talk it out first,” said John.

“Don’t the police usually want us to wait twenty-four hours before declaring someone a missing person?” said Trent.

“Not necessarily,” said Quinn. “Especially when minors are involved. I personally know the Deputy Inspector at One PP. He’d gladly help in a time like this. I’d preferably hold it off for a few hours. We should try to locate mom first, considering…” He cleared his throat, “…our
delicate
family situation. Mom wouldn’t be happy if her name showed up in gossip rags.”

“Can we trace her phone location?” John turned to Vanessa, the computer genius in the family.

“Say no more, John. I’m on it.” Vanessa grabbed her laptop and got to work. She never went anywhere without her computer. Her fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Do you have any idea who might want to hurt mom?” asked Quinn.

“It’s all my fault,” Jane was in the verge of tears. “If I hadn’t bla—”

John silenced her before she could say another word. This wasn’t the time to bring that up. “What she meant is that mom isn’t the intended target. It’s the twins, and mom happens to be with them.”

“Don’t tell me Alfred Benedict has something to do with this?” Quinn guessed.

“I’m afraid so.” John pulled his wife into his arm, consoling her. “I think he feels threatened after that dinner party.”

“That man is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he?” Trent mused. “To think he’d go to this extreme. Kidnapping the twins.”

“He’s desperate. Desperate men often do stupid things,” said Quinn. He looked at his wife’s progress over her shoulder. “How’s the tracking going?”

“Few more minutes. I just got into your mom’s phone provider’s system,” she replied without pause.

John caught Jane’s questioning gaze and felt compelled to explain what they do to her. “Vanessa can hack in to any system like it’s nothing. It’s faster this way than going through the proper channels. Time is of the essence. The sooner we can locate mom’s phone, the sooner we get our answer.”

Jane pulled up a chair and settled in with her hands folded on her lap, looking absolutely distraught. John hated to see her like this. Lost. Like a poor little lamb.

Three minutes later, Vanessa came up with the location of Savannah’s phone. Quinn and Trent crowded her, peering at the screen.

“I know that place,” said Trent. “Mom wouldn’t go to that area to shop, that’s for damn sure. This isn’t like her.”

“And not just that,” said Vanessa. “I’m able to pull the activity log. It seems like Mom’s phone hasn’t moved in hours.”

John narrowed his eyes. “You think mom was taken somewhere else? Either that or she is having an extremely long lunch.”

“With the twins?” Jane shook her head. “Harry can’t sit still for a minute. A long lunch like that would drive him crazy. He’s a hyperactive boy. He’s like an ADD kid on a sugar binge.”

Quinn took it all in and made his decision. “Let’s go to that location and find them. Trent and Vanessa—you go with me. John, you and Jane take another car. Maybe take mom’s SUV in case we need to…” his gaze flitted to Jane. “You know.”

“She is enlightened, don’t worry,” John explained.

“Great, then. Let’s bounce,” said Trent.

*  *  *

They found Savannah’s Mercedes in Greenpoint, parked in front of a dilapidated warehouse between Milton and West Street. Vanessa confirmed Savannah’s cellphone location; the device was on. John and Quinn checked the car, and the others followed. No one in the Mercedes. It seemed it had been abandoned. The engine was cool to the touch. The car had been left in place for a few hours.

The Mercedes’ doors were locked. Trent smashed the window of the driver seat and unlocked it. Quinn examined the backseat and John opened up the trunk.

Quinn found their mom’s phone hidden beneath the seat. It had a big crack on the surface as if it had been thrown down recklessly. He sniffed it to get a lock on the scent. “Mom was taken against her will, all right,” he declared. “Find anything in the trunk, John?”

“Shopping bags filled with stuff. Clothing. Shoes.  Nothing stolen, so my guess is this isn’t a robbery,” said John. He turned to see his wife looking ashen.

“I can only think of one person who would do this. Uncle Alfred.” Jane wrung her hands, panicking. “That bastard wants to hurt the twins, but your mom’s in the way. I just know it. We should call the cops. Now. Before it’s too late.”

John calmed her. “We’ll get them, don’t worry.”

Vanessa hugged distressed Jane, patting her back. “Trent’s a great tracker. We can find your brothers long before the cops will.”

Quinn handed Trent Savannah’s phone.

“I know mom’s scent,” said Trent. He scanned his surroundings carefully before peeling off his clothes.

“I’ll come with you,” said John, following his brother’s lead.

“What are you doing?” Jane looked confused, but a moment later she understood what he and his brother were about to do.

Luckily, the street lamp where they found Savannah’s car didn’t work. If people happened to look in their direction, it would be too dark for most to see what was about to take place.

John released the beast within him.

He could feel Jane’s eyes on him as fur rippled down his body, and his limbs expanded into the even more muscular, sinuous appendages of a tiger. His eyes flashed yellow, and his face gave way to the great cat’s. He turned to regard her, looking regal and predatory all at the same time. John knew the effect tigers had on humans. But there was something in Jane’s awed expression that was different. He sniffed the air and smelled her fear, but she was able to hold her ground without hesitation.

Quinn told Vanessa and Jane to follow the tigers. He himself tailed behind. No sooner had the ignition turned on then they were off, slinking through the night.

John moved like a shadow alongside Trent. They didn’t have to go far. They tracked their mother’ scent and the twins to what seemed to be basement doors around the side of a building.

Behind them, Quinn and Vanessa stopped their cars and followed John and Trent.

Trent, in his beast form, glanced at John with his yellow eyes and scratched the door.
Mom and the kids are in this building. Should we look for another entrance so we don’t alert that bastard?

Nah. I don’t care. Let him know we’re coming. Let’s tear this door down,
replied John.

Fine with me.
Trent rammed the door with his bulk.

John did the same until the hinges gave away and the whole door fell back, landing on the floor with a deafening crash.

The scent of his mother and the kids got stronger. John growled. The deep rumble from his throat reverberated in the small enclosure. There were narrow stairs that lead to a lower level. They wasted no time and barreled down into what seemed to be an abandoned meat processing warehouse. The tiled walls were dingy, and the air smelled wet and moldy. Trent rammed through another door and was greeted with a startling scream. John followed him.

What he saw almost made him lose control.

It looked like a nightmarish scene from
Dexter
. The place Alfred used to hold his mother and the twins was covered in sheets of plastic from the ceiling to the floor; Alfred Benedict’s personal kill room.

Trent had the bastard beneath his mighty paw, dazed and cowering.

Then, there was Savannah, laid out on the work table, naked, wrapped in cellophane while the twins were gagged, handcuffed to a pipe at the far end of the room. John let

out a deep roar that shook the room, furious. He checked his mother first. She seemed to have been sedated. Next, John quickly ran over to the kids and partially shifted to try and free them.

Harry’s eyes widened, but he didn’t seem scared. “Cool,” he said after John removed his gag. “Are you a superhero?”

George didn’t say anything.

Quinn, Vanessa, and Jane burst into the room. Jane quickly rushed to the twins, in tears. “Are you okay George? Harry? Thank God.”

Trent kept pinning Alfred to the ground, snarling fiercely at the wretched old man. Alfred was utterly caught off-guard, reeking of fear. The bastard had no idea who he was dealing with. In panic, he tried to reach the knife that Trent had knocked out of his hand earlier.

Quinn hurried over and kicked the knife farther from him. “I don’t think so,” he said.

Vanessa found the handcuff key on the floor and quickly freed the twins. John shifted fully again, swishing his tail. Jane caught his eyes—she understood when he motioned to the door with his glance. Vanessa helped Jane usher the twins to safety.

With them out of the way, John focused his attention to Alfred. Oh, how he wanted to tear that old bastard to pieces.

Quinn used Alfred’s knife to cut through the plastic that was binding their mother. She started to come out of the drug-induced sleep.

“Mom, are you okay?” asked Quinn.
    Their mother muttered something. When she finally completely regained her awareness, fury consumed her. She quickly slipped into her tiger skin and let out a fierce roar. The tigress matriarch crouched on the table, glaring down at Alfred, full of hatred.

He’s mine
, she said.

Alfred took the momentary distraction to try to scramble away, darting out from under Trent’s massive paw to sprint for the exit. In the flash of an eye, Savannah whipped towards him and pounced off the table, and John heard bones break as she landed on top him. She bit Alfred’s neck and shook him like a rag doll.

Quinn cursed. Trent and John hurried to restrain their mother but Quinn halted them. “Mom’s in a frenzy. You can’t stop her until it passes.” When a weretiger in the clan was overwrought by anger and hatred, they slipped into a state of mind called “frenzy.”  The weretiger would lash out and rage toward the object of their anger until the victim was dead, usually mauled to pieces. And if anybody tried to interfere, they would likely be torn apart as well. Quinn turned to John; his expression was stony. “Go take care of your wife and the twins. I’ll handle this.”