Some men are more than meets the eye. . .much, much more. And when they unleash a woman's wildest desires--her deepest, animal hunger--the results are primal, magical, and undeniably hot. . . Chanku Rising Kate Douglas Xandi, Keisha, Stefan and Anton share a powerful secret: they are shapeshifters whose primal power and heightened senses bring an added ecstasy to their lovemaking that is beyond all words. Now, one of their own is threatened by a danger from the outside, from one determined to expose their sexy secrets, and the friends will go to any lengths to save her and their clan. . . Tiger, Tiger Noelle Mack In the demon-haunted Himalayas, where illusion and reality are often one and the same, strange things happen. For a hard-bodied, world-class climber--a man of unearthly sensuality--that border will be challenged in the most erotic of encounters. In the guise of a blue-eyed snow tiger, he is able to lure one intrepid woman into his mountain lair and show her that the line between man and beast is blissfully slim indeed. . . Night Of The Jaguar Vivi Anna When Myra Galas finally takes her dream trip to the Amazon, she never imagines it will end in tragedy. Wounded and alone, Myra's mind is stalked by a dark, sexy male--sometimes man, sometimes jaguar--she inexplicably craves with every inch of her body. When she wakes to find herself in his powerful arms, he stirs something deep inside her--an ancient, hedonistic desire clawing to be set free. . . Open yourself to pleasure and indulge the beast within. . .
Release date:
October 9, 2013
Publisher:
Aphrodisia
Print pages:
304
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One moment, she was a tall, elegantly dressed African American woman with long, darkly waving hair and eyes of brilliant amber. In less than a heartbeat, her dress lay on the redwood deck in a tumbled shimmer of blue satin. The woman had become the wolf, amber eyes glinting angrily in the last dying rays of the sun, canines glimmering like ivory blades. With a single low growl and a flick of her tail, she leapt over the deck railing and raced through the damp meadow.
Anton Cheval threw back his head and laughed. Keisha hated to lose an argument, any argument.
“You gonna let her get away with this?”
Anton turned to the couple sitting behind him, snuggled close together on the big porch swing.
Grinning broadly, Stefan Aragat lifted his wine glass. “She is your mate. You better chase her down. We’d help, but Xandi and I plan to enjoy the sunset before we run.”
Anton glared at Stefan for a brief moment, then shook his head in resignation. Stefan was right. If he didn’t chase after Keisha and work this out now, he’d never hear the end of it.
Anton’s abrupt shift from human to wolf left his clothing in a messy pile on the deck. So unlike him, he thought, not to remember to undress first and fold everything neatly. He glanced once more at the dark pants and black cashmere sweater laying in an untidy heap, then cleared the deck railing and the garden beyond in a single bound.
Maybe laughter hadn’t been his best response.
Only Keisha could leave him so flustered.
Or so turned on.
Anton’s powerful forelegs stretched out and he gathered speed with each thrust of his haunches, but his mind was not entirely the wolf. No, he was reacting like a very protective male, no matter the species, and he knew it irritated the hell out of his alpha mate.
It didn’t matter. He was not, under any circumstances, going to allow her to return to San Francisco by herself. It went against all he stood for, all that the Chanku were. Their strength lay in the pack, not in the individual.
The memorial garden Keisha had designed for Golden Gate Park was moving forward according to schedule. She’d made enough trips, accompanied by either Anton or Stefan, to ensure everything would be perfect for the dedication. There was no reason she needed to go back early.
Not with that damned tabloid reporter, Carl Burns, once more on her trail.
Anton snarled and almost missed the leap across a small, partially frozen stream. The mere thought of the persistent reporter raised his hackles, made his heart race faster, his blood run hotter.
Burns was the one man who could expose them, the one person who not only suspected the existence of Chanku, but had actually witnessed Keisha’s shift from woman to wolf.
Anton knew his ability to mesmerize was extraordinary, but even he had his limits. He’d hoped the mind-job he’d done on the tabloid reporter would erase the smut-peddler’s memories of Keisha for a longer time than they had, but the bastard had suddenly reappeared in their lives on Keisha’s last trip to the city.
Why hadn’t Keisha let Anton file harassment charges? Carl Burns was a menace, a threat not only to Anton’s mate but to the pack as a whole.
No matter. Anton’s meetings in Boston would be over in less than a week and they could make the trip west together. He had a lot of money riding on this latest investment. Stefan was learning the business, but he wasn’t up to handling an entire board of directors for a multi-national company all by himself.
Following the frosty trail with his wolven mind, working through the problems concerning Keisha with his human side, Anton loped across the familiar ground. He still wasn’t certain what he could say to make her wait, but somehow he would convince her of the danger.
He had to.
Danger!
Keisha’s warning hit him like a solid object. Another scent assaulted his sensitive nostrils. Anton ducked low, twisted and slipped off the trail.
Male. Not Chanku. Human male. More than one, very close. Anton raised his nose and sniffed the air. He scented excitement, fear and the sour sweat of unwashed human.
Keisha’s scent was strongest, to the right.
Pain. Anger. Fear.
Her emotions washed over him, impossible to understand, beyond speech, beyond coherent thought. Anton veered off the main trail and, keeping his body low to the ground, raced down a narrow, bramble-filled ditch. Tufts of dark hair clung to some of the thorns. He scented blood and his hackles rose. Either she was so pissed she was ignoring the thorns, or something—someone—had hurt her.
All thoughts of meetings, investments, humanity, evaporated. Pure wolven rage filled Anton’s heart, seared his thoughts. His lips curled back in a dark snarl, exposing sharp canines.
Anton!
Keisha’s mental cry, clear now, ringing true as a bell in his mind, sent ice running through his veins.
Anton! Take care! Poachers. Armed with crossbows.
He skidded to a halt, one foot raised, his sensitive nose finding Keisha’s scent, smelling blood along with her unique, feminine fragrance, pinpointing her location. At the same time, he reached out with his thoughts to touch Stefan and Xandi.
The connection was instantaneous, their response immediate. Satisfied, Anton raced toward his mate. I’m coming. Are you hurt?
Just grazed. Stay low. Can you reach Stefan? I can’t find him.
I’ve already contacted him. He’s on his way. He’ll bring the four-wheeler and he’s armed. Xandi’s called the sheriff. Where are the poachers?
Near the pond. They’ve built a blind at the far end, above the beaver dam.
Anton passed the information on to Stefan. Scanned the thick underbrush along the near edge of the pond. Keisha’s scent and the odor of fresh blood were strong, her fear and anger a palpable thing. Where are you?
Near the birch stand. Low, in the bramble patch.
He found her there, curled into a tight ball, her blood dripping steadily into the remnants of one last patch of crusty snow. She’d packed the shallow wound in her shoulder with ice, at least as well as she could in wolven form. Tiny crystals tinged with blood clung to the stiff whiskers along her muzzle.
Anton inspected the wound, licked the matted fur around it, grabbed a mouthful of ice and pushed it tightly against the seeping gash. Thank goodness, it didn’t appear life threatening.
He licked Keisha’s muzzle, wiping away the bloody snow with a careful swipe of his tongue. I should kill them. They need to die. Anton’s thought ended on a snarl of pure rage.
No, you should have them arrested. They’re idiots. Let the law deal with them.
Keisha’s calm statement helped slow his racing heart. Still, he growled, unwilling to concede too easily. I will, but I don’t have to like it. I’d rather kill them.
Keisha raised her head and glowered at him through eyes shimmering with pain. Sighing, Anton nuzzled her once more and waited impatiently for Stefan to arrive with clothing for both of them…hopefully before Xandi brought the sheriff.
This made the third set of poachers on their land this season—all of them hunting wolves.
Naked, Keisha sat on the toilet seat lid, hunched over in pain and seething with anger while Anton cleaned the shallow gash across her left shoulder. Her body trembled, a delayed reaction to the shooting.
Stefan and Xandi would be back later. They’d followed the sheriff into town to give more of a statement after one of his deputies had taken Keisha and Anton’s. Now, alone here with Anton, Keisha felt the full impact of the night’s attack.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see the doctor?” Anton’s fingers caught her gently under the chin and lifted, forcing her to face him. “It’s not all that deep, but it could leave a scar.”
“Then it leaves a scar. I’ll be fine. Damn them. I hope they rot in jail.” Her voice shook, but it was rage, not pain that had her hanging on the edge of tears. “Somebody put them up to this. They were too stupid to come here on their own. I just know it.”
Anton placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I agree. I just wish we knew who it was. I doubt those men know enough to shed any light on the situation. Unfortunately, I imagine an attorney will have them out of jail in a few hours.”
“Well, I’ll be long gone. I’m planning to leave for San Francisco the day after tomorrow. I’ve already got my flight arranged.” Keisha tilted her head, daring him, waiting for his argument. Anton’s eyes narrowed but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he carefully bandaged Keisha’s wound and drew her slowly into his arms.
She went willingly, inhaling the musky scent that was all Anton’s, reveling in the strength of his embrace, the deep sense of love and safety that surrounded him. It would be so easy to lose herself in Anton’s arms, to forget the memorial, the dedication, the fact that someone hunted her as if she were nothing more than a wild beast.
So easy to forget the danger when Anton held her tight.
“I was terrified when I heard your warning of danger, when I sensed your fear.” Anton’s voice cracked on the words and a deep shudder passed through his body. Keisha clung to him, suddenly awash with guilt. She’d been thinking only of herself, of her desire to see the job through. What if it had been Anton wounded today? What if she’d followed his blood on the trail? Found him curled up in a ball of pain, hurting and frightened?
Could she have controlled her rage as well as Anton did? Would she have even tried? It hit her like an epiphany, the explosive awareness of how wild her nature had become since embracing her Chanku heritage. Keisha accepted a new reality—if Anton had been the one injured, the two shooters wouldn’t have survived long enough to go to jail. She’d killed men before. As much as she abhorred violence, she could do it again if her mate were threatened.
It took her a moment to tamp down the rush of bloodlust that almost swamped her. Finally, she swallowed back a growl and nuzzled close to Anton’s chest. “I wasn’t afraid, not once I knew you were close.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m never afraid when you’re with me.”
Anton groaned, the sound a sensual rumble against her breasts. Keisha whimpered, a tiny, needy sound deep in her throat. She inhaled his scent, drawing strength from his warmth and innate power. She rocked her hips close to his, rubbed her mons over the smooth fabric of his pants.
Anton groaned, then kissed her hard, his tongue plundering, his teeth scraping her lips, along her jaw, nipping at her with a wild frenzy. His lips demanded. His hands raced across her back, over her breasts, swept down to her buttocks where he grabbed her with bruising strength and pressed her body closer to his.
Caught in his feverish desire, Keisha cried out against his mouth. She felt the heat of his erection through his black chinos, the hard edge of his belt buckle abrading her belly. The flap of fabric over his bulging zipper pressed against her swollen clit. His tongue found its way once more between her lips and he caught her up in a swift and carnal rhythm, plunging into her mouth, lifting her body hard against his.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her pussy close against his straining cock, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough to soothe the fire raging hot and wild inside.
Keisha writhed in Anton’s powerful grasp, all the anger and pain, the fear and frustration of the past few hours coalescing into heat and passion, need of an almost feral intensity, driving her heart, inflating her lungs, making her gasp as if she’d run miles. Keisha lowered her legs, planted her feet firmly on the tile floor and let go of Anton’s neck, then grabbed at the hem of his sweater. She raked her fingernails over his ribs as she tugged the garment past his head.
The moment he shed the sweater, Anton dragged her against him for a deep, tongue-twisting, mind-searing kiss. Gasping for air, he backed away and stared deeply into her eyes, his nostrils flaring, his dark pupils narrow slits, dark shards of obsidian surrounded in amber.
Keisha reached for his thoughts and found them blocked, surrounded by something dark and impenetrable. Whatever he felt for her, whatever he thought of her, remained hidden behind those watchful eyes.
Fingers trembling, Keisha raised her right hand and touched Anton’s cheek. He turned and kissed her palm, groaning once again. She felt the press of his lips all the way to her womb. The tight clenching of her vaginal walls, the rush of welcoming fluids, the ache deep within her gut wrung a cry from her lips and she thrust her breasts against his bare chest, rubbing her sensitive nipples in the thick mat of his dark hair.
Anton nipped her palm, took a deep breath, then grabbed Keisha by the hips and spun her around, pressing her belly against the cool tile surrounding the bathroom sink. Shoving the first aid kit aside, she spread her palms wide and braced herself on the counter. With his left hand in the small of her back holding her down, Anton found her wet and waiting pussy with the fingers of his right.
He thrust two fingers, then three inside, slipping easily into her drenched pussy, stroking her inner walls, trailing his thumb lightly across her anus, then pressing harder, finding entrance there as well.
She felt the tight muscle relax, then close once more around the base of his thumb as he once again found a seductive rhythm. In, out, penetrating both passages, slow and deep, his thumb pressing against his fingers through the thin wall of sensitive flesh inside her body.
Gasping for air, Keisha spread her legs even wider, flattening her belly hard against the tile. Once more she tried to reach Anton’s thoughts.
Still she found them closed to her.
Her climax was rushing forward, but she heard the sound of his zipper, the rustle of cloth and Anton’s body was there, the broad head of his cock pressing hard against her wet and waiting pussy, her swollen and sensitive lips parting, giving Anton passage.
His body, but not his thoughts. His skill as a lover, but not his love. Suddenly Keisha understood as awareness flooded her mind, left her soul wanting, her heart hurting.
This was not an act of love at all, at least not love as Keisha expected it. No. This was something darker, something ancient and ritualistic.
This was something she must fight or accept, the way of Chanku.
The way of the alpha male subduing his bitch.
Pressing Keisha flush against the smooth tile until her breasts were flattened and her cheek rested on the hard surface, Anton thrust hard and fast, establishing his dominance, his power and physical strength over his mate.
Keisha thought to struggle, then accepted. He might be physically stronger, yet she was the winner, the one who cried out in mindless pleasure when Anton pumped his seed into her, the one who begged for more, then milked him with powerful muscles until his legs quivered and he leaned across her back to keep from falling to the floor.
The one who opened her mind at the point of climax and found his waiting—conscience-stricken, apologetic and remorseful beyond description.
Each harsh breath forced his chest against her back and her tight vaginal muscles continued their steady contraction and release around his shrinking cock.
Anton sensed no anger from her, no fear, no emotion beyond love and her underlying compassion.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just done! This was no better than rape, this harsh and forced lovemaking…no, he couldn’t begin to call it lovemaking. Keisha would never forgive him.
She shouldn’t forgive him.
How would he go on living if she didn’t?
He raised his head, spread his palms out on the cool tile to separate himself from Keisha’s warm body.
“No. Please. Not yet.” She turned and smiled at him. “Damn. You feel too good inside me. Don’t go yet.”
“But…?” Anton frowned. “You’re not…?”
“Not what? Pissed?” She grinned, a lopsided smile that tore at his heart. “A little. On the other hand, if I’d wanted to stop you, all I needed to do was tell you to stop, right?”
He thought about that a minute. He would have quit in a heartbeat, no matter how angry, if he’d thought she wanted him to. “Okay, that’s true, but…”
Keisha reached up and brushed her knuckles across his chin. “I didn’t ask you to stop, Anton. I love you. We were both a bit overdosed on adrenaline. Do you love me?”
You know I do. I love you more than life itself.
Then why did you block your thoughts?
Anton sighed, then slowly withdrew from her body. He grabbed a yellow washcloth, held it under running water a moment, then wrung it out and handed it to Keisha. She turned around, leaned against the counter where they’d just had the most amazing sexual encounter, and unselfconsciously began to clean the semen and fluids from between her legs.
Anton watched her for a moment, mesmerized by the sweep of the damp yellow cloth against her dark skin and realized he wanted her again. He would always want her. He sighed, took the washcloth after she rinsed it in the sink and held it. “I didn’t want you to see an anger I couldn’t fully comprehend, didn’t want you to think less of me, to realize I can’t always control the beast inside.”
Keisha grinned, grabbed the washcloth hanging limply in his hand and began to wash his no longer limp cock. “You control the beast admirably, my love. Just don’t try to control me.”
She raised her head and gazed at him for a long moment. Anton watched her perfect breasts rise and fall with each breath she took, then looked up, into her eyes. “If you do,” she said, and her voice was tight with emotion, “you’ll lose me forever.”
“I don’t like it one bit. What’s a few more days?” Anton practically growled at her. If he’d been in wolf form, Keisha knew his hackles would be up. Obviously, their explosive lovemaking right after the shooting hadn’t had the impact on Anton she’d hoped for.
Standing face to face with her lover in their large bedroom, Keisha held her ground and glared at Anton. Her shoulder hurt and she had one hell of a headache, but she was not giving in on this. “It’s the difference between doing my job right and not. You of all people should understand that.”
Anton sighed and pulled her gently into his arms. “I do, sweetheart. I really do. I don’t have to like it, though.”
She went willingly, her anger evaporating as quickly as his. “You said your meetings in Boston will be over by Friday. You can join me this weekend. It’ll give me time to get my work done without a lot of, um, distractions, okay?”
“But I love distracting you. I’ll worry. It’s dangerous for you. Stefan suspects Burns might be behind the poachers.”
“Then it’s probably safer in San Francisco than here.” She leaned back in his embrace and smirked. “I’ve never been shot at in San Francisco. Kidnapped, assaulted, but never shot.”
Anton shook his head, obviously unhappy. She rarely made reference to her deadly attack and wished she could take back the words said half in jest. Now wasn’t the time to remind Anton of what she’d barely survived just a few short months ago.
Keisha rubbed her bandaged shoulder, then closed the gap between them and brushed her lips over Anton’s. “The dedication’s scheduled for the first Sunday in June. With travel, that gives me less than a week…not a lot of time for me to make sure everything is ready. This is important to me, Anton. I have to go. I promise I’ll be careful.”
“I know.” He leaned close, his lips softly brushing hers.
She tilted her hips forward, pressing her pubic bone against his growing erection, at the same time sending out a silent call to Xandi and Stefan.
This would be the last night for all of them to spend together for more than a week. If nothing else, she knew sex with her packmates was a sure cure for the headache that lingered.
Anton smiled against her mouth. He’d obviously caught her signal to the others. She knew nothing pleased him more than when she initiated a night of pleasure for the four of them.
Unless of course, it was just the two of them, perfectly in sync.
Last night, after her attack, after the sheriff and his deputies had hauled off their captives and Keisha’s injured shoulder had been properly cleaned and bandaged, after she and Anton had made love, they’d all shared the same bed. There’d been no sex among them then, merely loving, supportive bodies holding her close, helping her heal.
Tonight, Keisha wanted more.
Anton’s hands were roughly kneading her taut buttocks when Stefan slipped into the room and wrapped his arms around both Keisha and Anton. “Xandi’s on a grocery run. She’ll join us later.”
Keisha turned to Stefan and kissed him. “Hmmmm. Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s missing.” Stefan’s tongue found the seam between her full lips. Practically purring with the sensual promise in his kiss, she welcomed him inside. Her mouth moved with his as Anton’s lips found the sensitive spot below her ear. Stefan’s hands worked the buttons on. . .
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