Big Cat Mates Lion in Wait (3 page)

The three men moved closer together, tracking his movements, their expressions wary. “She’s ours, cat. Find your own toy.”

Cat
? Starr stared at Royce, his features, even his stride, catlike.
Is the gossip about the Leone family true? Do I care if it is
?

Royce leisurely unbuttoned his suit jacket and removed it, the muscles in his shoulders rippling against his cotton shirt. “Hold this for me, beautiful.” He handed the expensive garment to Starr, his fingers brushing hers.

She clutched the jacket and breathed deeply, inhaling cologne and man, the warmth of his body lingering on the fabric.
I don’t care. I want him, cat or human or whatever else he is
.

“You think you can take all three of us, old timer?” the leader jeered.

Starr’s fear returned, this time for Royce, not herself. She glanced behind her, the parking lot remaining devoid of life. “I’ll get help,” Starr offered, reluctant to leave him.

“I don’t need any help.” Royce kicked off his black leather shoes, claw-like toenails poking through his socks. “Not to defeat these three pups.”

“Pups?” The leader coiled lower and leaped forward, his arms and face elongating, his body growing in size, short black hair covering his entire body, a tail protruding from his ass.

Royce roared, the sound setting off car alarms and temporarily deafening Starr. He sprang to meet his shifting rival, his clothes shredding, golden fur where his tanned skin should be. His hair grew, his jowls stretched, claws extended from his paws.

Paws
. Starr pressed her ass into the car behind her, unable to retreat any farther. The two animals collided, her lion slamming the lighter black wolf backward.
Lion. Wolf
. Her heart raced, pounding painfully against her ribs, like a beating of a tribal drum. The other two men shifted into wolves, smaller than the first yet as deadly.
They’re animals. They’re all animals
.

Starr glanced down at her hands, her fingers unchanged.
I’m still human
. Her relief mixed with worry. Her human form limited her ability to help Royce. And he needed help, desperately. The three wolves circled her lion.

My lion
. She forced herself to take deep breaths, calming down.
Royce is a lion and he’s fighting for me, against three wolves, three big wolves
. One wolf surged forward. Royce batted him back, leaving lines of red on the wolf’s fur.

The wolves barked, positioning themselves around her lion.
I have to help him
. Starr twisted Royce’s suit jacket, evaluating her options.

The wolves rushed forward. Royce swiped his claws over one wolf’s chest, knocking him to the side. The wolf crumpled to the pavement and didn’t get back up.

Royce closed his jaws over the second wolf’s neck, teeth piercing through fur and skin. Bones crunched and the wolf went limp, his legs twitching.

The third wolf, the black leader, jumped onto Royce’s back and tore at his golden hide. Her lion roared, rounding his spine and bucking, twisting his body, snapping his jaws, unable to dislodge him.

Oh God. The wolf is hurting him
. Starr glanced around her for a possible weapon. She dropped Royce’s jacket and picked up his shoes. She lobbed the left shoe, too frantic to aim, and missed her target, the designer footwear zinging past the wolf’s right ear.

She pushed aside her emotion, blocked the sight of Royce’s gaping wounds, and focused on the throw.
You can do this
. Starr wound up and pitched the shoe. The heel connected with the wolf’s skull, the thud loud, and he toppled from Royce’s back.

“Yes!” She pumped the air with her fist, that seasonal job she’d once taken as a funfair carny paying off.

Royce pounced on the wolf, flattening his shoulders to the pavement, grinding his face into the hard surface, her lion an impressive sight. The wolf whimpered. Royce swatted him with one of his big paws, and the wolf slumped. Her lion tilted his head back and roared his victory to the starless sky.

“Magnificent,” Starr whispered, awed by his strength, his feline beauty.

Royce, her lion, turned his head and stared at her with his unblinking cat eyes. Starr stilled, her appreciation darkening into fear.
Does he see me as a friend? A foe? Dinner
? He padded toward her, his mouth slightly open, his teeth huge and sharp, blood matting his fur. She didn’t move. She couldn’t move, her feet frozen in place.

He rubbed his great head against her bare legs, his mane silky soft. His chest rumbled.
He’s purring
. Starr smiled, grateful to be alive, giddy with relief. She threaded her fingers through his fur, scratching behind his ears and the rumbling grew louder.

“You’re beautiful.” Starr crouched and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his mane. He butted his head under her chin and licked her neck. She quivered, imagining his tongue elsewhere, her face flushing at the inappropriate thought.

I can’t want an animal… can I
? She pressed against her lion, stroking him, caressing him, his scent surrounding her. “So beautiful,” she repeated, enchanted by his presence, her big cat, her predator, her beastly lover.

Royce’s golden fur became golden skin, his mane retracting, his muscles rippling under her fingers. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her cheek. He scattered hard kisses over her jaw, his mouth firm and hot. “And brave.” His lion reflected in his unusual eyes. “And you have a killer aim.” He caught one of her hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles, his tongue darting over her skin.

“Not normally.” Starr trembled, aroused and excited and relieved, her pussy moistening, her nipples tightening. “It’s gotta be the shoes,” she joked, attempting to ease her nerves and distract him from her physical response.

“It’s gotta be.” Royce’s lips twitched. “They were my favorite pair.” He straightened, wondrously naked, her man-beast, his cock hard and his muscles defined. He looked back over his shoulder, his face darkening. The black wolf remained sprawled on the pavement, his chest rising and falling, alive… barely.

“Your shoes
were
nice.” She sighed, three years of working in a now-out-of-business shoe store giving her an appreciation for quality footwear, a lifetime of being a woman giving her an appreciation for the lion-man in front of her. “I’d offer to pay for a replacement pair but that would mean working a fourth job.”

“Is that why you work so hard? To buy shoes?” Royce linked his fingers with hers and prowled toward the car, his gait rolling, his ass cheeks clenching and unclenching, the man clearly comfortable being nude.

“I wish.” Starr gulped cool air, trailing behind him, not as comfortable with his glorious male form. “First, it was to pay for school, then to cover my mom’s medical and funeral bills, God rest her sainted soul, and now I have a rescuer who likes expensive footwear.”

“You wouldn’t need rescuing if you worked for me.” Royce opened the passenger door of the Maserati, the scent of leather and new car mixing with his natural cologne, the heady concoction causing Starr’s head to spin.

And me to hear things. He wants me to work for him
? She stared up at Royce. “I thought I blew the interview.” She shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, unwilling to raise her hopes only to have them dashed once more.

“It wasn’t the interview you blew.” His eyes glinted with promises of sexual delights. “I don’t have time for a relationship, Starr,” Royce confessed. “But I can’t not be with you. I’ve been spending hours I don’t have stalking you.” He raked his fingers through his shaggy hair, his turmoil reflecting hers. “I --”

Starr pressed a fingertip against his lips, stopping his words. “I understand. Boy, do I understand.”

He needs me. And I need him
. She grinned, joy filling her heart, Royce possibly the only other being on the planet who knew what she was going through.

“How about you pay me an outrageous salary to work for you, more than I’d earn at all three of my other jobs, and if we have time, we do more?” she brazenly suggested.

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, his fingertips pressing against her pulse, and he lowered her hand, freeing his lips. “It won’t be romantic,” Royce warned. “I’ll work you hard. My previous assistant burned out.”

“I’m not your previous assistant.”
I’ll be the best damn assistant he’s ever had
. Starr leaned into Royce, determined to take care of her lonely workaholic boss.
He won’t be able to live without me
. “And you couldn’t burn me out even if you tried.” She raised her chin, challenging him.

“I’ll try.” Royce chuckled, and the knots in Starr’s stomach untangled. “You’ve been warned, beautiful.”

He dipped his head and covered her lips with his. Starr wiggled with excitement, wanting, needing him. Royce flattened his palms on her back and pulled her body toward his, nestling his hard cock against her stomach, his arousal reassuring her that their relationship wouldn’t be purely business.

This handsome man-beast is mine, all mine
. She held onto Royce’s bare shoulders as they kissed, his skin golden under her pale fingers, his heart beating against her breast.
My rescuer. My boss. My lover
.

Royce feigned an interest in the advertising copy on the mahogany desk in front of him, the antique piece of furniture reminding him that although he was relatively young for an alpha, his pride had a lengthy history, stretching back through many generations.

He needed that reminder today as the seductive present was stealing his attention away from his work. Royce watched Starr out of the corner of his eye, his lion pacing restlessly inside him, eager to fuck their luscious new assistant again, the fourth fuck of the day.

Four fucking times
. He hadn’t had that reaction to a female… ever, not even in his horny youth. Royce suspected what his constant arousal meant.

Mate
. His lion raked his claws over him, irritated over being ignored, both of them achingly conscious of every move their plush female made.

Starr strode across his office, appearing as fresh as she had this morning, her smile wide, her brown curls bouncing, her generous breasts pushing at the confines of her new black blazer, the sales tag dangling from one sleeve.
Gods, I’m a lucky male
.

She placed a mug of coffee on his desk, her special blend of java as addictive as she was. “I brought you a refill, boss.” Starr perched on the edge of his desk, her legs delightfully pale, the musk of wet pussy and steaming coffee scattering his few remaining thoughts.

“Good. That should get me to…” Royce glanced at his watch and groaned. “Shit. It’s two a.m. If I drink this, I’ll be up all night.” He was up right now, his cock pressing against the zipper of his dress pants.

“I switched your coffee to decaf three hours ago.” Starr straightened his stapler, lining it up parallel to the wood grain.

“Then you must be the reason I’m up.” He caught her constantly moving hand and rubbed her knuckles against his jaw, grinding his scent into her pale skin.

“Am I?” Her big honey-brown eyes glowed, her lashes long and dark.

“Yes.”
I’ll fuck her one more time, and then I’ll focus on work
. Royce pulled her onto his lap and tugged her skirt up to allow her to straddle him, her silk panties pressing against the ridge in his pants. “You’re incredible.” He kneaded her ass and buried his face in her breasts, savoring her curves, her body soft and welcoming.

“Boss, your brother is still here.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the open doorway, her cheeks streaked pink. “And you have work to do.” Starr cupped his face, her fingertips intriguingly rough, his mate accustomed to working hard, a trait he admired. “The client is coming in tomorrow morning bright and early.”

“Damn technology companies,” he grumbled, fixing his gaze on the deep valley between her breasts.
If I rested my head there for a few more moments
…

“The copy, Royce,” Starr reminded him. “We need a winning phrase to sway the client. You told me that was important to the firm, to your pride,” she whispered as though it were a secret only they shared, her breath caressing his cheek.

The pride wasn’t a secret -- his brothers and most of their employees were fellow lion-shifters. “I want you so much, I’m ready to explode.”

“Let me handle the explosion.” She slid down his legs onto the hardwood floor and backed under the desk. “Would your brother be able to see me here?” She gazed up at Royce, trusting him to protect her from any embarrassment.

He would. He’d protect her with his life. “I’ll hear him approach.” Royce lowered his chair and spread his legs, shielding his curvaceous mate. “He won’t see you. I give you my word.”

“Good.” Starr reached up and stroked his hard cock through his pants, her touch divine. “You work on the copy. I’ll help you get those creative juices flowing.”

“You’ll get juices flowing all right,” he rumbled, sinking deeper into his leather chair, the tension easing from his shoulders.
I can work and find release at the same time
. She tapped his tip, and he moaned softly.
Why did I resist this, her
? She worked him from balls to cockhead and his lion purred, pleased by her petting.

Starr unzipped his pants, freeing his cock, underwear deemed unnecessary by the end of her first day. Royce rolled his head back as she wrapped her rough fingers around him, gripping him firmly, taking his desire, his need, his loneliness in hand.

Starr swiped her thumb over his cockhead, glazing his skin with precum, and he shuddered. “The copy, boss,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. She pumped him and he stared at the paper, the words dancing in front of him.

Starr cupped his aching balls, and Royce gritted his teeth.
The client wants sexy. This copy isn’t sexy
. She licked his tip, her tongue wet and rough, and his fingers curled into fists.
Starr is sexy, so fuckin’ sexy
.