White Tiger (A Shifter's Unbound Novel) (10 page)

“Goodness,” Addie blinked. “Where on earth do you live?”

“Around. But trust me, I’m a big sweetie. Your cubs are safe with me.”

Kendrick didn’t look convinced. “Finish your breakfast and go.” He rose from the table and moved to stand a little behind Ben, like a sentry.

“Or what?” Ben asked, picking up his fork.

“I’ll stop being polite.” Kendrick folded his arms and waited.

“Right, right.” Ben tore apart his eggs, the yolks spreading bright gold across the plate. “Errand boy.”

Kendrick didn’t move. He could do that—go absolutely still, his green eyes fixed, watching. When he was like that, Addie could see the cat in him, the tiger that could kill with one swipe of his huge paw.

Kendrick the man, on the other hand, was delectable. His arms bulged against the shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest. His hair was messy from sleep, the white and black tangled together, and bristles covered his jaw, but he didn’t look bedraggled. He looked like he’d just risen from bed, warm and tousled, and lucky was the woman who got to see him first thing in the morning.

Addie hoped no one else noticed her devouring him with her gaze, but Ben concentrated on his breakfast, the man effusive in his praise to Charlie. He took his time, enjoying it, then rose, held out his fists to bump with the cubs’, who’d softened to him a bit. Ben gave Addie another once-over, winked at her, and walked out, Kendrick close behind him.

Addie followed them, standing on the back porch as
Kendrick ushered Ben down the steps. Ben had left a motorcycle parked close to Kendrick’s at the back of the house, and Kendrick walked him every step to it.

Ben and Kendrick had more conversation as Ben checked his bike, but they were too far away for Addie to hear it, and they leaned in, voices low. Kendrick regarded Ben with a hard stare, while Ben gestured with his hands as he argued.

It was clear who lost the debate. Kendrick’s body was tilted forward over Ben’s, an aggressive stance, while Ben was trying not to back down.

Finally, Ben climbed aboard his bike, started it up, and drove it around the house to the dirt drive, a wake of dust climbing into the clear, blue sky.

Kendrick turned around, regarding Addie on the porch without surprise, as though he’d known she’d followed to watch.

“Kendrick,” Addie said. “We need to talk.” She stepped off the porch and marched toward the barn on the little rise behind the house, without waiting to see whether he’d follow.

W
atching Addison walk up to the barn, her backside swaying in tight jeans, woke Kendrick’s hunger with a vengeance. Too long burning, too long alone. The non-satisfaction of the dream rose up and bit him.

Addison was angry. Kendrick noted that with the same awareness that followed the noise of Ben’s motorcycle far into the distance.

Addison slowed her pace as she entered the barn. Kendrick caught up to her, finding himself in a shadowy interior with a lofty roof, smelling of dust, hay, and horse.

Only one horse stood in this vastness, in a stall that was one of a dozen. The horse hung its head over the partition when Addison approached and gave a heartfelt little whinny. It was lonely, just like the rest of them.

“How are you, girl?” Addison halted in front of the stall and rubbed the horse’s nose. “It’s too hot for you to run in the corral right now. Later, I’ll ask Charlie to turn you out.”

“How do you know it’s a she?” Kendrick asked, using the words to deflect his roiling desire. “Because your grandparents taught you about horses?”

“Because Charlie told me.” Addison turned from the
mare but kept her hand on its neck. “I’m not expert enough to tell the difference by one glance—well, I mean except for the obvious way.” She patted the horse again. “Not what I came here to talk to you about.”

Kendrick didn’t think she had.

“You need to be straight with me.” Addison stepped away from the horse. She kept her voice low, trying not to startle the beast, but she stared straight into Kendrick’s eyes. Brooking no nonsense, her look said. “I know you didn’t want to say much in front of Charlie or your cubs, but we’re alone now. That Ben guy obviously found you here pretty easily. Who is this Dylan, and why was he looking for you?”

“There’s a lot of Shifter business going on,” Kendrick said. “Dangerous business.”

“I figured that. You’re a Shifter Guardian, whatever that means, who kept your friends from being put into Shiftertowns. I know you told me this—I’m trying to get it all straight. How does this guy Dylan figure into it?”

Kendrick regarded her for a moment while putting in order what he’d tell her. He longed to protect her from all the shit in his life, but he also knew that ignorance might get Addison killed. Maybe that’s what the dream had meant.

“Dylan Morrissey is father to the leader of the Austin Shiftertown,” Kendrick began. “Last year, he helped organize a raid on my compound—he thought we’d kidnapped a woman. When my Shifters scattered, Dylan found me. I thought he wanted to Collar me and force me into his Shiftertown, but instead, he recruited me to help him track down a band of Shifters who used to follow a feral Shifter in Mexico. Those Shifters are dangerous, most of them gone totally feral, and many are roaming free. He knew I could help him track them under the radar—humans don’t know about me. Dylan promised that if I helped him, he’d keep humans away from
my
Shifters forever. I couldn’t say no to that. But I soon realized I was under his thumb, and time was going by. I just told Ben to tell Dylan that I’m finished, I’m out. Time for Dylan to keep up his end of the deal.”

Addison listened—what she thought, Kendrick couldn’t tell. He’d left out the days and nights of hunting along the
border, standing by while Dylan meted out his brand of rough justice. Dylan had either dragged the Shifter back to a Shiftertown, fitting him with a Collar to calm him down, or killed the Shifter outright if they’d been too far feral. Kendrick was a Guardian—he was there to send the Shifter to dust.

Kendrick no longer wanted to be the Guardian in Dylan’s pocket.

Addison listened, her blue eyes wide. “Do these rogue Shifters have anything to do with the ones who shot up the diner?”

Kendrick’s fears lashed at him. “I’m not sure. There have always been elements among my Shifters that were factious, but none rebelled openly. But since my Shifters dispersed last fall, it seems that some of them have decided to break from me and join a contingency of Collared Shifters who want out of Shiftertowns. Shifters are dangerous, Addison. I don’t care what the human-made documentaries say or how harmless you think my cubs are. Shifters are volatile and unpredictable. I tell you all this so you understand that. Sending you to New Orleans—by private plane, not bus—is looking better and better to me.”

“Is it?” Addison cocked her head, as she had in the dream. “Who is going to watch out for your cubs while you face all these dangerous Shifters? From what I heard, you asked Ben to find some of your Shifters and send them to you. Sounds risky. I think I’d better stay right where I am.”

Kendrick went to her swiftly. The horse threw up her head and backed up in her stall, her eyes white. She knew the creature who moved toward her was predatory, a beast in the guise of a man.

Addison, on the other hand, stood her ground. She also knew Kendrick was a predator, and she didn’t care.

Time to teach her a few things.

Kendrick gripped Addison by the shoulders. “I didn’t want you to come with me in the first place. Dragging you into danger wasn’t what I needed.”

“Yes you did,” Addison said quietly. Her sure gaze met his agitated one. “You wanted me to come or else you’d have
put me on that plane or left me in the motel or even at the side of the road.”

She was right that he’d wanted her with him. Even in Kendrick’s anger, he had to acknowledge that. He hadn’t wanted her to go, not yet. Even now, as he told her he wanted her gone, he knew he didn’t mean it. He needed her here, next to him. That’s also what the dream had told him.

“If you stay too long, Addison, then I can’t ever let you leave. If Shifter Bureau catches you, they won’t let up on you. They’ll keep at you until you tell them everything about me.”

“Fine then,” Addison said. “I won’t leave.”

Kendrick’s grip tightened. “If you stay with me, your greatest danger is
from
me. You need to understand that.”

“Because you can change into a big tiger and take me out with one paw?” Her smile came. “I’ll risk it.”

Kendrick’s blood fired. “It’s more than that, Addison. It’s so much more than that.”

“Oh?” Addison’s tone sharpened with curiosity and behind that, excitement. “What exactly do you mean, then?”

“Damn it.”

Kendrick’s words turned to a growl. His hands began to change, claws extending from fingers that turned furry. The claws snagged the material of the T-shirt on her shoulders and tore through it.

Kendrick never broke her skin. He knew exactly how much pressure to use, and when to stop.

He was hot, his blood beginning to sear. He felt as though he’d run too long, oxygen squeezing out of him and leaving him breathless.

He brought his claws down the front of the shirt, ripping it away. No thought about how she’d get back to the house with her clothes in shreds crossed his mind. At the moment, Kendrick didn’t care.

Addison drew a quick breath, her curiosity changing to surprise but not fear. Her lips parted, became moist, as Kendrick’s claws receded, his hands became fully a man’s, and he dragged his fingers down the shirt, pulling it away.

Her bra beneath was a neutral-colored satin with a white bow, cupping her full breasts like loving hands. The bra was
too dull for her, too thick and masking. Kendrick would buy her beautiful lingerie—he had vague visions of floating white, red, or black fabric that enhanced rather than hid her.

Addison made a small noise when he tore open the bra, pulling it away to free the fullness of her.

This
is what Kendrick wanted to see—Addison the woman, no cloaking herself in awkward clothes, no effacing herself so she could make a living. She had round, full breasts, as he’d felt last night, the tips dusky pink, rising with her intake of breath.

Kendrick changed his touch to a tender one, cupping her with his palms where the bra had. Addison leaned into him, her eyes half closing.

Hell.
Kendrick brought his thumbs up to touch her nipples, a shudder going through him at the hot softness of her skin.
I need this.

He found himself dropping to his knees before he consciously decided to, the last remnants of the shirt she’d borrowed from him falling at his touch.

Kendrick pressed a long kiss to her belly, and her hands came around him to cradle his head, fingers stroking his hair.

“Your beauty blasts from you,” he whispered into her skin. “It cuts me.”

“I’m a waitress who needs to eat less pie,” Addison answered. Her supple abdomen moved with her laughter.

“It hurt me.” Kendrick pressed another kiss to her stomach, licking where his lips touched. “I told myself never to go back after I first saw you, but I couldn’t stop. I had to see you every night, just to look at you.”

“And here I thought you really liked the apple streusel. I can make some for you, if Charlie has the ingredients.”

“Stop.” Kendrick nipped her skin, then licked her again. He couldn’t cease tasting her. “Stop making this a joke. I brought you into danger, because I couldn’t deny myself. You call to me.”

Addison stroked his hair once more, fingers languid. “I can’t help making jokes. It’s how I deal with stress.”

Stress.
Something humans went on and on about. Shifters
had stress too, but usually it manifested in fights to the death or something as terrible as a Shifter giving in to anguish and ending his own life. Kendrick had felt that anguish but he’d grabbed on to all his strength and fought to stay alive. His cubs needed him.

“This is how
I
deal with stress,” Kendrick said. He popped open the button of her jeans and pulled down the zipper. He was kind and didn’t tear the fabric this time—he merely yanked the jeans and underwear beneath down to her ankles.

“Kendrick . . .”

Kendrick waited for what she wanted to say, but Addison fell silent. She was beautiful standing there, fully bare except for the fabric bunched around her sneakers. He looked up to her round breasts, the dark ponytail flowing over her shoulders, her blue eyes filled with need. Her stomach was soft, hips wide, and curls as dark as those on her head waited between her legs.

Kendrick brushed his hand to the join of her thighs, finding her moist. He leaned forward and kissed her there, liking the way she gave a startled jump.

Kendrick stilled her with one hand. “You taste like . . .” He groped for what he wanted to say. “Desire.”

She tasted exactly like he wanted her to, exactly as he needed her to. Her scent, honey with a slight tang of salt, entered him and became a part of him.

“You taste ready for me,” Kendrick finished.

Addison pushed at him with feeble hands. “I’m not sure what I’m ready for.”

“Greedy,” Kendrick said. “Me for you, you for me.”

“You’re confident.” Addison gave a shaky laugh. “Though it’s me standing in a barn with my clothes off.”

“You are hungry for me, Addison. I can taste it.” Kendrick kissed her again, then slid his tongue straight into her heat.

“Oh, my . . .” Addison broke off in a cross between a gasp and a moan. “Shit, Kendrick, you can’t . . .”

She trailed off, not finishing what he couldn’t do. Kendrick drew her closer to him, his hands on her hips, and drank her in.

The tang of her rolled over his tongue, her wanting, her dismay at wanting it, every need she had. Kendrick knew all.

At the same time, he tasted only
her
, the bite of her sending his lusts soaring. His cock tightened, wanting him to take her
now
. On the dusty straw, on the hard floor, to drive into her until every ache was gone. That would take a long, long time.

Addison groaned, her fingers twining in his hair. Kendrick sped his tongue’s strokes, drinking her. He wouldn’t take her fully here, in the dirt—not now. Later, though . . . He compensated for his kindness in not simply ravishing her by pleasuring her with his rapid tongue, making her hips rock with joy.

“Oh . . .” Addison pushed forward, reaching with all of herself for the sensation of his mouth.
“Oh . . . Holy f—”

Her word trailed off into a long cry of joy that became a wail. One hand left his hair to be pressed over her mouth, choking off the sound.

Kendrick kept on her as she twisted and writhed but never tried to dislodge him. She was breathing hard, perspiration shining on her skin.

“Kendrick. You have to
stop
.” Her voice was raw, hoarse.

No, he didn’t. Kendrick renewed his attack, his fingers pressing into her buttocks, kneading them as he lifted her against his mouth.

Addison gave up trying to stem her cries, which came out of her in loud
Ohs.
Her body arched to him, her hands pulled him closer, the heat of her flowing into his mouth. She wanted him inside her—his tongue was only the warm-up.

But not yet. Kendrick shook deep inside, holding back and hating it. She was human, fragile, in spite of her claims to the contrary. He’d die if he hurt her.

Kendrick gradually slowed his licks, nips, thrusts. Addison dragged him closer, wanting more, but Kendrick forced himself to back away, pressing a final kiss to her sweetness.