FUR FOR ALL, Book 5 in FIXED (13 page)

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“Don’t be silly, Granddad.” She lifted her wrist to glance at her watch.

Pointedly. “Now it’s getting late and I have to open the shop tomorrow morning.

I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I rush home.” The mention of the shop had the desired affect. Lionel’s mouth twisted in distaste and he nodded briskly. “Fine. Just remember what we’ve told you, Tess.

We expect to hear from you if you have any further contact with De Santos or the Other council members. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Tess assured him, nodding to Howard who opened the door for her. “I’ll call if I hear anything, or failing that, I’ll call as usual next Sunday. Good night.”

Her grandfather didn’t respond, but Tess considered that a good thing. She hurried down the stairs, taking her first deep breath when she heard the front door close behind her.

“God, I’m glad that’s over!”

Her statement was accompanied a low growl, too loud to be her stomach and too quiet to be a passing motorcycle. Besides which, her grandfather’s cook had prepared an excellent rack of lamb, and the only traffic she could see on the street consisted of an elderly woman and the Pomeranian she held on the end of a six foot leash. That growl had definitely not come from the Pomeranian.

Tess pulled her coat more snugly around her and looked up and down the street. Between the puddles of light cast by the streetlamps, the sidewalks looked ominously dark and deserted. Tess snorted at her own fanciful thoughts. This was not the sort of block that deserved a description like ominous. Besides the fact that it was solidly upper class and well patrolled by the police, it housed three high-ranking witches, including her grandfather. It had wards up the wazoo.

Shaking off her paranoia, Tess shoved her hands in her pockets and turned toward the corner to catch a cab. If she was lucky, and the taxi gods were looking 102

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out for her, she might just make it home in time to watch the episode of
Good Eats
she had on tape before she called it a night.

She listened to the rhythm of her heels clicking against the concrete as she strode up the block. Maybe she listened too hard, because she didn’t hear anything else. She certainly didn’t hear the sound of a three hundred pound jaguar leaping out of the cover of two parked cars and herding her sharply into the mouth of a service alley.

If she’d had the breath, she probably would have screamed, so maybe that was why the jaguar made sure she hit the wall squarely between the shoulder blades, driving the wind out of her and rendering her momentarily breathless. It backed off as soon as it had her where it wanted her, sitting back on its haunches in front of her and watching her with intent golden eyes.

Tess stared at it while she struggled for breath, and it was the eyes that clued her in. Well, the eyes and the statistical chances of any other jaguars roaming the streets of upper Manhattan on any given evening.

“Rafe?”

The jaguar didn’t say anything, of course, because that would have really freaked her out, but it licked its whiskers and got up, crossing the narrow space separating them to nudge her hand with its broad, furry muzzle. She laid a wondering hand on his skull and felt the rumbling vibration of the mother of all purrs coursing through him.

Oh, my God. It’s really Rafe
.

He stared up at her, amusement somehow clear in his feline expression. He looked like he was laughing at her, and the purr suddenly made Tess very suspicious.

“Get your chuckles while you can, buddy,” she warned, though she couldn’t stop her hands from stroking his thick, velvety pelt. “I’m going to get you for scaring me like that. You
will
pay for it.” 103

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He purred louder and a long, familiarly rough tongue swept out to lave the inside of her forearm while she learned the textures and planes of his new form.

He sat patiently before her while she stroked his head and shoulders, running her hands down his muscular back and legs. He felt like velvet-covered granite, muscles hard and solid under her fingers, even more powerful than they were in the man. She found out quickly that he purred louder when she rubbed the base of his ears or stroked his throat or the incredibly soft patch of fur on his chest and between his front legs. When she tried to pet his tail, though, he pulled it away and she found it quickly wrapped around her, flicking teasingly against her legs.

She let out a deep shaky breath and stepped backward, dropping her hands while she tried to register how huge he really was. The top of his head came up to her breasts, and if he were to stand on his hind legs, he would have towered over her. His paws were nearly the size of her head, and his forelegs were almost as thick around as her thighs. He was massive and very nearly terrifying. If she hadn’t spent all of last night with him, she figured she’d be running away screaming right now, for just about as long as it took him to chase her down and rip her throat out with those sharp, white teeth of his.

Tess took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to assume you’re here for some reason, like wanting to talk to me or something, but that’s a little difficult while you’re…um…furry, so how about you change back to normal and we can go somewhere for a nice cup of coffee. Or saucer of milk.” The jaguar Rafe butted his head against her breasts, which nearly sent her sprawling, and then took her coat sleeve delicately between his teeth. He tugged until she took a few steps forward, then turned and padded toward the back of the alley. He paused there, and turned to look back at her.

She rolled her eyes, gathered her courage and began to follow him. “If this is about Timmy being stuck in the damned well again, I’m going to turn you into a throw rug,” she muttered. “Just see if I don’t.” 104

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She heard a rumble that might have been laughter, but decided to ignore it as she followed Rafe deeper into the service alley. It was a darned good thing he knew where he was going, because Tess certainly didn’t and by the time they reached the end of the alley, she was following blindly. Reaching down, she buried her hand in the thick fur at the back of his neck and let him guide her around a corner and into another light-deprived alley. Occasionally they left the dark to dart across a street, but in general, they walked through the backside of New York all the way from her grandfather’s brownstone to Rafe’s modern apartment building. She noticed that this time, they didn’t use the front door.

Rafe stopped at an unmarked entrance at the rear of the building and jumped up on his hind legs to bat an enormous paw against the service bell.

Several seconds later, the door opened and a scruffy-looking young man wearing three days’ worth of stubble and a pair of dark blue coveralls opened the door and looked down at them. He didn’t say a word at the sight of a jaguar and a woman in heels and pearls standing at the door; he just stepped back and let them inside, holding out a key on a leather strap which Rafe politely took between his teeth. The jaguar stalked forward, easily navigating a narrow corridor to a dented set of elevator doors. He pressed the call button with his paw, and stepped inside the service elevator as soon as the doors dinged open.

Tess followed, shaking her head.

“I guess you do this all the time. I wonder if the building has a no pet policy?”

Rafe just sat on his haunches and watched her while the car climbed up to the twentieth floor. Three minutes later, they entered his apartment with the help of the key from the janitor. Tess actually took charge of that, snatching it from his mouth and fitting in the lock herself while she kept a weather eye on the other end of the corridor. She had every ounce of faith that Rafe could have handled it himself, but just then, she wanted the security of a private, secure space and she 105

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wanted it as quickly as possible. She shoved open the door as soon as the lock turned and darted inside, slamming it behind them.

“Okay, two feet, De Santos, right now. Because I want some answers, and an enigmatic King of the Jungle stare is
not
going to cut it.” She heard another rumble of that feline laughter, then the air seemed to shift and shimmer in front of her. One minute she was glaring down at a stubborn, three-hundred-pound jaguar, and the next she found out that the line of sight that put her eye-to-eye with the enormous cat put her eye-to-something-else-entirely with the equally intimidating man.

A naked, intimidating man.

Tess blinked, tore her gaze from Rafe’s impressive erection and found herself looking into a wicked smile as it spread slowly across his face.

“Oh, you’ll get answers,” he purred, and his voice sounded somehow even deeper and harsher than usual. “Right after I get what I want.” Tess’s eyes widened and she stepped backward, right into the edge of a very familiar console table. Jumping as if she’d been burned, she skittered out of Rafe’s path and began backing toward the living room. “Just what is it you want?”

His grin turned hungry and feral and savage. “Guess.” Then he pounced.

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Chapter Twelve

She darted away so fast she wasn’t quite sure how it had happened.

Apparently her instincts were quicker than the rest of her because she managed to slip just outside of his reach and go tumbling over the back of the sofa and onto the plush, art-deco-inspired carpet. Thank God the man didn’t have a coffee table.

She landed on the carpet with an
oof
!—and quickly rolled to her side. Before she could even get her legs under her he was on her, leaping over the sofa and landing lightly beside her before he climbed on top of her and busied himself with peeling her out of her coat.

“Layers! Why the hell do you always have to be wearing layers?” Tess sputtered and let him drag her coat off her arms and toss it aside because it gave her better leverage when she swung a punch at him. “None of your business! Now get your bloody hands off me, you jerk! I said I wanted answers, not a private screening of
When Creatures of the Night Attack
!” He caught the blow easily and grabbed both her wrists in one of his big hands, pinning them to the floor over her head. He ignored her struggles, slipping his free hand under the hem of her conservative knit dress and grabbing the waistband of her panties. “It’s all right,” he said, his tone casually cheerful.

“We’re running a special. Free attack before every conversation. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the show.”

His hand tightened and he ripped the panties off her, tossing them behind him, then began to push her skirt up toward her waist. Tess gave a strangled scream of frustration and tried to kick him, but he had already settled between her legs, so she wasn’t landing anything anywhere that would do her any good.

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He ignored the blows pelting the backs of his thighs and pushed her skirt the rest of the way up until it pooled at her waist and out of his way.

“If you lay a frickin’ hand on me, you asshole, I swear to you, I will—”

“Scream?”

He released her dress, shifted his body and plunged two fingers to the hilt inside of her.

Tess screamed.

Her head flew back and she found herself staring blankly up at the white plaster ceiling while her body arched and bucked under his hands. Those two fingers filled her full, reaching tender places that ached to be touched and making her flood his palm with thick cream. It stole her breath, leaving her aching for more. His fingers flexed and shifted, beginning to plunge in and out in a fast, relentless rhythm that made her desperate. His touch drove her crazy, but what she really wanted was his cock, big and thick and stretching her to the limits of endurance, then driving her hard over the edge. She forgot all about her irritation, her questions and her identity, other than as the body currently pressed to the floor beneath Rafael De Santos.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, thrusting his fingers deeper, flicking his thumb over her straining clit. “Christ, you feel good. Hot and tight and wet around my fingers. You’re dripping with cream for me. I want a taste.” She cried out again, almost in protest, but she didn’t fight when he released her hands and slid down her body until his shoulders pressed her knees wide apart and she could feel his breath on her damp, swollen folds. “Rafe!” He answered her with a long slow lap of his tongue, from one end of her slit to the other. She screamed and bucked under his steadying hands. The warm, rough texture of his tongue drove her crazy, driving her up the slope of arousal and leaving her panting for more. Her fingers flew to his head, burying 108

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themselves in his hair and holding him to her while his tongue dipped into her pussy and began lapping up her cream.

“Good,” he growled, voice sounding rougher and harsher with need.

“Sweet.” Lick. “Rich.” Nibble. “Hot.” Thrust. “Want more.” Tess gave him more.

She didn’t have a choice. Her body had taken over, no longer operating for herself, but for Rafe. She breathed, moved, existed solely for the pleasure he provided and for the moments when he would ease himself into her body.

“Please.” She tugged at his hair, trying to drag him away from her pussy and up over her. “Please, Rafe. I need you so badly.” He growled in answer and drove his tongue deep inside her. She screamed in pleasure, but it just made her redouble her efforts to pull him away. She wanted his cock inside her. Now. Before she died.

Desperate, she braced her hands on the floor and heaved herself backwards with all her strength, leaving an unsuspecting Rafe staring at her ankles and growling ferociously. His head snapped up and he glared at her, his golden eyes bright and savage with lust.

“No more playtime,” she panted, holding out a hand when he shifted to his knees and began to stalk toward her on all fours. She could see the echo of his jaguar self like a mirage shimmering behind him, and she shuddered, but she stood her ground. “If you want to lay a hand on me again, it better be
after
you’re inside me. Understand?”