Trusting the Tiger: BBW Tiger Shifter Paranormal Romance (15 page)

***

They lay on the bed together, sweat cooling on their entwined bodies. Toni had never felt so contented – so safe. The world, for the first time in a long time, seemed to offer adventure rather than worry and frustration. And it was no longer something that she would have to face alone.

She stared up at Jack’s face, blissful and contented in repose. But his eyes were bright, a gleaming gold in the darkened room. “I know what you’re thinking,” she teased.

He looked down at her and she almost lost herself again in those deep, hot pools. “Well?” he prompted her after a minute. “You were saying…?”

Ah. Maybe not
almost
, then. She blushed. “Well, I know what you’re thinking
now
, now. But a minute ago—”

“Five minutes ago—”

Toni laughed indignantly and rolled on top of her lover, pinning his arms to the mattress with her knees. “
A
minute ago, you were thinking – this is a happy ending. The happiest ending.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Weren’t you thinking the same thing?”

“No. And what’s more, you’re wrong.” She leant down, her breasts brushing against his broad chest, her face only inches from his. “This isn’t the
end
of anything. It’s the beginning. The beginning of
us
. Of happiness, of adventures – of our life together.”

“Together. I like the sound of that,” Jack murmured, his eyelids flickering against Toni’s cheek. “Almost as much as I love you.”

With that settled, they both thought very hard about what the best way to commemorate this new beginning might be. And after they had decided the best way to mark the occasion – and marked it a few more times – they fell asleep.

Outside the window, a silvery new moon cast its light over Jack and Toni’s forest, and the world in which they would spend their lives together. Not a perfect world, not a safe one – but a world they could face, together.

***

A note from Zoe Chant

Thank you for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to be emailed when I release my next book, please
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to be added to my mailing list.

Please click on the title to write a review of
Trusting the Tiger
. I love hearing what my readers think! It helps me decide what to write next.

Page down to read a special sneak preview of
Hollywood Tiger
.

The cover of
Trusting the Tiger
was designed by Olivia Grey.

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Hollywood Tiger

By Zoe Chant

Special Sneak Preview

Ho-ly
shit
.

In all his years of investigative reporting, Dennis O’Keefe had never been part of a sting. Until now. But nobody had told him that it would be boring and irritating by turns, spending a lot of time with an asshole like Jerome Haskell and his muscle, big blond Hank, while pretending to swallow these bozos’ bullshit.

By today he was really hating this job—until the hottest distraction in North America began shimmying her way toward him, hips damn-near humming in the wind.

The room was full of attractive women, and he’d been trying to stave off boredom by looking at every one. He really liked women, all sizes and colors and types. But after that one in the slinky black dress had walked into the bar, the others could have turned into crows and flapped away for all he noticed.

He couldn’t stop watching her. It was like somebody had dug down into his brain and yanked out his oldest wet dreams: she had thick, tightly curly hair the color of chocolate clouding around her face. Her halter top molded a magnificent pair of breasts and the rest of her dress slithered over hips generously curved enough to make a dead man sit up and sing.

And she was shaking those hips. Right. At. Him.

As he tried to swallow past the balloon animal that had suddenly taken up residence in his throat, she gave those incredible hips a double roll and a flick—
badoom!
—that sent fire shooting from his eyeballs down to the boys in his suddenly tight pants.

He sat back in his chair, sucking in a breath to cool off. But she just kept coming, rolling and shimmying until he’d swear smoke was rising off her. Or maybe it was steaming out his ears.

What was she up to?

Hank was still dancing with one of the skinny women partying hearty across the room. Dennis sent a quick look at Haskell, who seemed criminally oblivious to those clashing beads and dancing tassels, as he leaned in to talk at the sour-faced woman Haskell had introduced as just ‘Patrice.’

Was Patrice part of the scam? Or how about the amazing belly dancer? But Dennis hadn’t been asked to do anything about Haskell’s minions, male or female. His job was to play Daniel Moore, a rich dork eager to invest his millions in a major motion picture.

But first he was going to enjoy every moment of the show. Another reason to despise Haskell—didn’t the bastard have enough taste to acknowledge real art when it was gyrating so awesomely right in front of him?

Dennis shifted, glad the table cloth hid his lower half as he tried to ease the tightness growing down south. He watched as the belly dancer kept gallantly dancing and twirling around Haskell. Dennis wished he could say, “Don’t waste your talents on that prick—the only thing he appreciates is dollar signs.” The guy didn’t even seem to be trying all that hard to get traction with Patrice, judging by the way she sat there, her drink untouched, her lips clamped tight.

With a clatter of beads and a mesmerizing swing and sway of those tassels dipping down low in front, the belly dancer circled back around Haskell the other way. Dennis felt his tiger wake up inside him as the tassels brushed gently over her black silk-covered mound. Wow. She was sexier fully clothed than the nearly-naked super-skinny pole dancers that Haskell had insisted on them watching the night previous, when they’d met in East Hollywood for their previous investment meeting.

Dennis sipped his drink, mentally stuffing the tiger back down deep inside. But then he nearly inhaled the ice cubes when she twirled, the skirt flaring, affording a glimpse of curvy, dimpled thighs.

He crossed his legs the other way, trying to keep Willie and the boys from ripping out of his pants like some Marvel comic guy.

The song ended. Just as well. Another minute and he’d be tent-poling the table.

“I gotta see to something, Danny,” Haskell said to Dennis, flashing a lot of dental whitening at him in a big, fake smile. “Have another drink. On me.” He must have seen the annoyance that Dennis was trying to hide because more teeth showed. “Trust me, I’ll make it worth your time. And it won’t take long.”

“No,” the scowling Patrice said below her breath. “It won’t.”

Haskell didn’t react—he might not have heard, or he didn’t bother to listen as he held out his hand and the rigid-shouldered woman walked away with him.

Dennis signaled to the waiter, and in a spirit of petty revenge, ordered the most expensive Scotch on the list. The clusterfuck that was this sting could be rescued if he could watch the mystery woman in the sexy black halter dress. Even his tiger liked that idea, and Dennis had to grin.

Except where was she? He leaned forward and looked more carefully at the party women. Definitely AWOL. Maybe she had to make a pit stop. Sure was getting to be a long one. She couldn’t have wrapped it up for the night?