Big Bad Bite Read online

  “Not if I can help it. Point in case would be; the only time I use the word seriously is to compliment a woman. Such as, you have a seriously nice ass, Jenna. And I would seriously like to see it naked and gyrating about two inches from my face. Other than those kind of references, then the word serious, and all of its derivatives, are struck from my vocabulary. It’s a life principal for me.”

  “You’re a hopeless pervert, Kent.”

  “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, pretty girl. I’m a hopeful pervert.”

  He decelerated long enough to make an abrupt turn off the highway onto a paved two-lane road before flooring the gas pedal again. It made her wolf nervous and agitated to be in a car that was flying down the road at close to 130mph, and not be in control of that vehicle. Kent was oblivious to the fact that her body was starting to tremble from the efforts of holding back a shift. Thankfully, he was also in the dark that she had practically crushed whatever part of the chair frame that her left hand was holding onto while her right hand tightened the grip she had on the door’s handle until that too broke off.

  He cockily continued. “My current hope is that you don’t choose that over-grown mutt, McPhee, when you could have something so much better. Me.”

  Jenna was so concentrated on keeping her wolf in check that she could no longer tell where they were, or how far they had driven, before he slowed the car down enough to turn into the beginning of a driveway that looked to be a million miles long with the tunnel vision she was currently suffering through. Her breathing was sawing in and out of her chest roughly by the time he finally stopped the car in front of a sprawling moss green house.

  Still unaware that Jenna was so close to shifting; Kent parked the car and shut off the powerful engine. “Let’s go, my growly gumdrop. Our host is awaitin’.”

  The sounds of his door opening and closing were the last things she heard before losing the fight with her wolf. Her animal instincts were already in overdrive as the bones in her body started to morph. Her arms and legs shortened, while a subtle pain thrummed throughout her entire body as her jaw started to lengthen out into her muzzle. By the time Kent reached her door to open, her wolf was springing out of the car and directly for him.

  She wasn’t able to jump very far since the upper half of her sleek black body was trapped in her shredded t-shirt, but she was able to catch him unaware. Her teeth connected with the small amount of loose denim on his thighs, directly under his groin, and held on. With her head tilted back enough to make eye contact with him, her nose was pressed up into the man’s favorite organ, just enough to let him know she missed on purpose, and for added effect, she bared a bit of fang and growled at him. Kent’s body froze. One of his hands still had a tight grip on the car door while the other was in the air as if trying to show her that he meant no harm.

  “Does this mean my hopes are dashed and you want McPhee after all, my furry little firecracker?”

  A masculine laugh rumbled behind them from the direction of the house, “Is it possible Kent, that there’s finally a woman on this planet you can’t sweet-talk into doing what you want? I’ll have to make sure and mark this day on the calendar. Matter fact, give me a second to get my camera phone up so I can take a picture of this or Alec will never believe it when I tell him.”

  All of Jenna’s animal instincts screamed at her for leaving her back unprotected. There was a possible threat in the stranger behind her, so whether she felt Kent had learned his lesson or not, she was going to have to let go so she was no longer in a vulnerable position. She clamped her canines just a tad tighter, shaking her head from side to side to jostle him, and growled warningly. It was one last attempt to let Kent know,she was not someone to fuck around with.

  “Alright! Alright, my angry angel. No need to threaten the better parts of me. I’ll be a good boy from now on. Promise.”

  She slowly unclamped her teeth, and then turned to the side so that one-half of her body was tucked next to the car and she could now see both Kent and the massive stranger who was leaning against the open doorway to the house. There was no other way to describe him than to say he was huge. It wasn’t just that he was tall, because she was getting used to being around tall men such as Adam, Uncle Owen and her brother Logan, who all stood at just a smidge over six feet. Hell, even Kent was still tall to her and he stood a couple of inches under six feet. No, it was that this stranger probably topped out at close to six foot four inches and was built like a flippin’ tank. Even if his shirt had not been tight across his body, it would have been impossible to miss his defined chest, trim waist, broad shoulders, and bulging biceps. He made Kent’s well-sized swimmer’s build look damn near puny, and he had what she would guess to be at least thirty pounds of muscle over Adam’s built frame. She felt as if he should be required to wear a t-shirt that said ‘Here Stands Goliath’ in large, bold print letters for any of the half blind morons that didn’t initially see him coming.

  It wasn’t just that his body from the neck down sent out that dangerous vibe either. He had a face that could have been the example picture for the word ‘serious’ in the ‘How to Spot An Alpha Male Manuel’; right in between the entries for ‘domineering’ and ‘violent’. All entries she was quite positive he would star in. She wouldn’t be surprised, however, if the words ‘sensual’ and ‘virile’ could also be applied.

  He wasn’t handsome in a pretty boy sense. His features were too harsh for that. No, he was rugged. Now that she was utilizing all of her wolf’s senses, and Goliath only stood thirty feet away from her position, she caught a peculiar scent wafting her way on the gentle air currents. His unique scent consisted of grass, a woodsy smell like tree bark, and something else that made the muscles in her nose twitch in agitation. Before she could help it, she sneezed. Her head shaking involuntarily to try to clear the stinging sensation that followed. She had the overwhelming urge to lie on the ground and cover her nose to help cover some of the annoying smell, but she managed to keep herself from doing it.

  When her eyes focused on the source of the unknown smell again, it was to find him grinning at her. She’d bet her favorite rifle that most women would drop their panties at that smile. Hell, if they were inebriated they probably did more than drop their drawers. They probably dropped to all fours and presented tail to be mounted. However, Jenna saw more in that smile than human women would ever see. She saw the hints of his animal nature shining through. The one-sided tip of his lips might indicate amusement, but his eyes were wary. They held the look of a hunter, the kind of hunter that excelled in the art of patience and always caught its prey. She may not know what he was yet, but there was no doubt in her mind that when it came to this man, she was undeniably the prey.

  Buzz cut jet-black hair topped off a face where piercing golden-yellow eyes with a ring of rich green around the pupils watched her with eerie intensity. Wide cheekbones framed a slightly crooked nose that looked as if it had been broken one too many times, and those sat over a strong square jaw that was only slightly softened by the full bottom lip that was entirely too kissable. Hell, she was having a hard time deciding if she was supposed to be scared shitless of him, or drop into a melted puddle of goo of lust at his feet. He didn’t pack quite the punch to her libido that Adam did, but the man was nothing to sneeze at either.

  Well, scratch that, she had technically sneezed, hadn’t she? So that single fact amped her curiosity into suspicion. Jenna may not have encountered many shifters, and she’d yet to encounter any kind of feline or bear shifters, but she was betting it wasn’t a bear that would make her senses agitated. More than likely, Goliath was some kind of feline. He didn’t smell like any kind of feline she had met in her life, which summed up to a handful of ordinary domestic cats from neighbors in her small hometown that went totally spastic if she came within twenty feet of them. After poor old Mrs. Boggmeyer’s cat had flipped its shit, and then promptly died of a heart attack, when she’d simply walked by the owner’s car as it was sitting in the gro
cery store parking lot, Jenna had gone out of her way to avoid all pet felines. It sucked giant silver bullets that she’d accidentally killed someone’s beloved pet just by being herself on an everyday errand. She tried to avoid the possibility of that ever happening again as much as she could. Otherwise, if it ever happened again and someone found out about it, they might label her SCK, ‘Serial Cat Killer’.

  The point of this whole inner mental tirade was this; apparently giant shifter felines did not smell anything like your everyday house cat. The closest you could probably get to having the two species smell similar was if you talked some feline shifter into rolling around in mass quantities of catnip, and wouldn’t that be funny as hell to see?

  Goliath’s full sexy lip parted from its top counterpart as he began to speak, “I’m guessing your cute little wolf pup there won’t have any clothes to change into since she hasn’t shifted back yet?”

  Kent shook his head ‘no’. “If you shifters were ruled by the moon phases like all of those ridiculous legends say, then I would ask if it was that time of the month. I have no idea why she went all big-bad-wolf on me.”

  “I’m sure it was your charming personality, Kent. After all, from what I understand she wouldn’t be the first woman to go homicidal on you after being in your company for a period of time.”

  “Very funny, you oversized Garfield. Can we come in now? The sooner we get Little Miss Howling over here properly covered, the sooner we can get on to the good stuff.”

  “Come on, demon. Bring your puppy into the living room while I get her something to cover up with.” Goliath turned and headed into the house. His easy demeanor brought home the point that he didn’t consider Jenna or Kent to be threats. If she wasn’t so fascinated about the man, she might have to admit that he scared her stupid.

  She followed Kent through the front door and into an extremely open floor plan. If she had to guess, she would say that it was at least fifteen hundred square feet that basically translated into what an ample sized living room, dining room, and kitchen would look like with no walls to separate them. It was, in essence, one large rectangular room with four columns, offset in two pairs situated a third of the way into the room from either end. Each column had been designed to look like the trunk of a tree, complete with tree bark. Those tree-like columns not only connected to the vaulted ceiling above that sported several skylights, but they also had thick branch-like looking beams that ran width wise to the front and back walls of the room. The only reason those beams didn’t look one hundred percent authentic was because of the fact that they ran in a straight line back and forth to the walls, and well, no tree branch would ever be that perfectly aligned. The work was beautiful, but Jenna wondered why Goliath had gone through so much trouble to have such elaborate work done on his house. The attention to detail on the ‘branches’ and ‘trees’ was ridiculously accurate.

  Red mahogany hardwood flooring ran from one end to the other, and the walls were painted a rich fern green with a white trim. The overall effect from the flooring, tree-like columns, branch-like beams, and green walls gave off a feeling of being miles deep in a forest, instead of under the roof of a house. On the left was a set up for the so-called living room, with furniture sturdy enough for a giant to sit on. There was one couch, one chaise lounge, and something that looked like a cushioned base for a couch, but with no backing whatsoever. It was upholstered in a rich chocolate fabric, and all of the pieces looked comfortable enough that whoever crashed on them might not want to get up for the next millennia or so.

  The long back wall of the house featured two sets of French doors, each on opposite ends of the expansive room. One set was off the living room while the other set was off of the L shaped kitchen, with three large windows in between them. With all of that glass, it gave an almost uninterrupted view of the land behind the house. Jenna didn’t think she could live that comfortably being so exposed. Anyone within line of sight of those windows would be able to see practically every move made within the room. It was a rather stark reminder that this Goliath-sized shifter feared practically nothing, and to be honest, that was enough to scare the shit out of her. It was the law of the wild that for each predator, there was always a bigger, badder predator behind it. Apparently, Goliath thought he was the end of that line.

  A variety of color drew her eye to the front wall, turning her head to look in that direction she saw several shelves filled with items. It seemed as if half of the items were similarly painted to match each other. There were bowls with spoons sticking out of them, candleholders, and round platters. The most eye-catching pieces though were the Russian nesting dolls. There were six of them, with the largest looking like it was approximately a foot tall. Naturally, each doll was a little smaller than its predecessor until the last doll looked like it was maybe six or seven inches tall. Between the platters, bowls, utensils and dolls, it created an extremely vibrant wall.

  Each piece was painted black with hints of red, orange, yellow, and green. Looking at the dolls, her brain started working overtime trying to figure out what the hell was bugging her about them. Something was off. It took Jenna a few minutes to finally figure out what was missing on the dolls. They didn’t have the pale, round human faces that were customary. Instead, they featured the faces of tigers. The largest tiger face was smiling in a coy way. The next doll down showcased a snarling tiger face. The third had a decidedly fascinating depiction of what a tiger’s face looked like in contemplation. The final three dolls had youthful, fun faces, which led you to believe they represented children. The only doll that was different was the largest, childlike doll, which had a white tiger’s face with blue eyes, instead of the standard orange face of the other dolls. She was, in turn, utterly fascinated and equally disturbed at the implications of these dolls.

  It was one thing to guess that you were in the presence of a larger predator. It was another thing entirely to KNOW that you were in the presence of a larger predator. One that, based on his size in human form, Jenna was guessing was on the bigger spectrum of what feline shifters could weigh in at. Since she ran on the smaller side, her wolf was smaller than her human form. His tiger would be at least double his human form, if not triple it. He could not only take her down easily, he could swat her away as if she were an annoying bug. She suddenly got why wolves tended to hunt in packs. She found herself wishing that someone other than one of her family members were there to have her back.

  She was wishing Adam was there.

  Now wasn’t that a scary realization to her inner, overly independent, I-am-woman-who-will-never-need-a-man-so-hear-me-roar, feminine badass self?

  The sudden addition of Goliath’s smell had her turning her head back to face the living room, only to find the cause of the annoying smell to be standing less than four feet from her. The shock of seeing him so close without having heard him moving damn near made her shit herself. Of course, since she wasn’t wearing pants she should be more worried about the mess that would make on Goliath’s floor. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

  The smug smile on his face let her know he was well aware that he had unnerved her with his sneaky cat routine, and enjoyed the hell out of ruffling her fur. He held out a bundle of clothing towards her mouth.

  “Here you go sweetheart. If you’ll take the clothes, then head down that hall, the guest bathroom is the first door on the left.”

  Jenna grabbed the bundle gingerly with her teeth before turning left towards the hall just past the living room. Following the light-footed giant’s instructions, she found that there was indeed a door ajar to a decent sized bathroom featuring a toilet, sink, and an over the sink mirror that she could use. Walking into the bathroom, she used her head to shut the door before she placed the bundle of clothing on the floor and started the process of shifting back to her human form.

  The moment she stood on two feet again, naked as a jaybird, she let loose a sneeze that could have blown another person’s body over with its intensity. Who knew
she’d be allergic to cats? It might not seem ridiculous if she’d been allergic to Mrs. Boggmeyer’s fifteen pound tuxedo tom cat, but to be allergic to a feline shifter instead? Well that just seemed to defy the definition of bizarre. Of course, for all intents and purposes, Jenna’s existence defied the definition of bizarre, so why should she be surprised?

  After blowing her nose into some toilet paper, she unfolded the bundle of clothes only to stop short at the contents. Staring in a state of what she could only describe as horrified fascination at the black spandex mini skirt paired with a golden orange tank top that had an exaggerated tiger stripe pattern down the front of it. Guess that was the overwhelming evidence she needed, combined with the Russian nesting dolls in the living room, to know for sure that she was clearly dealing with a tiger shifter. With jerky, angry movements, she dressed in the small bits of fabric that some other woman had called clothing. Thankfully, Jenna ran on the small side so the tank top was a tad loose and fell down to her curvy hips instead of the intended target of the waistline. Which was a supreme blessing considering the teeny, tiny skirt, even when pulled indecently low on her waist, barely seemed to cover her ass, which she had a considerable amount of. Matter of fact, looking at herself in the mirror, she loathed to actually call it a mini skirt. It was comparable to shiny black plastic wrap sealed to her skin two inches below her belly button and dropping just inches past the vee of her thighs while clinging to her every curve in between.

  She’d dealt with a lot of bullshit being a petite woman working in the testosterone minefield known as law enforcement, but this outfit was worse than the ones her co-workers had picked out for her when she went undercover as a hooker! If this whole debacle had been a science experiment on comparing similarities of the males between humans and her kind, she would have had a clear answer. Apparently it didn’t matter if you were human or Other, all men were dogs. Hell, at this point, if aliens landed in front of the house she’d bet it would only be because they still thought ‘earth girls were easy’, and that would just prove they were dogs too.