Page 7 of Tucker's Strike

Fuck me. The thought has my cock stiffening all the more. Which is exactly what I don’t need it to be doing right now.

“I have a right to know your name, considering you were in my home when I got here.” She huffs, cheeks turning a cute little blush color as she crosses her arms in front of her.

My eyes go straight to her chest as her movement pushes up her tits, putting them further on display. The top she’s wearing isn’t overly tight, but it is low cut and shows off the cleavage she has.

“Eyes up here, bucko,” she snaps and cocks her hips.

I give her my eyes once again, a grin tugging at my lips. “You put it on out there, I’m gonna look, my little Fae.”

“Little Fae?” Her cheeks brighten further. “I’m not your little anything.”

“Oh, but you are. You’re my mate,” I tell her, not beating around the bush.

“I’m not your mate,” she snaps rather than demanding to know why I keep saying that or what it means.

Which confirms she knows about shifters.

“You are my mate,” I state sternly, reaching for her.

Unfortunately, she jumps back before I can do so and steps farther away. Far enough so, I’m not able to touch her or feel her closeness. The scent of her still lingers in my nostrils, toying with my senses.

“Stop saying that. I’m not your mate, damnit,” she declares, stomping her foot. “You need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving,” I growl, my tiger demanding I force her to submit. The defiance I see in her riles the beast in more ways than one. “Whether you believe me or not, I’m your damn mate. I know you know what shifters are and what it means to be a mate.”

“How would you know I know that?”

The way she drops her arms and plants them on those hips of hers . . . fuck . . . she’s a beauty. I want nothing more than to sink my fingers in her hair, hold her still, and claim those lips. To hear her moans as I kiss her deep and thoroughly. To hear her plead for more than just my mouth touching hers, plundering her mouth as I want.

Fuck. I need to quit thinking like this before I end up losing control. The last thing I need to do right now is scare the hell out of my mate.

“Because you saw my stripes and didn’t freak. You saw the tiger inside me and looked at me like I was any other person. I’m willing to bet the shifter who gave you that night light of yours was a tiger shifter.” My question is, who was the shifter? There’s no scent of a shifter on her, just on that night-light.

“So what?” she snipes, lip curling, but I notice the way her eyes dilate and her nostrils flare. The fear licks at my skin as it reaches out to me.

Interesting.

Taking a step toward her, she moves back. We do this until I back her against the counter dividing the small living space with the kitchen. “Tell me your name, little Fae.”

My mate stares up at me with those wide eyes of hers, licks her bottom lip, and gives me the answer I was waiting for. “Lake. My name is Lake Wildthorn.”

What I didn’t expect was her last name. I hadn’t heard the Wildthorn name in years. Not since the death of my family and the alliance between the Wildthorns dissolved. All that had been left was me, and there was no female to select.

Fate is one cruel bitch when she wants to be, and this goes without saying, she’s got one twisted mind with the games she’s playing. However, knowing what that game is, is a whole other ordeal. My mate has the Wildthorn last name. A tiger shifter name. But she’s not a tiger. She’s a Fae, half Fae. Everything grows more interesting by the minute.

Chapter Five

Lake

“What’s your father’s name?” Tucker asks as he lets me go, taking a step back.

I open my mouth to protest his movement rather than to answer him. The sudden loss of his heat leaves me chilled. It takes me a moment to think about his question, and there’s no way I’m answering it. I don’t know this man, this shifter. I can’t trust him with the answer he’s looking for. It’s bad enough I told him my last name.

“That’s none of your business,” I finally manage to say. Pushing away from the counter he backed me into, I ignored the need for him to be close and focused on the fact he was a stranger to me.

But he called me his mate, which scares me even more because I do know what it means. I know it means I’m fated for him as only no other can be. Still, I don’t understand.

“Lake, what was your father’s name? I won’t ask you again.” He growls, teeth bared, eyes narrowed to gold little slits, hands planting themselves on his hips.

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