Page 40 of Tiger By the Tail

Curling up in Roy's strong embrace should have felt strange, but it didn't. Relaxing instantly, I shimmied closer and draped one arm across his ribbed stomach while resting my head on a cushy pec.

I must’ve dozed off, but later remembered bits of the evening. Soft lips that had pressed a kiss on my brow, Roy moving me so that my head was in his lap, a fluffy blanket being spread out over me and blunted claws combing through my hair. Hopefully I was imagining the noises of delight I'd made at that, but damn it had felt lovely.

Chapter Eighteen

Roy

I'd laid awake for a long time after tucking her in. Sliding in beside her had felt wrong and I was glad to be in my own bed. That didn’t help calm the turmoil in my mind, though.

My insides were in shambles. I was attracted to Kat, but that wasn’t the whole story. Yes, I craved her body, craved her taste, and longed to explore the minefield we were navigating, but talking about my brand with her had been amazing. I'd never had that before. Abbie had never been interested in my stuff. As a lawyer, she always said she had more important things to worry about than my stupid ideas.

Having adaptive clothes that properly fit our non-human bodies and accommodated our different physique, and meeting a huge demand serving not only felines but all kinds of mythical creatures, counted in that category forher. Still we had tried, and had been blown away by the response. APEX was my life, and Kat sharing it meant the world to me.

There had been a moment when I'd been about to kiss her, to devour her, before she'd stopped us. I wasn't mad. As much as I loved her taste, and her sweet lips pliable under mine, there was hardly anything better than being with her. No matter where we were, or what we were doing, she made me happy.

My heart had been way too elated at having her snuggle up against me, and listening to the sweet little sounds she made. I had petted her pretty hair, and had tried to smooth it out for her, tried to make her feel good. And I had whispered things… stuff I could never tell conscious Kat, but needed to get off my chest. When I’d pulled her up into my arms and carried her to bed, she’d snuggled her face into my neck, the feeling so beautiful that I stayed on my feet, kept her in my arms a little longer than strictly necessary just to be able to feel the soft trusting touch of someone I adored even though they did not share the feeling.

She was perfect and I? I was in no fit state to enter a new relationship. That was hard to accept but it was true.

Outwardly, I might look like a catch. Enough money to live comfortably, co-owner of two companies, but I had nothing to offer. I'd been sleeping on my office couch, my ex-girlfriend had assaulted me, and made sure that I had basically zero self-esteem, be it in or out of the bedroom.

Kat made it easy for me to let myself go. I knew I wasn’t really attractive to most females. Abbie had never gotten tired of letting me know exactly how unappealing I was. I had simultaneously been too much and not enough. Kat made me feel wanted for the first time in years. But she liked me as a person—that was probably why she put up with me, and why she’d blown me.

Closing my eyes did nothing but start the loop of Kat swallowing my cock down her throat. It had played all day, alternating with the clip of her coming on my tongue, when I’d been at the gym, at a meeting with my team, when I’d answered emails. I saw her clearly in my mind’s eye. Sitting on that dresser because taking her to bed had felt like too much too fast.

Her head had rested against the wall, her thighs caged my head between them while my tongue had been fucking into her tight heat.

Shit. I should have known better than to make myself hard again.

Tossing my body around in bed restlessly, I willed my cock to go down.

As if that’s ever worked, Roy.

I should have been grieving, not wanting to get busy with Kat at every opportunity that presented itself. That tiny glimmer of hope in my heart that she saw more in me than a welfare case would flicker and die. We were never going to be more than the poor rags-to-riches half Indian tiger wholet himself get beaten and bullied by his girlfriend and the woman who offered him help to get back on his feet.

***

Friday dawned way too soon. Past Roy would have slunk out of bed ninja-style, then dressed in complete silence and fled the flat. Abbie had told me off for staying in bed for too long in the morning, and starting the day with a row had never boded well for me. So it had become second nature to get out of bed at four thirty every morning. I got up and went to the gym to work out until I found it hard to move at all. An aching body had meant feeling anything at all, even if it was pain, and not just trying to survive the never ending numbness my existence had become.

I stayed put; it was my act of defiance.

Only a few more minutes.

At my meeting with Emilio the day before, I’d asked him to keep his ear open for more staff.

“Great idea, jefe,” he'd said with his sly half grin before confiding in me that he had already started looking.

“You're tired, no? You need a break.” Then he showed me the ArgoS account of a snow leopard-hybrid I vaguely recognised. It was full of training videos. He was young, but had great form and bite, I could see that in the short clips he shared. He'd bulked up over the course of three months, going from stringy to brawny. That kid would go places.

My employee had grinned at the look on my face, the flash of bright white canines making him look even better than usual.

“I knew you would like him, jefe. He's been working his tail off.” He'd pointed at the weights room. “Comes in every morning before class. Does MMA, too.”

I'd told him to schedule a quick job interview with Vaughn, but I already knew we were going to hire him. I trusted Emilio’s assessment. Good staff was hard to find, and his dedication impressed me.

Emilio had offered to cover for me, which meant I wasn’t needed at the ass-crack of dawn to open shop. I’d stretched myself way too thin, my two jobs being the ideal excuse to keep me from winding down enough to have to go anywhere near my feelings or the discomfort of existing in my own skin.

Before Abbie, and even during our first year or so of dating, I’d liked being me. People had lusted after me, they’d admired me, and I loved the attention.

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