Undercover Tiger: Sarge (BBW Paranormal Tiger Shifter Romance) (Undercover Bear) Read online

  I just had to get information from her. Maybe this was some of my detective instincts kicking in; getting her to trust me was the only way to the truth.

  And into her pants. Shit. No. I needed to stop thinking like that.

  I didn't agree with the guys. I thought she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But if they really thought that something else was there, I had to investigate it. My tiger didn't mind spending more time with Natasha either. He continued to claw at the surface, pushing me to the edge. On the car ride over, I noticed my hands shaking, like I was trying to control the beast inside. I had never felt like this before.

  I never wanted to be so close to someone so much.

  5

  Natasha

  I had just seen a dead body and now there was a gorgeous cop following me home. The man that was opening the door for me now was immaculately beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. But I knew that there could only be one of two reasons that he was there, and neither of them really had to do with me. It was either to protect me because I was now witness to a murder, or it was because he thought I knew more than I actually did. I had just found Mr. Berstein; I didn't know anything else. Sure, we were in some financial trouble, but I couldn’t imagine that the police didn't know that as well. Was this really one of my coworkers? Someone they had fired today that was angry enough to push Mr. Boston the stairs… I just didn't think I worked with any animals like that. I just couldn't figure out why anyone would take it that far.

  The detective held his hand open to me and I took it as I stepped out of my car. A surge of electricity went through my veins. What was it about him that made him so different? And those lavender irises, what made them so unique? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  “Well, this is it.” I said to him while he still held my hand between his. It was a moment longer than he should have, and we both knew it, but for some reason, I felt like neither of us wanted to let go. “Thank you for following me. I know that it's not really your job.”

  He let go. “It's not a problem. You just seemed really shaken up at the scene.” The scene. I had just been at the scene of a murder. How had this day gone downhill so quickly?

  “Well, it's the first time I’ve ever seen a dead body. And I really thought that I could help him…” Tears started to brim the bottoms of my eyelashes once again. But I took a deep breath and tried to hold them in. I didn't want him to see me fall apart yet again.

  “Well, ma'am, you have a good night. We’ll be in touch if we need anything further.” He tipped his head to me and began to walk away. But for whatever reason, I wasn't done talking to him yet.

  “Wait!”

  He turned around with a smug smile on his face. “Is there something else you remembered?”

  My mouth dropped open a little. What had I intended on saying to him? My brain couldn't seem to formulate the words. “No. It's just… Would you mind checking the house for me? If it turns out this really is tied to my job, a lot of people know where I live. I know that this is like, way out of line and totally unprofessional. But I would really appreciate it.” Most of that was a lie. Lydia was the only one at work who actually knew where I lived, except for probably the head of human resources. But for some reason, Giovanni just made me feel safer. Like with him around, nothing would happen to me. And there was also a large part of me that just wanted him to stay. To hold my hand again, to pay attention to me. Not just to see to the case. If this was a good way to get him inside, then I would use any tactic I needed to.

  “Of course! It's really no trouble at all.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't think I was completely crazy and pulled my keys out of my pocket, jingling them as I got to the door. Once inside, he checked every room with his gun extended out in front of him. I really convinced him that someone might be lurking in my house, and I felt a little bad about it.

  “Looks like it's all clear. Is there anything else?”

  I took my coat off and placed it in the kitchen where I usually did, dropping my keys in the bowl in the door. I had a routine; living alone did that to you.

  “Are you still on the clock?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Not really. My last task for the day was to make sure you got home safe. I'm on my way back to my hotel.”

  I pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge with two glasses. “Hotel?” I said as I poured one.

  “Yeah, I'm from Seattle. I'm just here visiting on business.” He carefully eyed the two glasses. “I know it was a bad day, but double fisting?” He laughed at himself.

  “I thought it was only right that I offer you one. But I didn't want to offend you if you’re still working.”

  “Well, now you know I'm not still working.”

  I poured the second class and offered it to him. “Now I do.” I walked through the opening and into my living room and sat down on the couch. I removed my shoes and pulled my feet up underneath me. Finally, I could relax.

  He followed me, taking in his surroundings. “Family?” he asked, pointing to a picture.

  “Yeah, that's my sister and my mom. My dad passed away when I was just a kid. It’s been us Three Musketeers ever since.”

  He nodded to himself, looking pensive for a moment.

  “I lost my father too. I understand what that's like. No siblings though, so it's just Ma and I.”

  “I'd say I'm sorry for your loss, but I know you've heard it a million times, and it doesn't make you feel any better. So I’ll say I'm glad that you have your mom instead.”

  He set his lips into a thin smile.

  Losing a parent was the most horrific experience of my entire life. And even though I had just seen a dead body for the first time, and as terrible as it was, it wasn't anything like losing the man that loved you since birth. My father had had a steady decline from cancer, and it took about two years in all. And in the end, he hardly recognized my sister or I; it made me physically ill to go see him. I just wanted to remember him as happy and healthy, not hooked up to tubes and machines in hospice. My mother had never remarried and my sister and I spent most of our time alone. I guessed we had some commitment issues, a fear of losing someone close to us. Not that many people would blame us.

  I watched as he continued to survey the room, sipping on his wine. It was nice to have a quiet moment. Neither of us felt the need to fill the space with words. Finally, he sat down in an armchair across from me, clearly creating a space between us. He needed to keep his distance to remain professional, and I got that. I wasn't going to push anything on him that he didn't want. But then he set down his wine glass.

  “So you live alone.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I've been here about four years. I had a roommate at the beginning, but it wasn't for me.”

  “So no husband or boyfriend?”

  I blushed a little; maybe he was more interested than he was letting on. “Nope. I guess I just haven't found the right guy yet.”

  He nodded, and it seemed like he was almost taking notes to himself. Must've been a cop thing.

  “What about you? Leave anybody back in Seattle?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m married to my work mostly. Besides, having someone at home makes it hard to go away like this.”

  “How long have you been gone?”

  He seemed to be calculating the math in his head. “A few weeks? Geez, I didn't even realize it’d been that long. We've been working on the same case for weeks, so my days just kind of blend together.”

  I knew I couldn't ask him about the case, so I just waited for him to add something else to the conversation. “But I like it here. It’s a nice city.”

  I nodded. “I'm from this area originally, but I moved away for college. I came back to be with my sister mostly; she's younger than me. She needs a mentor sometimes. She's a little reckless.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “And you're not?”

  I set my wine glass down on the coffee table. “You te
ll me. You’re the detective, right? I'm sure you understand the psychology of people's brains better than most.”

  He stood up and placed his hands behind his back, walking around the room again. “No, you're not reckless, you're calculated. You like to be alone; it's a choice, not a necessity. But it allows you to maintain control, and you value that. You love your family, but you’re separated from them. It's easier to keep your feelings in a box than to have them on your sleeve. You’re alone, but you’re not lonely. You probably have a few friends. You like to run, but you're not a workout freak. You're fine to sit at home and have a glass of wine on Friday night with a man you've never met before and simply enjoy the company of someone who is very much like you.”

  My eyes widened. “Impressive. How did you know I was a runner?”

  He nodded toward the kitchen. “You have running sneakers near the back door. They’re covered in mud, so I assume that you like trail running, or hiking. The way you’re built tells me you're light on your feet, so I'm going with a runner.”

  I nodded. “Good guess. I also used to dance. That's where this body comes from. You can't just give up strong legs after an injury.”

  “Injury?” he said as he sat back down in the armchair.

  “Tore my ACL during ballet. It ended my career. Two years later, I started running. I just couldn't stay cooped up anymore, and I had lots of extra pent up energy.”

  “Well, that’s something else we have in common.”

  “Sounds like we have a lot more in common than either of us realized.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “It does.”

  6

  Natasha

  I walked out to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge. I took a swig and then another, straight from the bottle. Liquid courage.

  I don’t know what about Giovanni made me feel like this, like suddenly I was reckless. Willing to do anything he said. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t me.

  But I didn’t care.

  When I emerged from the kitchen, I noticed his glass was empty.

  “Another round?” I offered, showing him the bottle.

  He nodded. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

  “Good,” I said, pouring the red liquid into his glass. He grabbed the glass and sipped from it as I filled my own.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said as he set down the glass. It was empty again. Geez. Maybe he needed the little buzz more than me.

  “Okay.” I didn’t know how else to respond.

  “I’m a shifter. Tiger, actually.”

  “That explains the purple eyes then, I guess.” Finally an answer.

  “That it does.”

  I took another sip of wine, “So? What does that mean?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, I mean, why would it? You’re a person, right? I mean you’re not going to like change here, are you?”

  He laughed. “I don’t think there’s even enough room. But no, I’m not going to change here.”

  “Does it hurt?” I had never met a shifter before. I had so many questions, and the wine made them seem okay.

  “Sometimes, if it’s forced. If he wants to come out, it’s pretty simple.”

  “He? You act like he’s another person. But he’s you, right?”

  “Kind of. I mean, he has his own personality, his own wants, and needs. But sometimes they match mine.”

  I was feeling way too ballsy. It was dangerous. “What is it that you want?”

  He eyed me carefully. “I shouldn’t.”

  I stood and set my glass down on the coffee table. Slowly, I approached him, and I dragged my finger down his arms. “You shouldn’t what?”

  “Want to kiss you.”

  “But you do?”

  He gulped. “Yes.”

  “Then do it.”

  “But we hardly know each other.”

  “I know, but somehow I don’t care.” That was the truth. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with him. For him to touch me again. To hold me close and keep me safe. I had no idea why I was so drawn to him, but I needed him. Everything about him drew me in. It was intoxicating.

  I leaned forward and placed my lips against his. He tasted like wine and coffee. My two favorite things. God, I wanted him.

  I pulled back, but he didn’t let me. He wrapped his hands around my face and pulled me into him. We continued to kiss. It felt so nice, warm and luscious like I was going to melt.

  He pushed against me and stood up. I removed his jacket, pushing it over his broad shoulders. “We shouldn’t,” he mumbled against me.

  “Give me one good reason,” I countered.

  “You could be a murderer.”

  That stopped me. “Do you really think I had something to do with that?” I was horrified. I backed away, with my hands up like I had been burned.

  There was fear in his eyes. “I don’t. But if you’re not, I need you to help me find out who did it. I need information. And I need you to get it.”

  “You’re sure I’m innocent?”

  “I know you are.”

  He was wrong. I mean, I wasn’t a killer, but I wasn’t innocent either. But I didn’t want him to know that. I needed him to believe I was good, honest. A woman worthy of his attention. I knew I was.

  “Then…”

  “Tell me you know something, anything.”

  “I don’t know much, but my officer partner, Lydia, she might know something. I’ll find out, but can we talk about this another time?” I needed him to say yes, to let this continue. To find out where it would lead.

  “I just needed to slow down for a moment, let you really think about this.”

  “I don’t want to think,” I said, throwing myself back at him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me as we kissed our way toward the back of the house. We stumbled into my bedroom, bumping into walls on our way there, and he slowly lay me down on my bed. I released my hold on him and laid back, feeling the sheets beneath me. I never made my bed; it was the one place I didn’t want to be in control. I could let go in here, my own space.

  “God, you’re beautiful. I’ve never wanted someone so much.” That made two of us. Thank God for wine.

  He kissed my neck and ran his fingers through my hair. My body lifted toward him in response. He ripped off his shirt and exposed rippling muscles beneath. A man in jeans and no shirt—there was literally nothing better for me. Nothing turned me on more.

  He put himself back between my legs and let his hands wander beneath my shirt, leaving his mark on my skin. I sat up as he tugged on my shirt, pulling it over my head. After tossing it to the side, he suckled and bit at my skin. It was like he owned me, and I liked it.

  His hands found the top of my pants and he yanked them down, exposing my matching set of black underwear. Once they hit the floor, he planted kisses on my thighs, trailing his fingers up and down my legs. Shivers ran through my body.

  “Oh my God,” I said in a raspy breath.

  He kissed the insides of my thighs, pulling aside my underwear and running his finger up and down my folds.

  “You’re so wet.”

  I knew I was. I had let my lust take over my body.

  He slipped a finger inside and my back arched in response. He slowly slid another inside and pumped me.

  Removing his fingers, he stood and removed his belt buckle. I watched as he dropped his own pants. “We need to get rid of those panties.”

  Instead of taking them off like I thought he would, he ripped them off instead. If this was what it was like to be with a shifter, then I never wanted to be with anyone else. He threw the fabric away from us and yanked my body toward his. He placed his rigid member inside me and I groaned in response.

  “God, you feel good.”

  He took either ankle in each hand and closed my legs in front of him. My feet hung over his left shoulder as he thrust into me. His pace was rapid, and within minutes, I was hanging on to the edge of an org
asm.

  “I’m gonna come,” I yelled out to him.

  He continued to push into me, and finally, I felt his warm seed fill me. My own orgasm began crashing down over me, my legs twitching in response.

  He released me and lay down next to me, curving his arm around my body. “I’m staying with you,” he whispered to me. And as I relaxed into him, I was so glad he was there.

  With him, I was safe.

  7

  Giovanni

  The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I felt through the darkness to find the annoyance and answer the call.

  “Hello?” I said groggily.

  “Gio, where the hell are you? I just drove by your hotel and your car wasn’t there. Did you stay watching the girl all night?”

  I looked at Natasha slumbering peacefully next to me. “Something like that.”

  “Captain wants you at the precinct. He wants to go over the witness statement and talk to us about how to move forward with the case. You up for that?”

  The splitting hangover headache that had just begun was telling me no, but I couldn't tell him that. “Yeah, yeah, I'll be there shortly. Make sure there's coffee.”

  I heard him laugh before he ended the call. I quickly got dressed and slipped out the front door before Natasha woke up. I wasn't sure how she would handle what had happened between us last night, but I knew that I didn't want to forget it. My tiger was on high alert though, as soon as I left her house, as his protective instinct had truly kicked in. The further I drove away from her place, the worse he got, growling and clawing at the edges of my inner soul. I needed a release. But first I had to go to the precinct and follow orders. I always did what I was told.

  It was just about dawn as I entered the parking lot to the precinct. There were only a few cars there, as well as some patrol cars coming in from the overnight shift. I walked into the conference room that we had been keeping secure as our headquarters for this case. Everyone else was already there. An empty chair sat with a cup of coffee in front of it; at least Logan had listened.