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Kristina
I lay on the futon with the quilt Ray provided for me pulled up to my chin. It’s been a harrowing day, made especially shitty because of the constant need to watch for big, burly men with a glint of malice in their peepers, tailing us. The gun hidden among my belongings does nothing for me. It doesn’t even give me a false sense of security. When taking into consideration their experience over mine, I’ll get three to five bullets in me before I can fire one round.
Not looking forward to one-on-one with those assholes.
I shudder, tearing my train of thought from that scenario. For right now, I have other things to worry about. Although in a few hours the sun will rise, announcing the arrival of yet another day, I’m just settling in to—hopefully—get a few hours of sleep. But Ray’s cabin is drafty. I can clearly hear the wind picking up outside and I’m hoping the weather doesn’t take a turn for the worse.
Tiger and I have another twelve hours, with stops, until we arrive at Davenport and bad weather could seriously slow us down. We can’t afford to lose precious time. Not when Gerard’s men could catch up faster than we can get away.
I squeeze my eyes shut as a shiver runs down my spine. The threat of getting caught hardly ever leaves my head. It’s quickly becoming an obsession—one that can potentially save my life.
“What’s troubling you, Kristina?”
I open my eyes to find Tiger standing beside the futon. While Tiger showered, Ray had prepared a bed of sorts for him, consisting mainly of a mat, and several layers of comforters stacked on top of each other.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
Tiger steps closer and lowers himself to the floor. “You shivered?” As soon as his head touches the pillow, he reaches for the comforter left neatly folded on top of the coffee table to his left, and covers himself with it.
“A little,” I confess. And the best source of heat is bedding down on the floor, away from me.
The cabin has no fireplace, and the wooden stove in one corner of the room doesn’t keep the icy air from blowing in from between the cracks behind the couch. Even when I’m wearing as much clothing as I can pull on, I’m still cold.
Tiger, as perceptive as he is, has picked up on this and lifts the corner of the comforter. “Come in. I’ll keep you warm again.”
I’m tempted to say no, but my chattering teeth bring up a valid point. Cold and I do not mix well.
“You say it as if it’s some sort of chore or something,” I mutter under the quilt.
“It’s not a bother to me if it’s not to you.”
“Not at all.” I hurry over to him, and lie on my side. He covers us up before making himself comfortable next to me.
“Is this better?”
“Yes.”
His fingers find mine under the quilt, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Your hands are cold.”
“Just a little.”
Tiger’s hand disappears under the covers again, abandoning mine as it finds his sweatshirt and lifts the hem. “I can help.”
I look down and smile. “You can.”
His action brings forth a vivid memory of the first night we shared in Grandma’s truck. I saw him naked once, but seeing and touching are two very different things. I recall how those hard muscles felt, and how amazing the skin-on-skin contact was. The thoughts that have crossed my mind ever since are a little too explicit, and non-conservative.
Trying my best to brush the memory aside, I smuggle my hands inside his sweatshirt, under his shirt, and exhale in pleasure as I’m instantly gratified by the warmth radiating from his body. Therein lies the problem. I’m not the least bit bothered by how comfortable we are, or the intimacy we’ve shared, in spite of having just recently met. Why is that?
Yet instead of getting up and walking away, I do the exact opposite by exploring up his chest, gently caressing the washboard abs one by one as my fingers glide higher.
Tiger’s reaction isn’t one I expect. There is no hesitation in his eyes. No fear. Only perseverance as one arm draws me in, and pins me to him. Our faces are no longer separated by a distance of inches, but of millimeters. Nervous energy thrums through me as we lie so close to each other, our bodies molding together, and touching in places neither of us anticipated.
“Kristina?”
I struggle to keep my eyes from straying from his handsome features. He makes me extremely anxious, but in a good way. Meeting him eye to eye only adds to the conflicted emotions rushing through me all at once. “Yeah?”
“What do humans do in order to form bonds with one another?”
“Most people form bonds by talking and sharing things about their lives, families, interests. Spending quality time together is highly encouraged, too.”
“What about a male and a female he sees as a potential mate?”
I blink. “I...um, much of the same. Being honest, loyal, respectful, mindful of one another is just a short list of the things they both have to keep in mind in order to allow the bond to grow. Bonding is easy. Maintaining that connection, not so much.”
“What do you mean?”
“Breaking someone’s trust by lying or deceiving is one way to force him or her out of your life, even if that’s not your intention.”
When he doesn’t immediately respond, I begin to wonder what’s brought on the sudden silence. Did he understand what I just explained? Or is he trying to work up the courage to ask something else?
“Is this how friendships are born?”
“It depends. I used to believe people only made friends with those they had things in common with, but I’ve since changed my mind. You can be friends with anyone. The way I see it, the most important thing about a friendship is that you each like, trust, and value each other.”
“I already like you,” he whispers next to me.
“And I like you,” I concede.
“May I touch your face?”
It feels awkward for him to ask for permission to touch me when I have no problems at all putting my hands on him, but he’s keeping up with the standards I set.
“Go ahead.” I brace myself in anticipation of his touch.
Tiger reaches for me, fingers sliding gently over my lower jaw. I hold in my breath as the tips work their way up to my right cheek, where they linger a bit before moving toward my nose. I lose my ability to think then, completely captivated by the events of the moment. The rapid fluttering of my heart gives away my excitement.
It’s been a while since I shared any form of intimacy with a guy, but with each stroke of his fingers, I’m reminded of how good it is to be in the arms of someone as strong, handsome, and sweet as Tiger. He’s nothing like the guys I’ve dated before, and yet he’s no different. The fact that he’s not human seems irrelevant, and loses its meaning more and more as the days progress.
There’s so much emotion in those round orbs of his as he silently scrutinizes me. He was right when he said he reveals too much. Living the way he has, I can’t imagine there being many occasions for him to learn how to hide his feral side. But it’s his vulnerability that touches my heart. There’s a darkness to him too, the likes of which I probably don’t ever want to see, but I’m okay with this as long as I don’t get to experience any of it.
I have forced myself to accept him, but I’m terrified of the emotional ties developing between us. I’ve tried fighting off the closeness that seems to grow, inevitably, the more time we are forced to spend together, but in spite of the issues, we’ve found ourselves bonding and forming some kind of relationship, though I can’t say for sure what it is.
As his fingers outline my lips, slowly brushing over the plumpness with delicate care, desire blooms inside of me. It’s raw and uninhibited, and catches me completely by surprise.
“I don’t know what humans consider pretty, but to me you are beautiful.” His compliment is laced with sincerity.
“Tiger...” The words die out as his hands abandon my face and his forehead comes to rest against mine.
“I want to press my lips against yours.” The warmth of his breath caresses my face. “May I?”
Ever the gentleman, asking before taking. “Yes,” I whisper against him.
In response, he presses his mouth to mine, gently, carefully at first. Imitating my actions from before, Tiger’s lips move over mine, deliberately enticing me. I ball fists against his chest, the coldness I’d been experiencing moments before forgotten as his tongue invades my mouth.
Via our conversations I’ve come to understand he’s new to the art of seduction, but he’s a fast learner. One kiss and he’s mastered the ability to use this skill to arouse dormant physical needs in me, and a barrage of conflicted sentiments I’m not sure I want to deal with right this second.
“Tiger.” I tear myself from him, regretting the distance immediately. He’s so big, and agreeable, and warm, I’d gladly drown in the comfort of his arms forever, but we’re not alone and it’s inappropriate for us to engage in sexual activities while there’s another person one door down. “We have to stop.” I trace his lips with my index finger. “I’m sorry.”
Tiger tucks me underneath him as he lies half on top of me. “Why are you sorry?” He plants a soft kiss on my cheek, his nose tracing along the column of my throat as he shifts attention to my neck.
“I...uh...because...” Does he understand the concept of sexual frustration? Would he, if I explained it to him? Then again, he might be experiencing a bit of it himself—if that bulge in his pants is any indication. “Well...sometimes it can be very hard for a man to stop after...” I can’t go on. What do I mean to say? That he will find it hard to stop if we take things further? That would be hypocritical, considering how difficult it is for me to keep from groping at his clothes.
“Does it always feel like this? When a male and female...exchange...?” His breathing is a little tight, but that’s the only hint that’s he’s as affected as I am—aside from the physical signs.
“You can say man and woman. Between you and me, there’s only a man and a woman. Okay? And no, it doesn’t always feel this...special...when two people kiss. Only when it’s with the right person.” I chance a quick peck on his lips before adding, “Or when two people are really attracted to each other.”
“Like you and me?”
“Yes. Like us.” I smile. What point is it to deny something so obvious? “I guess there’s no denying that I’m attracted to you, too.”
“These feelings...they...are new to me.”
I bury my head in his shoulder. I can’t bear to look at his face anymore. There’s too much I can read there. Too much for me to interpret all at once.
“But...I like...what I feel. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt...human.” Surprisingly so, his words haunt me, along with the image of him locked in a room day in and day out. He hasn’t lived. He’s only existed. He’s been a slave all his life. A victim of greed, a prisoner of circumstance, a reflection of a human’s never-ending ambitious desire to play God.
Hearing him talk like this is mind-blowing. To realize that someone could go through so much and still show humility is incredibly humbling. And heartbreaking. “Tiger...I...” I look up at him. “You’re a wonder.” He’s incredible, really. He’s been through hell on earth, but rarely does he show it.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes, it is.” He inspires the best of feelings and emotions without even trying. I didn’t trust him in the beginning, but he’s quickly worked out all the misgivings from me. “I’m glad we met.”
“So am I.” His lips brush my temple. “I’m grateful to have had these spare moments with you. In truth, these past few days have shown me that not all humanity is evil or determined to kill and destroy. There are good people left. And I have good memories to erase the bad ones with.”
I think my heart breaks. “Don’t you have any fond memories growing up?”
“No. My first memory was of being dragged into a bathroom, where I was doused in cold water for hours for disobeying a command from Gerard. I was four years old.”
A lump forms in my throat. “That’s awful. How can someone do something so terrible to a little kid?”
“Cruelty is all I’ve ever known. It’s all I thought the world was made of, until I met you.”
He’s pulling on the strings of my heart and he doesn’t realize it. Undoubtedly, I’m broken about Tiger and what has been his life, up until recently. “Then it’s not worth bringing up the past. To be honest, I’m scared of the uncertainty the future holds for us right now, but it’s not like we’re ever certain of what tomorrow will bring, anyway. Of course, not many people have to worry about having the threat of impending doom looming behind them, but...I’d like for you to have a little peace while you’re out and with me. For starters,” I touch the side of his face, feeling along his left cheekbone, “I think we should think about giving you a real name. Not call you by whatever Gerard chose. What do you think?”
“The idea appeals to me.”
“Do you have any in mind that you like?”
He furrows his brow. “None.”
“What if I pick one for you?”
His expression softens. “I’d like that.”
I look into his eyes, what little I can see of them, and think on names I’ve heard in the past that I liked. One stands out from the rest. A few years ago, when I was away at college, a friend of mine recommended this paranormal romance novel that I fell in love with and the hero’s name was Hayden. As I think of the similarities between that fictional character and Tiger, I find there are many.
The fictional hero was a lost soul looking to redeem himself for his past sins. Though I’m not caught up with Tiger’s past, he’s running away from the wrath and violence in which he was raised, and forced to abide by, for his entire life.
“Hayden. I like Hayden. I think it suits you.”
He reaches for my hand and brings it up to his face. Starting with the index finger, he plants kisses on each and every one.
“This name, it has a special meaning for you?”
“It kind of does.”
“Then it’s settled. I’m Hayden from now on.” He lets go of my pinky and shifts so that he’s lying on his back. “Kristina, will you rest your head on my shoulder?”
Honestly, I love that he’s so incredibly polite. For a young man, he’s a lot more genteel than most guys I’ve met, including my ex-boyfriend. It’s incomprehensible how an upbringing like his could lead to someone with Tiger’s—Hayden’s—well-mannered disposition, but all in all I’m happy that I’ve gotten the chance to meet him.
Providing Hayden with the closeness he covets, I lie down and rest my head on his right shoulder. Draping both my arm and leg over him, I close my eyes and let the sound of his even breathing lull me to sleep.