his canines dropping as his mate’s scent dispersed. “Get her name and number, and I’ll contact her later.”
He shrugged off the male’s grip and surged through the crowd, losing sight of his prey. She’d disappeared into the herd, camouflaged by the common color scheme. Nikhil chased her natural fragrance blindly, clinging to that fragile trail, unable to see her. Panic seized him, twisting his stomach into tight little knots.
I can’t lose her. I can’t . He opened his mouth to better capture the scent, to reduce the likelihood of his mate eluding him. Nikhil prowled along the busy bar, guests gathering around the watering hole, and her fragrance grew stronger.
A professional football player at the end of the bar threw back his head and laughed, drawing Nikhil’s attention. As the athlete lumbered away, a smile on his broad face, the source of his amusement was revealed.
The woman sat with her head bowed, the purple streak in her almost-white hair hiding her face. My mate . Nikhil purred with happiness, his beast appeased, his intellect returning. She’d perched her lush body on the tiny barstool, the hem of her skirt riding upward, exposing endless expanses of curvy calves and thighs.
“Is this seat free?” Nikhil placed his palm on the black vinyl, claiming the coveted spot beside her.
“No.” She gazed up at him, her violet eyes framed by dark eyelashes, their brilliance as shocking as a punch to his gut. He sucked in his breath sharply. “It comes at a price.”
“Whatever that price is, I’ll pay it.” As Nikhil slid onto the barstool, one of his knees brushed hers, and a hum of awareness reverberated up his thigh, over his groin, his cock hardening, his tiger rolling playfully inside him.
“You already have.” Her lips curled into a secretive smile.
The bartender placed a cup and saucer in front of him, indicating it was for him. Nikhil lifted the cup and sipped the tea, the flavor soothing and familiar, the grassy notes mixing with an undertow of malty spice. “How did you know Indian white was my favorite, goddess?”
An intriguing flush crept across his mate’s cheeks. “How did you know who I was?”
Do I know who she is ? Nikhil perused his plus-sized beauty, his gaze pausing on her trembling lower lip, her generous bosom, her legs so close to his. She was a stranger. He’d remember meeting such a gorgeous, intriguing female. His tiger would never forget her scent.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She covered her smile with her hands. A tattoo of entwined violets circling one pale wrist. “You don’t know who I am, do you, Mr. Baagh?”
“Call me Nikhil, please, and I know who you are,” he bluffed. She made a mistake. She thinks I should know her . His mind spun while his body ached. Gods, I want to know her .
“Then who am I?” his goddess dared, twining a violet strand of hair around her finger, the tendril’s color matching her eyes, matching the flowers in her tattoo… matching the font of the code his mysterious hacker had changed.
Mate became prey and prey became mate. Nikhil’s heart pounded. His cock bobbed. His tiger howled with happiness.
Feigning a casualness he didn’t feel, he placed his arm around his mate, his prey, his equal. She trembled, her response exciting him. “Online, you’re known as Verve,” he murmured into her ear, tickling her earlobe with his lips, tasting salt and woman. “I don’t yet know your real name.”
“Violet,” she whispered, holding up her tattooed wrist.
“Violet.” Nikhil raised her hand to his face and rubbed his cheek along the design, grinding his scent into her skin, branding her as his. “You’ve been a bad girl, goddess, touching what is mine, harming my code. Tigers are very protective of anything we consider ours.” He pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse beat reassuringly strong and gratifyingly fast against him.
“Couldn’t resist.” Her eyes darkened, the musk of her arousal
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