Naughty Temptations

Chapter One

Chapter One

From an elevated perch downwind, I studied the only structure visible for endless miles through high-powered binoculars. Fluffy white clouds streaked with gray stretched across a pale blue sky, blanketing desolate hills covered with rock, scrub brush and skeletal trees. Winter had stripped the Texas Hill Country of its vibrant colors, leaving the landscape sad and dismal—a perfect match for my mood.

“What a waste of time,” I grumbled, handing the lenses over to my sibling, Haidee. “Seven damn weeks of hiking out to the middle of nowhere and nothing. Not one glimpse of this mythical liger.” Sure, we’d caught sight of a total hunk hanging out with Sirena but had never seen him shift.

A liger of all things. The fabled hybrid offspring of a mating between lion and tiger. As if they really existed. Talia Portman had been convincing and seemed so certain, which was why I found myself conducting surveillance of my half-sister’s house. As the story went, Sirena found and mated with a liger. One who claimed ligers were monogamous and would take only one mate.

The story gave me hope. Because if one hybrid existed there had to be more, which meant I had a chance of finding one for myself. A mate of my own who belonged to me only and wouldn’t have to be shared with a pride of lionesses.

I admit it. I want what my sister found. Crave it with every fiber of my being. Especially the wild, uninhibited s*x I’d watched with voyeuristic thrill through my lenses. The kind of hot, nail-me-to-the-wall s*x I fantasize about but never come close to experiencing. God, how I want the experience, but not with one of the vain lions my father keeps pushing me to take as a mate.

Growing up, I witnessed my mother’s endless roller coaster of emotions, thanks to dear old dad. Every time he showed up to spend time with her, Mom walked on clouds…only to be dropped into the depths of hell when he left again to be with one of his other mates.

Not me. I refuse to live that way. To raise my children alone and let them believe that screwed-up way of life is normal. Nope, not happening.

Haidee took a quick look at the house, sighed heavily then set the binoculars on the blanket we shared. “What I want to know is how Sirena not only landed a liger but has managed to actually keep him with her so long?”

If I had the answer to that million-dollar question, I’d be a happy camper.

All lioness shifters learn two basic facts about males early on—they are inherently lazy and complete tomcats. No male feline stays with a female, not even one of his mates, longer than a month before getting the itch to move on. Typically the males last about half that time. Yet this male had been with Sirena since Christmas. Incredible!

“Sorry, Haidee, but your mom’s full of s**t. No way is the guy holed up in there with Sirena a feline shifter. Because a feline would have gone off to chase tail long before now.”

“Then why would Sirena keep him around?” Haidee shot back. “If he’s not feline he can’t even get her off.”

Haidee had a good point. s*x with a regular human man does nothing for a female shifter. Men lack the essential bit of anatomy required to stimulate a female to orgasm or to result in pregnancy. As with their animal counterparts, male feline shifters have a barb beneath the heads of their c***s that extends during mating, stroking a female’s pleasure spot to both orgasm and ovulation. No barb—no orgasm or babies. This I knew for fact from multiple frustrating attempts at reaching satisfaction with regular human men and several high-tech vibrators.

My imagination provided all kinds of incentive to find a feline and get barbed. To finally feel the tingling sensation of those firm, flexible extensions raking over the walls of my p***y, electrifying nerve endings hungry for stimulation, driving me out of my mind with pleasure beyond anything I have ever known. Without the barb—a lifetime of ho-hum s*x with no fireworks. Ever.

Laying on my belly, I dropped my head into my hands and groaned as my last thread of hope unraveled. “We’re doomed to one day be sister wives.”

“Our lives suck,” Haidee complained.

“The total crap purebred felines put up with is really sad. Don’t you agree, Carson?”

The unexpected deep masculine voice startled me. Scrambling around, I got my feet under me and turned, crouched low and ready to shift if need be. My jaw dropped wide open in shock. Standing a few feet behind us were two drool-worthy hunks, clearly brothers.

Twins?

They appeared identical but I noticed a few small differences. Hunk one, on the left, had a small white scar under his right eyebrow while hunk two’s eyes were darker, emerald green compared to his brother’s softer jade color.

“I’ll never understand why they buy into that bullshit the males feed them, Cam,” twin on the right said.

My fingers itched to be holding my Nikon. What I wouldn’t have given to shoot the vibrant males against the stark contrast of the rugged winter background. Both were tall, muscular, and possessed the most incredible multi-hued hair in every shade from platinum to black with streaks of red and mahogany. And then there were the twin fantasies running through my head, getting me hot and bothered. Being the filling in that twin sandwich would be pure bliss.

Haidee crossed her arms over her chest, stood tall with her feet spread shoulder width apart, and glared at the men. “Who are you and what are you doing creeping around our sister’s property?” She arched a brow. “Didn’t see the no trespassing signs?”

Rising to my feet, I assumed a similar pose, thankful Haidee still possessed the ability to speak. Hell, she even made sense. Go, Haidee. With one look at that wall of sexy maleness my mouth went dry and every coherent thought left my head in favor of explicit s****l imagery. And the lustful way Twin One stared at my lips didn’t help, hitting me with a tropical heat wave that made my breasts feel heavy, achy.

“Your sister’s property, huh?” Twin Two said. “This place belongs to our cousin’s…” He seemed to search for the right word.

“Girlfriend,” Twin One supplied.

“Yes. And who would your sister be?” Twin Two asked.

“I’m not telling you that. I don’t even know who you are or why you’re on private property,” Haidee huffed.

Neither man paid any attention to Haidee. Both focused intently on me, creating an electric thrill of awareness low in my belly. A rumbled purr vibrated from Twin One’s chest and he took a step closer, stilling only when Twin Two put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

With the change of their positions, I caught a whiff of the most intoxicating scent and flared my nostrils, drawing it in, getting drunk on the heady fragrance.

Male.

Feline.

Mine, my lioness purred. My mates!

Mates…plural?

Was that even possible? I’d never heard of such a thing as two males mated to one female. Two gorgeous males. Twins. Mated to me? The idea washed over me, making me feel dizzy and weak. I shifted my stance, swaying slightly.

Quicker than I could follow, both males shot forward to stand in front of me, each wrapping a warm palm around an arm, steadying me. Their touch hit me like matching lightning bolts, sizzling through my body, awakening my senses, resulting in a warm rush of arousal dampening my panties.

“Hey,” my sister growled. “Hands off or you’ll pull back bloody stumps. I won’t give you another warning.”

Stunned, I stared up at them. “I-it’s okay…” I’d intended to say her name but at the moment couldn’t even remember my own. “They’re my…uh…”

“Mates,” they purred in unison, finishing my sentence.

Haidee staggered back a step and began talking rapid fire, gesticulating wildly. “Mates? Both of them? That’s not possible.” No one paid her any attention.

“Ours,” One purred.

“Our beautiful mate,” Two claimed.

“H-how? Two?” I swayed again and the world spun drunkenly only to stop with me cradled between two rock-hard chests. Damn, that was nice.

“Carson,” Two said and inclined his head toward his brother. “Camden.”

“I…uh, I think I need to sit down,” I remarked lamely, earning dual rumbled laughter from the twins that vibrated through them and right into me. Incredible. I wished they’d do it again.

“We’ve got you, Pussycat,” One whispered in a husky tone.

“Lorelei Amara Stefanos. You make those strange males put you down now or I’m calling Theo.” Haidee stomped her foot for emphasis. “Now.”

Theo. What a ridiculous threat. As if our big brother would interfere in a mating. He was too busy with his own four lioness mates to worry about me.

“Lorelei,” the males purred in stereo.

I had to ditch my sister. Quick. “Haidee.”

“What?” she pouted.

“Go home.”

“Whaaat?” Her incredulous tone grated on my nerves.

“They’re my mates. We don’t need an audience. Go. Home.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “See if I call Theo or Dad to save your stupid butt from the strange males you picked up in the hills. Mates, plural, ha!”

Reading between the lines, I understood the reason for her pique. She wished they were hers.

No, my lioness growled. Mine!

I lost track of my sister’s rant as she stomped her way down the hill toward her car. My ride home.

Camden beamed a stunning smile that crinkled his eyes and made the tiny scar almost disappear. That sexy grin would have knocked me off my feet if I wasn’t already being held in two sets of strong arms.

As much as I would have loved to just melt and let them have their wicked way with me, I had to establish a few essential ground rules first. Affecting a stern, uncompromising tone was difficult when they’d already heated me into a compliant ball of s****l need but I wouldn’t compromise.

“You’re my mates, huh? Well, while you two might not mind sharing, I do. Puts me in a murderous rage and makes me go all Lorena Bobbitt crazy.”

“Feisty,” Carson breathed.

Camden finished, “We like that.”

Hmm, would the finishing-each-other’s-sentences thing get old? Just then I found it rather cute.

Firm, I reminded myself. Be firm.

“I mean it. I don’t do tomcats, period.”

“Then you’re in luck,” Camden declared.

Carson continued, “Because we’re not purebreds.”

The back-and-forth thing contributed to my dizziness. Or was it the lack of oxygen from being held between two stunningly sensual males? Maybe both.

“We’re tigard,” Camden revealed.

Cue the sound effect of squealing brakes.

“You’re what?”

“Tigard, Pussycat,” Camden purred while stroking his thumb along my cheek and over my lips in a highly distracting manner.

“Dad’s a tiger,” Carson added, running his fingers through my hair. “Mom’s a leopardess.”

“We’re tigard,” Camden concluded then licked his lips as he inched closer. “And you’re ours.”

“Just you,” Carson whispered and nipped my earlobe.

“Our mate,” Camden declared and brushed his lips over mine.

“The only one for us,” both males claimed.