And if one remembers accidentally crash-landing on another, um, living thing like I did...
"I'm sorry I landed on you," I feel obliged to add.
"I rather enjoyed it," the were-tiger drawls, "and wished you had stayed on longer."
"Right..." I manage an awkward smile, not really knowing what to say. I've been doing my best to ignore how dangerously beautiful his voice is, with every word unfurling like the most decadent purr, but it's starting to feel like a hopeless case.
The Cheshire Cat's supposedly based on adorably chubby British shorthairs, but this guy is the complete opposite. Not only does Mr. Snow Tiger look more sinfully attractive than a box of dark chocolate, but he's also awfully good at flirting.
Guys like him are supposed to ignore girls like me, and so it makes no sense at all, why this smoking hot shifter's been staring at me like I'm the one made of sweet, dark cocoa between us.
But...whatever.
First things first, Addie.
First things first, always.
So I clear my throat, pretend I don't notice the NSFW way he's looking at me, and try to get the conversation back to normal footing. "If it's alright with you, there's something I'd like to ask..."
"You can ask me anything you want, darling." His gaze gleams rather wickedly as he speaks, and it makes my body feel...
Weird, I hurriedly try convincing myself. He's weird, and the way he's hitting on me is just as...weird. I know it sounds stupid, but it's just safer this way, and besides...
First things first, Addie!
FIRST THINGS FIRST!
ALWAYS!
And so I lift my chin and frown at him, just to make it clear that I'm all about business and nothing else. "Anyway..." My voice comes out a little too prim, and I find myself fighting off a blush as the sound has a sexy little smirk unfolding over his lips. "I'd just like to know..."
Mr. Snow Tiger arches a brow.
"Am I dead?" I ask quite simply.
There's a second of silence, and then the were-tiger throws his head back with a laugh so effortlessly sexy it makes me feel like the biggest slut in town, with the way I'm just suddenly dying to throw myself at him.
"You are such a prize, little Alice."
You are, too, I wish I could say, but since I'm no idiot...
I frown at him instead, not trusting myself to speak, lest my voice comes out in an all-too-telling moan.
"And to answer your question—-"
I start holding my breath.
"No, you're not dead."
I'm about to sigh in relief, except...
"Or at least not yet," the shifter drawls.
Not yet?
"But I have reason to hope that your la petite mort will come soon enough."
I might not speak French fluently, but I certainly know what that means, and a flush heats my cheeks the moment I hear the words. I've never had a guy speak to me that way before, and as outrageously ill-timed as his words are, well...
Just between this page and me...
I kinda like it.
But even so.
When he steps forward, I make myself step back, remembering just in time what he can shift into.
"Don't say you're afraid of my cat?" he taunts.
"You have a tiger inside of you," I retort, "not a cat."
"How tediously sensible," he mocks.
"I'll take that as a compliment," I counters, "so thank you."
Another flash of his Cheshire smile, and I'm embarrassed to feel my entire body react to the sight.
"Mm." Mr. Snow Tiger's purr is low and playful. "I can smell your desire, little Alice."
I can only gasp and sputter incoherently while struggling to hide my guilt.
Because it's true, you know.
There's only one reason why my breasts feel strangely heavy, my nipples aching, and that part between my legs...
Bloody, bloody hell.
I used to wonder if something was wrong with me, with the way I feel nothing at all for any of the boys in school. Mystery now solved, since apparently I'm way more into monsters than humans, and the realization just makes everything worse.
My whole body feels like it's running on electricity, with every part of me tingling with acute awareness of the were-tiger's presence. And when I see his moss-jade eyes start to glitter with flagrantly sexual heat—-
A whimper rushes up my throat, but I manage to hold it back by biting my lip hard.
Enough to make it bleed, and as a metallic scent flavors the air, I see the shifter's nostrils flare—-
What the bloody—-
One moment he's several feet away, another moment he's right in front of me, and he's licking the blood off my lower lip.
Oh. My. Bloody. Gaaaaaaaah.
The shocking, consuming heat of it literally has my knees suddenly giving out, and I hear him chuckle as I unthinkingly grip his shoulders to keep myself from falling.
"What an unexpected delight you're turning out to be, little Alice..."
He's whispering the words against my lips, and I find myself fighting against the urge to lean close.