Untamed Hunger Page 2

  “You usually use an alias?”

  “Only when I’m on the run. So, can you help me?”

  “On the run from him?” Gunner jerked his thumb toward the diner.

  There was a loud crash, a yell she recognized as Glen’s, and then her keen ears picked up the sound of a body taking a punch. She didn’t think it was Adrian on the receiving end, either. Claire quickly moved away from the diner’s back door.

  “Yeah. So, what do you say? Either help me or I’ve got to get the hell out of here myself.”

  He hesitated, and Claire thought he was going to bail on her. Instead, Gunner grabbed her hand and pulled her down the alleyway. He spoke quickly over his shoulder. “You ever been on a motorcycle? I’ve got mine at the shop just around the corner.”

  She nodded, which he missed in their headlong dash onto Lindhurst Street. He pulled her down the block and toward Hearne’s Bikes.

  “In here,” said Gunner.

  They burst through the front door of the store, past a cramped and dusty seating area, and through an open doorway that led to the shop. Gunner guided her through a welter of bikes in various stages of repair. A skinny kid looked up, and flung himself out of their way, the metallic clang of a tool hitting concrete echoing loudly, as he watched them race by.

  “Gunner? What the hell’s going on?” asked a man standing in the doorway, to what looked like an office. He held something greasy and metallic in his hand.

  “Reece, change of plans. Taking the rest of the day off. Gotta give a girl a ride… somewhere.” Gunner managed to get all this out without breaking his stride.

  Claire got a look at the guy named Reece, as they flew past. Mouth agape, he just stared as they continued their headlong dash through the shop.

  “Bike’s out back.” Gunner slammed through a metal security door, and they popped back out into the bright sunshine. Claire saw the bike, a big Harley, lurking in the shadows of the dead-end alley.

  Gunner finally let go of her. She waited, shifting anxiously from foot-to-foot while he pulled back the chain-link security gate at the mouth of the alley. She half expected Adrian to appear any second.

  Gunner ran back to the bike, wheeled it forward, and climbed on. The Harley came to life with a deep rumble. To Claire, it sounded loud, powerful, and a lot like escape.

  “You got some kind of plan other than racing out of here?” Gunner shouted over the noise of the big machine.

  Claire hiked up the skirt of her waitress uniform and got on behind Gunner. She’d ridden bikes before, but this thing was massive. But then, so was Gunner.

  She leaned forward across his broad back, her lips close to his ear. “My apartment, for a start. Then…” She shrugged and leaned back. “I guess I’ll figure things out from there.”

  Gunner turned, giving her a look that clearly said he thought she was crazy. Then he gunned the big machine, dropped it into gear, and then they were gone.

  4

  Gunner knew the guy was a shifter the minute the door opened. His scent was so strong, it rolled off of him in waves. He figured the guy was either supremely confident no one would notice—or care—he was a shifter, or he was so out of control he didn’t even think to mask himself.

  As it turned out, he was out of control. Gunner had been close to a few loose cannons in his life, and sometimes he fit that description. But this guy was beyond anything he had ever encountered. For a brief second, he’d debated if he even wanted to get involved.

  But the look on the girl’s face told him there was no way he could just sit there, and let the guy do whatever the hell he was going to do. For one thing, she was clearly terrified of him. For another, Gunner was pretty sure if she ran, he’d never see her again.

  And that wasn’t something he was willing to let happen.

  So, he’d stood and turned to face the guy, only to bite back a laugh. The shifter was a good half-foot shorter than Gunner, dressed in some high fashion suit and tie, with shoes so polished, they practically glowed. Either he had a lot of money, and didn’t mind flaunting it, or he was trying to make up for the lack of stature—or lack of something else—with the flashy clothes. As far as Gunner was concerned, neither mattered. All that was important was keeping himself between the guy, and the girl.

  The shifter radiated rage like a blast furnace. When Gunner put his hand on the guy’s shirt, he caught a glimpse of just how wound up he was. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the guy shifted into his tiger form, right then and there. He was on the edge, and the least provocation could push him past his limits. Something needed to be done, and it needed to be done now.

  “Take your paw off my shirt, you stinking animal. She’s mine and I’m not leaving without her.”

  Gunner reacted, instinct and intense dislike for the guy fueling his actions. Grabbing his tie, he yanked hard, and slammed his forehead into the shifter’s face. There’d been a satisfying crack when his head connected with the bridge of the guy’s nose. The shifter then blacked out, his blood rushing onto the expensive clothing.

  And now Jillian - or Claire, as it turned out - was on the back of his bike, while he wove through the lunch hour traffic. As they burned through a multitude of yellow lights, it was pretty clear that Claire had been on a bike before. She moved with him around the corners, and wasn’t clutching him in a death grip like some girls did. She held on tight, but he knew that she wasn’t frightened.

  Despite their speed, and the cars honking, not all of his focus was on the road or the shifter they were running from. Gunner was acutely aware of her arms hugging him, the soft press of her breasts against his back, and warm hands on his stomach, just above the button of his jeans. And, when she’d hiked up her skirt to climb on behind him, he’d caught a flash of long legs and creamy thighs. It had caused several inappropriate thoughts to run through his head.

  A large, yellow taxi was in front of him almost before he could react. Braking wasn’t an option, so he gunned the machine, leaning hard, swerving left around the ass-end of the cab. He drew a deep breath, as they rocketed through the other side of the intersection and made the effort to pull his mind away from Claire’s attributes long enough to not get them killed.

  She’d shouted the street name in his ear, back when they were still traveling under the speed limit. He knew the area, and it wasn’t long before he was cruising down Belmont Street, past the red brick apartment buildings that had seen not only better days, but better decades. He felt her hand move away from his body, and she pointed to one of the cookie cutter buildings.

  “Okay,” he said loudly.

  He noticed an alley, and turned down the shadowy canyon that ran between her building and its’ neighbor. Fortunately, Gunner noticed some traffic at the other end, which meant they had an escape route if needed.

  Behind her building he found a small, garbage-strewn courtyard, where weeds grew with abandon. He swung into it, making a tight circle across the gravel and patchy, brown grass.

  Claire was off the bike before he had a chance to kill the engine.

  He kicked down the stand and got off the bike, watching as she raced up a set of cracked, cement steps.

  Soon, he was right behind her as she pushed through the door, into a dim hallway.

  Following her, he grimaced. The hallway smelled like cat urine, and cooked cabbage.

  “Why are we here?” he asked, trying not to breathe in the foul scent. “If you’re in such a hurry, I can take you anywhere you want to go.”

  She fumbled with her keys in front of a non-descript door, the number eight missing but the ghostly outline still visible on the dingy wood. “I just need to get my stuff and grab some money. It won’t take long.”

  “Okay.”

  She slammed the door shut behind him, throwing the deadbolts. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Claire darted through a pair of curtains into what he thought was probably the bedroom. He heard banging and thumps and sighed. No woman he’d ever known could or
ganize and pack their shit in less than an hour.

  “So, you want some help…” He parted the curtains, stepping between them. And stopped dead.

  Claire stood in the middle of the room, in just her bra and panties.

  Gunner blinked once, and without thinking, let out a low whistle.

  She glared at him. “What the hell? I’m getting dressed here.” Claire grabbed a blanket from the bed, struggling to cover some part of her body with it.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry. I just wanted to see if you needed any help packing.”

  “I’m packed. Turn around, damn it, so I can finish getting dressed.”

  Gunner turned his back, but the image of Claire was engraved in his mind. The body he’d imagined beneath her waitress uniform was a far cry from what he’d gotten a good look at. The curves were there alright, but it was pretty clear, even in the dim light from the cloudy window, that he’d underestimated just how beautiful she was.

  “So, you’re already packed? That must be a new record somewhere,” he said.

  He heard the rustle of clothing behind him, and it took all the control he had not to turn around.

  Claire cleared her throat. “You, uh, you ever heard of a bug-out bag? The preppers have them. Well, so do I.”

  “Preppers?” He frowned, trying to gauge where she was with getting dressed. He wanted another glimpse of her. Then he mentally kicked himself. The girl was obviously in danger and all he could think about was what she looked like in her bra and panties.

  “Yeah, you know? End of the world people. Doomsday preppers. The survivalists. You can turn around.”

  He did and found that she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Claire sat down on the edge of her bed and began pulling on a pair of Doc Martens.

  “Anyway, a bug-out bag has all of your essentials for survival. For a few days, at least. Mine’s a little different, since it has pretty much everything I own.” She nodded to the duffel on the floor at the foot of her bed. He hadn’t even noticed it. He’d been to blown away by the sight of Claire.

  “So, this guy’s been after you for a while then?”

  Claire stood, yanked the binder from her hair, setting it free. Blonde curls cascaded over her shoulders. Gunner watched as she pulled it all back again, securing it behind her head.

  “About nine months. I’ve been here for…” She scowled, bent, and hoisted the duffel onto her shoulder. “Something like four months. Dammit, I really thought I’d lost him this time.”

  “He must be pretty relentless.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Claire shouldered past Gunner, heading for the tiny living room. She dropped the duffel, and Gunner watched as she yanked aside a corner of the floor rug, dropped to her knees, and proceeded to pull up one of the floorboards.

  “Need any help?”

  “No. I got it.” Reaching between the joists, she pulled up a leather satchel. “Just need to make a withdrawal from the bank.”

  He didn’t reply.

  She stood in front of him, face slightly flushed, and sounding little winded. “Look, I apologize for dragging you into this, but I’ve got to get the hell out of here. Adrian’s going to pick up my trail pretty soon, or he’s going to beat my address out of someone at the diner. Thanks for the ride,” She hoisted the duffel, and slung the strap over her shoulder, the satchel held in her other hand.

  Panic surged through Gunner. She was headed out the door, and if he let her go, out of his life. In the few seconds that it took her to reach the other side of the room, he’d made up his mind.

  “I can take you wherever you want to go,” he blurted out.

  She turned, eyes wide. “You’d do that? Just up and leave town with me?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I would.”

  “Why the hell would you do that? You hardly know me.”

  “True.” He took a step toward her, his heart racing. “But if I let you go now; I’ll never get the chance to get to know you. And…”

  One more step.

  Her scent washed over him, the sharp tang of fear the most obvious, but beneath that, flowers and spice, and something deeply feminine. Something overwhelmingly like home. “…I’m not willing to pass up that chance.”

  She looked up at him, blinked, lips parted, face flushing a pretty pink. “Oh. Well…I…”

  Gunner bit back a smile. She was still interested in him, and not just because he offered a way out. “Just tell me one thing, though.”

  Claire took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Who’s the guy, and why’s he chasing you?”

  “That’s two things…” Claire smiled, and Gunner noticed she had dimples.

  How had he missed those?

  She looked him dead in the eyes. “He’s the son of my clan’s Alpha.”

  “Why’s he chasing you?”

  Claire hesitated, but her eyes never left his. Gunner waited.

  “I left him at the altar.”

  5

  “Hell, when you decide to piss someone off, you really go all out, don’t you?” Gunner shook his head, giving her a lopsided grin, and a raised eyebrow. “Your Alpha must not be too happy with you, either.”

  Claire shifted under the weight of the duffel and under Gunner’s intense scrutiny. Personal history wasn’t something she talked about, and she certainly hadn’t told anyone about Adrian or being a runaway bride.

  Keri and Glen from the diner knew her as Jillian from the block; a good Irish girl from the other side of town. Before that, in an entirely different state, she was Lisbeth, an art-school dropout working at a preschool where she taught kids to draw. She told people there that she was paying off student loans. Before that…she didn’t really remember.

  She shifted the duffel again. “Let’s just say that it’s not a good situation, any way you look at it.”

  This was hard. Everything inside her screamed that it was insanity to trust a stranger, especially another tiger shifter. For all she knew, Adrian could have sent him to track her down. Except the head butt at the diner sort of ruled that out. But still, she knew nothing about him.

  Pushing through all that was something else, however. Maybe even a tiny sprout of what might have been hope. That, and the feeling she might not have to do this by herself anymore, eased her a bit. It was enough, at least for now.

  “So, you said you’d take me anywhere?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded, expectant, eyes like blue lasers fixed on her.

  “Well, about that…” She needed to make a decision. Trust a stranger with her life, or go back outside, alone.

  “The thing is… I don’t really have any place to go.”

  That was the truth. She’d run before, but each time she’d had some warning. Some sixth that told her Adrian was on her trail. The hair on the back of her neck would go up and there’d be the familiar sense of being watched. The feeling that told her to get out of town, no questions asked. And she’d always listened to those feelings. This time, there’d been nothing.

  It was unsettling.

  Of course, it was possible that she’d just gotten careless somehow. Had moved too close to home. Slipped up with the name she’d chosen or the job she was currently at. Or, maybe Adrian had just gotten better at tracking her down. He had a powerful clan, with an influential Alpha backing him, while she was out in the cold and alone.

  Gunner was quiet, and she figured she’d blown it. Playing the hero once and dragging her out of danger’s way, might be his limit for the day.

  She sighed, turned the doorknob, and stepped into the hall, dreading what might be waiting for her outside. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled.

  “Hold up.” He touched her shoulder. “I know a place.”

  ***

  A couple of hours later, she was on his motorcycle and they were charging down some backwoods road, far away from the city. He’d mentioned that he knew of a place, but Claire had assumed it was somewhere in the civilized world. Appar
ently, that wasn’t going to be the case.

  She closed her eyes. They’d been riding at break-neck speeds, going up and down small green hills, for the most part. Recently, however, the bike had started climbing what felt like completely vertical sloped terrain, followed by descents that had her stomach in her throat.

  Claire shivered. The air was cool, almost cold, and she wanted her jacket but didn’t want to ask Gunner to stop. For one thing, she thought they’d made good time, and the more distance between her and Adrian, the better. But more to the point, there didn’t seem to be any place where he actually could stop. The road was narrow and lined with trees.

  It was almost dark when Gunner finally slowed down and swung the bike toward the edge of the road.

  What the hell was he doing?

  For a moment, she wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake.

  Had Gunner really been sent by Adrian to kill her, committing suicide in the process to honor an Alpha?

  But then she saw a narrow, gravely roadway in the splashing light of the bike, and relaxed.

  Gunner followed the trail, which wound down, and then back up, beneath the canopy of pines. After about another mile, he stopped in a small clearing and cut the engine.

  “We’re almost there,” he told her.

  She climbed off and staggered slightly while her legs became accustomed to walking on solid ground again.

  Gunner also got off the bike and went through a series of stretches, by lifting his arms overhead and rolling his head from side to side.

  Claire watched, fascinated by the way his hard muscles rippled beneath the black T-shirt. She’d just been tracked down by an ex-almost-husband, dragged to safety by a total stranger, even fleeing the city with him. Now, all she could think about was how sexy Gunner looked, which was crazy, but something she just couldn’t help. In fact, right now, he looked pretty damn fine from where she stood.

  Perfect timing to start drooling over someone, she thought wryly.

  Claire had hit it off with other guys, but she had to admit that the chemistry between her and Gunner was undeniable. Riding behind him for hours hadn’t hurt…or helped.