Page 93 of Freeing Her Cheetah


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“I understand. I don’t blame you for it.” I saw his pain.

“She didn’t understand the concept of mates, and I didn’t enlighten her. She has been around the world but wasn’t educated about the world of shifters or even her own kind. Silas was not a good maker.”

“What happened to him?”

“Apparently, she killed him while she was having sex with him. Although, I don’t know if she knew how to get rid of him permanently.”

I voice the question that has been haunting me. “Did she force you to be with her?” I choke.

“No, Kitty Cat,” he soothes. “I wouldn’t have let her do that. What little she did touch me made my skin crawl.”

“Good.” I smile slightly, the knot in my stomach releasing. “What did she think was going to happen?”

“She didn’t even really know.” He drops his hands to my shirt, to the remaining buttons. He continues as he works. “She wanted us to be together, but she also wanted revenge. When a human is turned into a vampire, it doesn’t change the person’s personality, just enhances it. She didn’t adjust well to having the power she did.”

I watch his hands as he pulls the shirt off. I didn’t have time to put on pants before my mom came. His shirt is big enough to be a short dress on me, so it covered me enough that it didn’t bother me. But obviously it must bother Elijah, as he frowns at my bare legs.

“I didn’t have time for pants,” I rush to explain.

He blinks and looks up. “I was more concerned with the healing scrapes on your skin.”

“Oh,” I sigh. “I didn’t notice.” As I was running, I felt the sting of branches but had more pressing things on my mind.

“I’m not crazy that the whole crew got a look at what's mine,” he rumbles.

“Elijah,” I laugh. “Most of them are mated, and we are shifters. They’re used to no clothes.”

“Most,” he pouts.

I take my bra off to distract him.

It works.

His eyes heat.

He lifts me off the counter, grabs my hand, and leads me to the tub. He hooks his thumbs into my underwear and pulls.

“Wait,” he says. He lifts his leg and climbs in. Once he is settled, he motions with his hand and I move. He supports me with one hand in mine and the other on my hip. “Straddle me.”

I hiss at the contact of the hot water on my sores and his throbbing cock when I sit on his lap, facing him. My hands aregripping the lip of the tub behind his head, my breasts skimming his chest.

My hair is pushed back and his fingers fist it. We stare at each other for a full minute before I burst into tears.

“I was so scared,” I admit in between sobs.

“Oh, baby,” he says. He pulls with his hand, encouraging me to tuck my face into his neck before running fingers gently run up and down my spine. “I’m so sorry, Saylor.”

“I didn’t know what to do. I knew you would know what to do. With my mom, with my sister, your brothers—even the doctor,” I blabber into his neck.

“I would have done my best, but I think you did great,” he whispers. “Was that your sister in my room?”

“Yes.” The skimming of his fingers lulls me.

“She was startled when I shot up in bed. I didn’t pay much attention. Your mother really is alive?”

“She is. There is so much more to that. But I don’t want to talk about that now.” My tears have tapered off and my other senses have come alive. “Are you really alright?”

“I am. My cheetah worked its magic.” The fingers that were bringing me comfort moments ago are giving me a different sensation now. “What wasn’t soothed by the change is now, having you so close.”

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