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  CAGED

  Diana DeRicci

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  CAGED

  Copyright © 2010 DIANA DERICCI. All rights reserved worldwide.

  ISBN 978-1-936165-43-8

  Cover Art Designed By Anastasia Rabiyah

  Photographs Copyright Les3photo8, One-world Images Simon Whitehouse, Dreamstime.com

  Edited By Brieanna Robertson and D. Thomas Jerlo

  Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC

  www.PurpleSword.com

  Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  For Selena, Mina, Michelle, Les, and Lee.

  You guys are the reasons this story was started and finished.

  Chapter One

  Rhys watched the agitated feline pace back and forth in her cage, throaty growls vibrating the silence. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you out.” He clamped the wire cutters, pinching the cable between its jaws. A ping echoed as the steel mesh of the cage snapped, making him wince, though he didn’t slow down or stop. He did the exact same thing six more times then, after dropping the cutters to his side, pushed on the wire split, widening the hole. “How the hell did you let poachers find you?” he admonished the cat.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he stilled his breathing. Shit. Footsteps. “We have to hurry,” he told the cheetah. Golden eyes rested on him. At least she’d stopped pacing. His gaze quickly sought any wounds with her standing still, or at least calmer, but he couldn’t find anything physically wrong with the cheetah before him. She was scared, and probably pissed beyond all sanity at being snagged in a damn trap, but otherwise fine.

  The warehouse was dark, the mustiness of its interior telling the tale of its disuse. Dawn was only an hour away, giving them little time to sneak out It had taken him all night trailing the ones who’d captured her and then having no choice but to leave her to come back with the cutters to rescue Mira.

  With a grunt, he created a gap in the razor-sharp wire ends, and the cat slunk through the hole. Once on his side of the cage, she practically wrapped herself around him, butting his shoulder and chin with her head. He held her in his arms for a minute. “I got you, baby,” he whispered, burying his face in her neck. He’d been terrified when he’d realized what had happened to her. Rhys didn’t even know how the poachers had caught on that they’d gone up to the mountains to let Mira run. Cheetahs were not native to North America, much less the Catskills. They would have to find a new running ground, but they’d worry about that later. Right now, he had to get them both out of there. “We have to go.” Reluctantly, he set her on her feet. She brushed against his leg, staying close.

  He inched with a cautious step along the wall, her padded paws silent beside him. Rhys had to fight his urge to run like hell to escape. They’d get out. The window he’d come in through was only a few yards away. Sounds of a waking city slipped in on the breeze.

  A moment later he froze, the cat beside him going stock still at the same time. A phone rang. Steps retreated. Damn. He let out a slow breath. Whoever was there, was pacing a path in the flooring. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end, warning him he was running out of time. Nearing the window, he motioned for Mira and she cleared it with one flying leap. Hoisting himself up, he fell through to the other side, landing in a crouch. Leaning against the wall, buried in shadow, he paused, listening for any sound of pursuit, then he pointed and she whirled, taking off at a run. Rhys fell in behind.

  Three seconds later, a volatile shout filled the warehouse. He didn’t stop to look over his shoulder to see if they’d been spotted or who it was. His only goal was to get them both out of sight and disappear.

  * * * *

  Mira collapsed on the leather front seat, Rhys already turning over the engine of the SUV. “There’s clothes in the back,” he told her once she’d completed her shift. She nodded, gasping for breath.

  “Just go.”

  He didn’t argue.

  A moment later, shivering and naked, she reached behind her seat and found a pile of clothes. “Thank you.” Slumped down, she couldn’t see where he was going, just grateful it was away from that cage.

  “Like I’d let you out in public naked,” Rhys scoffed with a playful grin.

  She lay in shivering silence for a moment, her eyes closed. Adrenaline surges sent shivers down her frame in rivers. Mira had never been captured like that, and she never wanted it to happen again. “For coming to get me.”

  A hand threaded through her blonde curls a second later, drawing her gaze to him. “Like I’d ever let you go.” Her heart thumped and a heavy sheen moistened her eyes at the absolute adoration in his gray-brown eyes when she locked hers with his.

  Mira was still getting used to having Rhys in her life. She knew he loved her. She loved him like no one else. But he’d taken a huge risk tonight. Sliding the sweater over her head, she heatedly admonished herself. He’d done it because she’d made a bad choice and had been caught for it.

  “Do you think they know?”

  He raked his bottom lip with his teeth. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He turned right at a light, his attention on his driving. “I’m not sure if they were just poachers, or if someone else has figured out what you are and is actively hunting for you guys.”

  She groaned. The tears continued to well. “Damn it!” She swiped a stiff finger beneath her lashes when she couldn’t make them stop.

  “You have to admit, anyone reporting cheetahs and lions and tigers to the wildlife department is going to be laughed at. Get enough calls from more locations and someone’s going to ask questions.” He glanced her way. “Catch one and you’re an instant media rock star.”

  “I don’t think he was waiting for the news vans,” she said. Mira curled up tighter on the seat, wanting to sink into it and disappear. “I need to lay low for a while. I thought it was safe here. I got careless.” She pressed, as though to hide, against the rear of the seat.

  Rhys pulled over into a diner parking lot miles from where he’d found her and stopped the vehicle. Shoving the gears into park, he turned and faced her. “It’ll be all right.” Warm, solid and steady, his palms cupped her face, calming her frantically racing heart. The sweep of his thumbs over her skin made him feel so real, soothing her like no one else could. “I love you. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

  Her breath caught. It always did as his lips descended to hers. She purred and moaned at the same time, the flash of desire so hot, she shook. All it took was a kiss and she went up in flames. A touch and she’d be demanding he strip and take her. And he wouldn’t argue. He couldn’t deny her when he was usually just as eager. The intensity of what they’d found together was staggering, and so once in a lifetime, she was determined to never let him go, provided incidences like yesterday morning didn’t take her from him unwillingl
y.

  She’d never known anyone like Rhys Jamison Rowls. Her fingers dug into his thick bay brown hair, holding on as his kiss heated the interior of the vehicle, chasing away her chills. Memories of the day spent in the confines of a cage faded as his lips molded to hers. She opened to his query, giving him access, craving the feel of his tongue. Pushing forward, she danced with him, and felt the shiver of want rush down her spine. Her womb clenched, and her body grew damp. She had to shift on her seat to ease the climbing ache.

  “Shh,” he breathed, grinning knowingly above her lips, his voice rich with his own desire. “Me too, baby, but you need to eat. You haven’t eaten since this morning.” Technically yesterday morning, but he was right. She was starving.

  Heat rose into her face, her gaze dropping when his concern deepened the gray in his eyes. His thoughtfulness always caught her off guard. She’d been on her own for so long away from home and avoiding detection at the best of times, it was taking time getting used to someone watching out and caring for her.

  Only a handful of her kind still existed. The closest translation from their original language was Felid-shifter, where the males and females could shift into several feline forms. In the human form, they were as nondescript as the next person. Unfortunately, their limited numbers meant their survival was crucial for every one of them. They all prayed to find the one person that would help their continuity because they could only procreate when the chemistry was right, to stimulate the mating and ovulation of the species. Not all of the remaining Felids had been lucky, dwindling their numbers further. For her, finding her mate among the human men had been a miracle. She knew before she was old enough to shift that the one she needed wasn’t going to be among the males of her race. Mira was an ancestor of a scientific group that had arrived on Earth over a century before to research and catalogue the environments because it was so similar to their own home. Only the original group never had the chance to return to their home world. Unable to flee when their ship was discovered by a small hunting party, they’d destroyed it and were forced to scatter.

  Now integrated with mankind, the existing descendent generation knew nothing of their home world. Each day was a fight to remain in secret, to hide the real animal in their skins, because even if she looked human, she was a far cry from it.

  And Mira might have just blown it for all of them.

  She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry,” she finally choked out, fighting the sobs that burned her throat.

  Rhys cradled her into his shoulder, his hands soothing her, running up and down her back.

  “I’m not going to lose you now, kitty-cat,” he said, nuzzling her ear.

  Mira chuckled through her tears. That stupid nickname. Lifting her up in front of him, he wiped her tears away with a thumb, gazing at her like she was his entire world.

  “I never should have left after the argument.”

  “All couples fight, baby. The bigger question is how they knew to set the trap, there near the cabin, and also when we’d be there alone and not with anyone else from the family. A trap set to catch a big cat? That was no accident.”

  She nodded, looking out the window beyond his shoulder, the threat of what she’d discovered firing chills and shakes deep into her body. Someone was hunting for her, or for the cats. In either case, she was in danger. She didn’t mention her own fears, praying for the moment that she was wrong and it had just been a fluke, a very rare mistake.

  Streetlamps up and down the street left little in shadow, cars flowing easily through the traffic lights with the approaching dawn not too far away. Just another morning, like so many others. It seemed almost too normal after the last eighteen hours.

  “Let’s grab a bite then go home.”

  Mira nodded with Rhys slipping out of the driver’s door, then waiting for her to join him. Curling her hand in his, he guided her inside.

  Chapter Two

  Rhys smiled in patient indulgence as Mira scarfed down the half of his steak that he ‘suddenly’ wasn’t hungry for. He could have eaten it, but he was full enough, and she needed it more. Felids needed a lot of protein, not in the least interested in rabbit food or vegetables. They were more feline than human in just about every way. Their carnivorous appetite followed suit.

  Mira was sleek and lithe, with what some would call a runner’s body. She was a little taller than average, at least taller than his sister, but if she weighed more than one-eighteen soaking wet—in either form—he’d volunteer to be a monkey’s uncle. She did weigh more as the larger cats, but she preferred the cheetah. It suited her nature.

  It was a good thing he wasn’t a dog person, he mused.

  Her shiny blonde hair fell in very loose curls to her shoulders, and she had the most amazing turquoise blue eyes. Only when she drew a shape, everything changed, from her toenails to her eye color. It amazed him daily how this unique, incredibly giving woman was his.

  “What?” she asked, her eyes wide and unblinking, catching him staring at her.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, deviltry dancing in the twitch. He leaned forward. “I want to take you home and fuck you, right now.”

  She gulped. Her blue orbs glittered as her cat perked up. She wanted to preen. He wanted to stroke her. They ultimately wanted the same thing. He scooped her loose hand within his, leaned in close across the table and lowered his voice.

  “I’m going to lick you all over with my tongue,” he whispered, taunting her with half closed eyelids. He knew that look drove her insane with lust. He also knew how much she loved the sensation of being licked. It was definitely a win-win situation. “I’m going to taste you until you come.”

  She panted, her sweet lips parting. The tip of her tongue peeked out, touching her top lip, and his cock hardened behind his zipper. God, he needed to get her home. “If you can tell me you’re wet for me, right now, we’ll leave. If not,” he paused, stroking her hand with his fingertips, gliding over the sensitive flesh of her palm, “I’ll keep going.”

  Her golden lashes fluttered as her cheeks turned apple red. She wasn’t nearly as bold as he was, and he loved that about her, a gentle innocence that he never wanted to change. But she was always ready to answer his challenges, daring herself as much as his own desires.

  “I’m so hot,” she managed, her voice throaty and low as though she were hiding a growl, “I can feel the ache.”

  He groaned and shuddered. “Let’s go.” He remembered to toss money on the table as an afterthought, ready to leave now, then with her hand gripped in his, they all but raced to the vehicle. After having her taken from him the morning before, Rhys wanted to stamp his name all over her body. If it hadn’t been for her screams of outrage, he never would have known she had been taken at all. He’d followed the truck with the tarp-covered cage back into the city, losing them for a heart-wrenching moment when he’d had no choice but to stop for a stupid, ill-timed freight train. He’d never been more thankful for the bond they shared than when he’d lost her and needed to know what direction they’d taken.

  It could have been instinct, but Rhys really doubted it.

  He drove under the speed limit leaving the diner, the fire in his gut slowly cooling to a simmer rather than an all out burn of need. Glancing at Mira, he noticed that her eyes were drifting closed. Tenderness eased the clench he had on the steering wheel. He needed to make sure his woman was well cared for before he jumped her bones like a wild man. He’d let her rest, then fuck her brains out.

  * * * *

  More asleep than awake, he carried her drowsy self into the townhouse they now shared. Kicking the door closed, he took her upstairs, setting her gently on the king bed. She was a sprawler. Show him a cat that wasn’t, he thought with a grin. He tore off his t-shirt then wiggled her out of the sweater and jeans. She arched beneath his hands. God, she knew how to make this hard for him.

  Sliding into bed naked, he curled around her and she automatically bowed with him, a breathy purr rumbling up like a contented
moan. The first time she’d done that, he’d thought he was hearing things, because he’d never owned a cat in his life, but he knew he’d heard one, practically beneath his ear. The memory still had the power to make him smile. Bringing up the blankets, he covered them and closed his eyes.

  Her ass wiggled against his groin. Rhys sucked in a needy breath. Mira was more asleep than awake.

  He thought.

  Then she gyrated, and his cock answered, thickening along her ass cheek. Relishing the feeling of her skin rubbing against him, Rhys didn’t move.

  “Rhys,” she murmured.

  “Rest, Mira. You need rest.” He was trying to do the right thing, but even Superman would have trembled in his shoes. Or sheets.

  “Uh uh,” she replied, unrepentant.