She tasted of sweetness and bitter coffee, loneliness and joy. Her body moved under his, the thin T-shirt catching in his hands. Kendrick hid a growl as he swept his tongue into her mouth, opening her farther to him.

She filled him. He’d wanted her from the moment she’d smiled at him when he’d slid onto the stool at her counter. Her open friendliness had caught at him, her entire being seeming to embrace him. Even her name tag had invited him in—Hello, My Name is Addison.

Kendrick knew he’d returned night after night only for the flash of her blue eyes, the curve of her smile.

He kissed the mouth that smiled so readily, locked his hand behind her neck to pull her harder into him. Addison’s fingers sank into his arms, her body curving under his. She made a small noise in her throat, which turned up the flame inside him.

Want this woman. Want all of her.

Pouring out his story had seemed natural. She’d put so much on the line helping him—she deserved to know what she was getting into.

Kendrick’s hand found the curve of her waist, the warm flesh under the shirt. The loose fabric let him slide up under it to the smoothness of her back, which was bare, she having removed her bra for sleeping.

He could have this shirt off her, catch the weight of her breasts, taste them. Basic and raw, he’d thought before. Yes, it would be, and it would be the most pleasure he’d ever known.

Kendrick deepened the kiss, liking the little start she gave, tasting her surprise in his mouth. She flowed against him, not fighting, not shoving him away. His hand went to her stomach, up to the firm round of her breast, the nipple tightening against his palm. Kendrick stroked the hardening tip, loving the little sound Addie made in her throat. He scented her rising need, the dampness that would be beginning between her thighs.

What he wanted wasn’t tame and tender. He wanted to take Addison to the bed and climb into her arms, thrusting into her welcoming body. Harder and faster he’d go, until his burning need for her was sated. If it ever could be.

Addison . . .

A yowling cry shattered the silence. The sound was like a fall of ice on Kendrick’s heated skin.

He fought his way back from drowning in Addison and took a sharp breath. The only thing that could cut through mating frenzy was his cub’s cry of distress.

Kendrick released Addison, but she was already backpedaling from him, then ducking around him, hurrying from the room. Kendrick dragged in another breath, the absence of her warmth like a slap, and followed her.

Addison was across the hall and running into the boys’ room before Kendrick could leave their bedroom. He stifled a growl of admonishment—she didn’t understand that she should wait for him to assess the danger.

He scented no danger, however, nothing in the room but his cubs. Zane and Brett had become their tigers and were on the upper bunk. Brett was sitting on his haunches blinking at Zane, who was howling a small tiger roar, the sound filled with anguish. Brett, watching his brother, whimpered.

Robbie was clinging on to the ladder, trying to pet Zane. He looked as though he wanted to cry as well but he was holding it in to comfort the younger ones.

Addison went straight to Robbie, lifted him from the ladder, and gave him a big hug before setting him down. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

Robbie shrugged his slim shoulders. “They’re scared.”

Kendrick reached to the top bunk and scooped up his cubs, one in each arm. “Hey now,” he said softly. He rumbled low in his throat, a wordless sound that made the cubs snuggle into his bare chest.

Brett recovered first, nuzzling his father and then licking his cheek. Zane shivered, still mewling.

Addison gave Robbie another hug. Robbie usually disliked anyone but Kendrick touching him, but he didn’t shrug off Addison’s touch. He clasped her in return, his small body trembling.