Free Tiger Bound by Tressie Lockwood

me to stop,” he promised.
    She rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh, okay, Mr. Dreamy. To bed with you.”
    They both turned in for the night. Heath yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it on a chair. He switched out his sweatpants for boxers and lay on his back watching Deja undress. She wore white bikini panties and a matching bra under her minidress. He took in her curves, including those amazing breasts and that round ass. His cock twitched, but he ignored it. She climbed on the bed and nestled into his side, and he stroked her hair, listening to her breathing until she slept. Resting himself took more time despite the weariness of his mind and body. He shut his eyes and tried a few breathing techniques. After what felt like hours, he dozed.
     
    * * * *
     
    Heath’s throat hurt, and he swallowed to try wetting it, but nothing helped. A coughing spell woke him, and he peered into the darkness of his room. Heavy black smoke filled the air, and the temperature had risen several degrees since they’d gone to bed. With the constant ache in his skull, it took him a moment to process the meaning of the flickering light beneath the closed bedroom door. The house was on fire.
    “Deja, wake up! We have to get out of here.” He shook her, but she didn’t respond. Panic seized the muscles in Heath’s stomach. He tossed the covers aside and leaped to the floor. “Deja, come on, baby, open your eyes.”
    He raced to the door and gingerly touched the doorknob. When the metal didn’t burn, he figured the fire hadn’t spread their way yet, but it would be safer to go out the window and assess the damage afterward. He unlocked the window and raised it then went back for Deja. She moaned when he lifted her into his arms. Again, he called out her name, but she didn’t respond. A coughing fit racked her small body and then nothing. If he didn’t get her to fresh air, she would die.
    Heath sat her in a chair and then dragged the furniture to the window. He climbed through the opening and then leaned in to pull her out. Just when he got a grip beneath her arms, a twig snapped behind him. If the situation weren’t dire, he might have questioned his ability to hear and sense someone behind him over the roar of the burning fire. Unfortunately, neither prepared him for the blow to the back of the head. Pain exploded across his skull, and Deja slipped from his fingers. He went down hard to one knee. Thinking of Deja stuck in the house unconscious gave him strength even as blackness played with the edges of his vision.
    He flattened a palm against his fist and used it to drive his elbow backward into his assailant’s gut. The man grunted, but he didn’t lose his balance. Heath jumped to his feet and went for the window again. The man grabbed him and dragged him back, then thrust him on the ground. A boot slammed into his chest, driving the wind from his lungs.
    Heath’s lungs burned, and the air he dragged in scraped across his raw throat. “Stop this. I have to get Deja.”
    His answer was a snarl and a right hook to the jaw. The blow drove him back to the past when the bully attacked without regard for the fact that he had no wish to fight. Then, he hadn’t reacted. Tonight, Deja lay in real trouble. When the blow came again, he deflected it with a punch to the joint in the man’s arm. The shatter of bone resounded in his ears. He rolled to his feet and threw another punch, connecting with a jaw this time. The man went down to the ground. Heath followed with several more blows until his attacker stopped moving, and then he spun to the window.
    Fire consumed the dresser near the door and raced across the ceiling. Embers rained down, coming too close to where Deja lay unmoving. He didn’t pause but hoisted himself into the opening and grabbed Deja. In seconds, he carried her across the yard toward the road. When he laid her down, he checked her pulse then listened to her chest. Nothing.
    “Damn it, Deja, don’t die on me, honey.