Man-Eater Read Free

wanted him. Hell, if she looked in a mirror she was sure she’d see her own tigress’s eyes glowing bright, too.
    But there was no mirror, just the motel and what looked like the tow yard or some kind of auto repair facility straight ahead. From behind her, she heard music. It emana ted from a block building bathed in a pur ple glow. Kendra ignored the music and walked over to the motel. She didn’t have much money, but she had enough, at least for the night.
    “Do you have a room?” she asked the tired woman at the desk.
    “Fifty bucks,” the woman said.
    “Sounds good,” Kendra replied.
    It didn’t sound that good. She didn’t have more than a couple hundred bucks to her name, and she was worried about the cost of her car repair. But she had to spend the night somewhere, so Kendra reached into her wallet. The woman gave her a key.
    “104. Third on the right.”
    “Is there anywhere to eat around here?” Kendra asked.
    “Sure. Buffet across the road.”
    Kendra had been so preoccupied with getting as far away from the city as possible she hadn’t stopped to eat all day. Combine that with her tigress’s raging heat and she was practically starving. Kendra thanked the desk clerk and headed out. She thought about going to her room, but food was the immediate priority. And even though she knew that heading into any kind of public space in her current state wasn’t the best idea, her stomach begged to differ.
    Kendra crossed the road, the warmth from the hot asphalt rising up between her toes. The block building, lit by its neon sign, was the only structure she saw over there, and as she approached, the music got louder and loud er. Almost imperceptibly, the rumbling in her stomach turned into something else. Expectation. Desire. Want. And not just the kind of want you could ignore, but the kind that grabs you like a vice and won’t let go. The kind that spelled trouble. A moment later, she saw the name of the business spelled out in neon.
    MAN-EATERS
    What the hell? What kind of name was that? Kendra opened the door and was hit by a waft of cool air and musky scent. She didn’t have to walk two more steps before she knew exactly what kind of place she was in.
    A shifter bar.
    She smelled tiger everywhere. It wasn’t just a shifter bar. It was a shifter stripper bar.A shiny brass pole sat in the center of a stage. Clearly the performers were between sets, because nobody was dancing. This was not the place to be, Kendra thought. Not in her state. No good would come of it. But she was there now. And the ribs and baked potatoes at the buffet smelled almost as good as the tiger shifters huddled around the stage.
    Kendra’s human side didn’t want to have anything to do with the shifter clientele, but her tigress begged to differ. Her tigress could barely contain herself. She pressed her thighs together as she walked toward the buffet, her panties damp with her heat. The shifters’ stares drilled into her from all corners, their glowing eyes pinning her down. Then there was a whistle—a single catcall and a refrain from the crowd.
    “Dance. Dance. Dance,” the crowd growled.
    Of course they wanted her to dance. What else should she expect? Like it or not, she had walked into their den while in heat. Kendra ignored their calls even though her tigress purred inwardly at the attention. She wanted a man, any man, but she wasn’t going to take them. She had her human side too, and her human side subscribed to a higher standard. Kendra continued up to the bar. A bright-eyed, curvy, dark-haired woman whom Kendra immediately recognized as a fellow tigress worked behind it.
    “How can I help you, doll?”
    “Just looking for something to eat.”
    “You staying at the motel?”
    Kendra nodded.
    “Just passing through?”
    “Car broke down,” Kendra said.
    “Tell you what. Why don’t you come into the back? I’ll grab you a plate. Better to have you under wraps in your current state.”
    Kendra was immediately