On The Prowl (A Steamy MMF Paranormal Tiger Shifter Menage Romance) by Evelyn Grey Page B

that I never saw it.
    Could it possibly be…the stranger from yesterday?
    My heart started to beat harder. I tied back my hair and rearranged my jacket, just in case it was my dreamy tiger man.  I felt cleaner and prettier than I usually did out on the trail, thanks to taking a bath yesterday.
    I went through my usual morning routine, packing up my hammock and sleeping bag as my breakfast cooked.
    Then suddenly I felt a hot flush of embarrassment. I just remembered: had my fellow camper (I was now certain he was the stranger I saw at the river) heard me screaming and moaning as I pleasured myself? Oh god.
    Just as the pang of embarrassment was starting to fade, I heard footsteps coming down the trail from the direction of the campsite.
    I knew this was going to be an awkward encounter.
    Then the stranger emerged.  But sadly it wasn't the hot hunk of a man I had seen the previous day. The young man in front of me was skinnier, a wiry sort of build, with a dirty mop of blond hair and good-looking features, with inquisitive eyes.
    "Hey," he greeted me boyishly.
    I looked him over guardedly. He wasn't at all who I expected him to be. "Hey," I replied. I was crushed; I really wanted him to be the hot guy from yesterday.
    "Want some bacon?"
    "Uh, sure."  You can’t ever eat enough while hiking all day, and some extra fuel for the long miles ahead sounded wonderful. Besides, my mouth was already watering at the thought of something more savory than noodles and dehydrated space-food.
    Speaking of being out for a long time...this guy really seemed like he had been hiking for months. Judging by the way his dirty hair was turning into dreadlocks, and his overall slovenly appearance, he'd crossed over from being a through-hiker into becoming some sort of hippy bum. Although I had to admit his body was fit and attractive, and he was good-looking; with a haircut and a shave, I'd have been all over him.
    We arrived at his campsite, and there was a massive amount of bacon in a skillet, sizzling over an open fire.
    "You're eating a lot of bacon," I observed warily. I had met my share of weirdos out on the trail, but this guy took the cake.
    "I like bacon," he said simply, brushing the hair out of his eyes and giving me an awkward smile. This guy had clearly lost it. I'd have to start hiking early today, and put in some distance between me and this freak.  I'd been warned about people like him, the ones that never came out of the woods. Hopefully I could put in some hard miles today, and I'd never see him again.
    I quickly ate a couple strips of bacon to mollify him, as he watched. Then I hurriedly said goodbye and wished him well on his journey, before jogging back down to my pack. I threw the hateful, heavy thing on my back and left, pushing myself to hike a faster pace than usual.
    I stopped around one, for a late lunch, hoping to make it quick so I could hike a good amount before the sun went down. I found a nice spot, overlooking the valley and the trail, and set out my stuff on a large, flat boulder. I settled in and ate my lunch, before the warm sunshine on my body convinced me to strip off my shirt and lay face-down on the rock, soaking in the rays.
    Just for ten minutes, I told myself. But a few minutes later I fell asleep.
    I awoke with a start. How long had I been lying there? I hoped to put in some hard miles today after the incident this morning, but now I was blowing it.
    I rolled over, blinking and groping for my shirt.
    But it was gone!
    How could my shirt be gone?!
    I covered myself with my arm, in a panic. And then I discovered, with a sinking feeling, that my pack was gone as well. Oh my God. What was happening?
    "Ma'am, are you alright?" I heard a voice coming from the trail. It was the hippy. Could I trust him? Or was he the one who had taken my stuff? With a sudden wave of panic I realized the latter was probably true.
    "Stay away from me," I demanded. I looked around for a rock or a stick to use as a weapon.
    "I