Shift Just Got Real (Bear Bites Book 3) (2 page)

I
ate her food
. I sat in her house. I was close enough to touch her. Winded, I rest in the woods just beyond her small townhouse. I could feed off this interaction for an entire season.

I wish I was more…polished, like Eli the Lodge owner, or had an easier way with the ladies, like Leo. But I was born with an ugly mug and a big brute of a body, and I have the social charm of an ant.

I’m the sow’s ear, and no amount of finagling will make me into a pretty purse. Being alone suits me. I don’t like a lot of people. Humans smell weird, and bears get my dander up. I keep wanting to fight for dominance even though there’s no point. We don’t really have packs, and I leave the governing to Eli since he appears to enjoy it and has, so far, done a decent job.

I can’t make small talk. I know I made Ryann feel awkward at dinner, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wouldn’t mark me as a complete psychopath. Hey, Ryann, mind if I sweep this all on the floor and set you on the table? Because you smell like honey heaven, and what you’ve got between your legs is going to taste better on my tongue than anything cooked up on that stove.

I stare at my big palms and lick my lips at the thought of sliding them up her thighs and spreading her legs apart until her pussy opens like a bud at the first whistle of spring.

A flicker of white catches my eye. My head jerks up, and I scan the surroundings. The parking lot looks empty. I sniff a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary. Trash to my right. Gasoline from the parked cars. Heated asphalt. Spaghetti sauce. Ryann’s arousal. Iron—

I halt and backtrack mentally. Ryann’s arousal? I sniff again. It’s faint, but there’s something in the area that smells of desire and the warm scent of her skin. The white flickers in the corner of my eye again. I rise and pad closer to Ryann’s window.

The large conifers shield me from the street, but the curtains are open, and I can see directly inside.

The vision that greets me has me staggering to my knees. Ryann. Open. Her fingers. Touch.

I can’t form complete sentences. The white must have been her curtain waving in the breeze. I crawl forward.

Her hand moves up and down slowly as she strokes herself. With her other hand, she touches her bare breasts, squeezing one and then the other.

My mouth waters as the aroma of her want grows stronger. I strain forward, trying to hear the sounds she’s making. Is she moaning? Is her pussy wet enough that there’s a naughty sucking noise when she drives her fingers inside her cunt?

I swipe an unsteady hand across my mouth. I could fill her pussy up with my fingers and lick that little clit with my tongue. Whatever she wants, I could give her.

I’d lap her until her essences coat my throat and my cheeks are bruised by the force of her thighs clenched around my face as I devour her. I creep closer, and her hands move faster. She’s peaking. Her beautiful golden skin is flushed with desire.

Shamelessly, I watch her and imagine doing a dozen dirty things to her. If I were inside I’d move her away from the window and carry her into the bedroom. Once there, I’d put her over my knee and spank her until her ass was rosy red for standing in front of the window, fingering herself where any asshole could see her.

Then I’d slide two fingers inside her cunt and pump her until she came. That’d be her first orgasm. She’d let out a little cry because it’d be a short one. It wouldn’t matter because there would be more. So much more.

After she came, I’d flip her onto her back and stick my face between her legs. I’d spread her wide, holding her open so she couldn’t escape. I’d lash her with my tongue licking from her asshole to her clit and then back again. I’d torment her with just my tongue until she was pulling at my hair and begging me to finish it.

Only then would I harden my tongue and arrow it into her sopping cunt. I’d drink her down until my face was covered with her juices.

And I still wouldn’t be done. Oh no. I’d flip her over then because my cock would be rock hard and aching like a motherfucker, much as it is right now. It’d be huge, pulsing red, and dripping with pre-come.

But first, I’d bend over and spread those ass cheeks. She’d squirm, all innocent, because no one has ever touched her there before. But she’d not breathe a word of protest as I’d rim her puckered skin with my tongue and make shallow stabs until she was weeping with need.

Once she was ready, I’d take my cock in hand and slowly, very carefully because she’s tight and untried, work my shaft inside her virgin pussy.

We’d have to stop and pause every inch or so because I’m so big and she’s so tiny. But all the while, she’d be begging for me to fill her up, fill all her empty spaces.

When I close that last distance, when I’m balls deep in her, I’ll drop my head to the space between her shoulder blades and gather up all my self-control so I won’t go crazy, pounding into her.

Drenched with sweat, lubricated by our mutual wants, I’d start moving, shafting her slowly. She’d grunt into the mattress with every thrust. And as we made love, she’d squirm her ass against my groin and start begging me to fuck her harder, faster. I’d reach around and roll that clit between my fingers until she’d shoot off like a firework on the Fourth of July.

I roar my own desire, loud. A gasp shakes me out of my fantasy. Framed by the window, Ryann is staring at me, open-mouthed. A wetness seeps onto my fingers. I look down and see that I’ve come on my hand.

I’d been so caught up in my damn fantasy, I hadn’t realized that I walked all the way to Ryann’s window, whipped out my dick, and started jacking it right in front of her.

Her hand spreads like a starfish on the window. She may have called my name. I don’t know. Embarrassment is roaring through my ears, and I turn away, shifting into bear form and running toward the woods.

Sheriff Gant is a bear shifter like me, but this even he might not be able to overlook.

I run across the parking lot and then leap into the dark edge of the forest. Shame rides me hard, and I don’t even notice the trap until I’m on top of it.

The metal teeth clamp around my back left paw.

Fuck!

I release an angry yowl and shift back, but the clamp only tightens on my ankle. The metal teeth sink into my skin, breaking through the flesh and tearing at my veins and bones. I try to rip it off with my hands, but the iron is too damn strong.

Naked, I stand there, panting and in pain. I need to get help. Sheriff Gant is the closest, but I might have to avoid him. This late at night, I could get help either at the tavern or the Lodge. I opt for the Lodge.

The sooner I get there, the better chance I have of healing my wound. I start to shift back into a bear when I hear a rustle in the woods.

“Mal? Mal?”

It’s Ryann calling for me.

Shit. I look down at my naked body. Shifting is easy for us bears, but something in the process eats our clothing, and when we shift back, we’re naked as the day we were born.

Most of the shifters in the area contribute to caches in the woods that hold food, water, and clothing. But the shallow part of the forest, just on the edge of human territory and close to pack quarters, won’t have any of those caches.

And even if there was one, I wouldn’t get to it in time. I struggle to think of an excuse that Ryann will buy, and since I can’t figure one out, I decide to warn her away.

“It’s dangerous back here, Ryann. There’s a trap. Maybe more than one. Stay where you are.”

“I heard you yell.” Her voice is closer now. “Are you hurt? I can help you. I’ve learned some first-aid techniques at the Rescue Center. I mean, it was for wolves, but I want to help.”

“No. I don’t need your help,” I bite out more sharply than I intend.

“Oh.” Her voice is closer still, and there’s a tendril of hurt laced through that small sound. “Are you sure? It sounded really painful.”

“I’m fine. Good, really.” My ankle throbs in mockery of my claim.

“I think I should look at it,” she insists.

And I don’t have it in me to drive her away with more terse and hurtful words. “I’m not…” I struggle to get the words out. “I’m not decent. I don’t think you want to see me like this.”

Her breath hitches. “Like what? Like you were outside my window?”

An agonized groan seeps out of me. “I’m sorry for that. Real sorry. You can talk to the sheriff about it. I won’t…” Won’t what? Come around again? That’d be a lie. Even if Sheriff Gant locked me up, I’d be back the minute I was out. “You won’t see me again,” I finish. At least I could ensure that.

“I—I wanted to see you, Mal.” Her figure breaks through the foliage to stand before me. She gasps at the sight of my nakedness, but I’m too busy devouring her with my eyes to care. She’s wearing tiny shorts and a T-shirt and a pair of boots. The outfit should look ridiculous, but it only makes my mouth run dry and my hands curl into fists. The longing that sweeps over me drowns out any pain from the trap. “I know you’ve been watching me, and I wanted you to know it was okay. I invited you to dinner tonight because I thought…” She bites her lip, and my heart starts racing. “I thought you might want to go out sometime.”

“You want to go out with me?” I croak. Maybe the pain has intensified so severely that I’m going into shock.

“Only if you do. I mean, I don’t want to force myself on you.” Even in the moonlight I can see her blush. “I know I’m young, and you probably want someone more experienced.”

“Ryann,” I groan. “I’m too old and too ugly for a beautiful girl like you. You should be with some young punk rather than me.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not interested in anyone else, and if my age doesn’t bother you, why should your age bother me?” She closes the distance between us and cradles my face gently between her palms. “Now how are we going to get this off? Can you shift?”

I stare at her with open-mouthed shock.

M
al stares
at me like I’ve grown another head.

All right, I’ve shocked the man. But honestly? The fact that Pine Falls is home to a lot of shifters is the worst-kept secret in the town, right up there with the spa lady banging the sporting goods guy. Not much stays hidden in a town like Pine Falls, and it’s safer for everyone if most of the locals (especially the gun-toting ones) are on the up and up. My Aunt Mary is a wolf expert in these parts, and so she occasionally has business with the local werewolf pack too. Most of the Pine Falls residents are bears, she told me when I first moved here. It’s something that’s known but not discussed.

And after tonight? I guessed that Mal was my big friendly bear I’ve seen over and over again. Bear suits him—all big body and quiet strength.

I might have freaked him out with my forthrightness, though. “You can yell at me when I get you home,” I tell him. “For now, can you shift and get out of the trap?”

His mouth opens, then snaps shut, and he looks away. “I…”

“We can talk things over when you get back to my place.”

Mal frowns.

“Don’t argue with me,” I tell him, and cross my arms so I can seem less rattled than I am.

“Or what?” he growls.

“Or I’m going to go right back up to my window and masturbate in the hopes that one of my neighbors sees me,” I snap back, since that’s the first thing I can think of that will piss him off.

It works, though. His eyes narrow. “This is ridiculous.”

“Just do it,” I tell him. “I’ll find you something to wear. I promise.” I hate the thought of seeing him in so much pain, and all this dithering over shifting and whether or not my neighbor watches me touch myself? This isn’t helping. “
Now,
Mal.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to keep protesting. But then he snarls at me, squares his shoulders, and then hair begins to sprout all over his body. I realize he’s one step away from an Incredible Hulk moment, and I close my eyes so I don’t embarrass him. I don’t know how shifters feel about shifting, but if it’s anything like me trying to fit into a pair of skinny jeans fresh out of the dryer, it’s not pretty. So I keep my eyes closed and wait for him to let me know when he’s done.

I hear a pained groan and open my eyes. Sure enough, there’s the bear I’ve been seeing from my window, his leg stuck in the trap. I kneel down. The trap is bulging around his leg—it tightened around his human ankle, and his bear one is that much larger. As he strains against the trap, I pull against it. With his increased power in his bear form, we’re able to pry it open just enough for him to slide his foot out of there, and with a bellow of pain, he staggers away.

I let the trap go and just narrowly escape snapping my own fingers in it. “We should tell the sheriff about this damn thing,” I say, getting to my feet and brushing the dirt off my hands. “These are illegal.”

He sits on his haunches and lifts one back leg to examine it. As he does, there’s a look on his face that tells me that he’s not going to forget how irritated he is at me. Funny how a bear’s face can communicate something like that.

“Oh, stop it,” I tell him. “It’s not like I put that trap out here.” I gesture at my townhouse. “Now, come on. Let’s get you to my place so I can bandage that leg for you, all right?”

He doesn’t move. Great. Now I have a bear that’s going to be stubborn about this.

“Seriously, Mal? You got hurt looking in after me, and I’m freezing out here.” My legs are barely covered by my booty shorts, and the night’s cold. I don’t have a pelt like he does, either. “Please just come inside with me? I promise not to hit on you again, okay?”

He grunts and lumbers to his feet. Limping, he starts to head toward my house. It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest he change back to human form, but then I remember that in human form, it’s one of his ankles, and maybe it’s easier to walk on three legs. I trot ahead of him to open the back door. Hopefully, the neighbors won’t see this.

Oh, who am I kidding? The neighbors are probably bears too.

I slip inside a few steps ahead of him and rush to get a few towels out of the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable,” I call out, and wince. Comfortable? He’s going to be naked and wounded. There’s not a lot about that situation that screams ‘comfort.’ I think for a moment, and then grab a couple of beers out of the fridge. He’s probably going to need a drink, and it’ll give him something to do with his hands.

And then I think about what he was doing with his hands (and his hands
on
his cock) and get all flushed and bothered. This evening has just turned into a giant mess, hasn’t it? I’m so disappointed.

I keep my expression carefully neutral as I head into the living room. Mal is there, on my sofa, completely naked. He’s holding a throw pillow over his junk and has one leg propped up. I’m happy to see the skin doesn’t seem to be broken, but his ankle is extremely swollen and starting to bruise. Poor Mal.

I make a soft sound of sympathy at the sight of it. “That’s all my fault.”

“It’s not,” he says, voice gruff. “Don’t worry about it.”

I give him a wry look and then offer him a towel. “Put that over your junk if it’ll make you feel better. I need that pillow for your foot.” I hand him the towel and then turn my back so he can make himself comfortable, though I wouldn’t mind taking a better look at what he’s got to show me. I’ve always been attracted to Mal. He thinks he’s ugly; I think he’s rugged. He thinks he’s too old for me; I think he’s experienced.

If anything, I’m the sad end of this equation—an average human woman with not a lot to offer but enthusiasm. I kick off my boots and turn around, half-hoping I’ll catch him showing a bit of skin.

Nope. When I look over, he’s got the towel carefully covering his loins, and I see nothing but enormous, muscular thighs, a tight stomach, and shoulders that seem to go on for miles. My mouth gets dry at the sight. I ignore the scowl he’s shooting my way and bend over to grasp the pillow. “Let me know if I hurt you,” I tell him as I gently take his big leg and lift it so I can slide the pillow underneath his ankle.

I might also bend over in a way that lets me stick my ass in his face a bit. Maybe.

Mal doesn’t respond, though, and I carefully examine his leg. “I don’t think there was enough force to snap bone. You’re probably just going to have a bad bruise and a lot of soreness for the next few days. Let me get you some ice.” I straighten and smile at him, then saunter to the kitchen.

I return a moment later with a bag of frozen peas and another towel. Mal’s sitting on my couch, looking damn uncomfortable. His hands are now clasped in front of the towel—hiding a hard-on, possibly? I’m encouraged at the thought, and my movements become a little flirtier, more sensual. When I lean over to put the towel on his leg, I make sure I do so in a way that lets my shirt gape at the neck so I can flash him some cleavage. I set the frozen peas down on top of the towel, and then make soft clucking noises in my throat as I press the peas gently on the sore spots. “How does that feel?”

He grunts.

I move forward and straddle his leg, reaching for a beer. “You want one of these? I got them for you.”

“I’m fine.” His words are gruff, harsh.

Ah. He’s shutting down on me. Instead of being hurt, though, I’m encouraged. Mal seems to shut down or run away when he’s attracted to me, so this is a sure sign that he’s affected by my presence.

“Nonsense,” I tell him, and use the edge of my shirt to twist the cap off the top. I offer it to him, and he takes it reluctantly. I bite my lip and watch him as he takes a few gulps. There’s something about his throat that I find utterly fascinating. Maybe because his neck is so big and strong? My nipples harden, and I imagine licking the cords of that thick throat. Mmm.

He notices me staring and freezes in place. “You gonna sit there and watch me?”

“Maybe.” I smile at him. “That so bad?”

His jaw clenches, and he puts the beer down on an end table. “I should get going.”

“Nope,” I say quickly and put a hand on his chest to stop him. “I’m going to take care of you. It’s my fault you got hurt. I’m going to be at your beck and call until that leg gets better.” I slide a little closer to him. “Now…tell me what you want.”

He glares up at me. After a moment, he says, “How did you know I was a bear?”

Oh, dammit, really? I pretty much hand myself to him on a silver platter and this is what he wants to talk about? “Aunt Mary works closely with a lot of the local wolves. One of them spilled the beans.”

“Damn yammering wolves.” He shakes his head, disgusted.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like everyone works super hard at keeping it a secret. You were a bear lurking right in my backyard,” I exclaim. “Seriously. I’d have to be blind not to figure things out with my job. Half the wolves we track are also human. We just make sure to keep them off the appropriate radars.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I tell him. My fingers wiggle against his chest. He’s got a lot of chest hair, and instead of being weirded out by it, I’m incredibly aroused. He’s just so damn masculine. “I promise your secret is safe with me. Cross my heart.” With my other hand, I deliberately drag my finger over my loose breasts. There’s no bra under my T-shirt, and I hope he notices that.

His gaze flicks to my chest, and his expression hardens. “Ryann.”

“Yes?”

“You fuckin’ with me?”

“Actually…I’m throwing myself at you. I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.”