Shifters' Storm (20 page)

Well-versed in what her body needed, he ran his fingers between their bodies and settled a forefinger over her clit. The tendons stood out on her neck, and he thought she might be trying to say something but couldn’t, because Ber had started fucking her mouth.

Matching the bear shifter’s rhythm, Songan slipped deep into Rane. He moved in slow motion with every muscle working smooth and sure and tirelessly. Her inner tissues gliding over his cock were magical. How could he envy or resent Ber when so much of her belonged to him?

But maybe it was he who’d fallen under her spell.

Rane had been matching his thrusts. Now her movements stuttered and then stopped, only to start up again. Studying her, he concluded she was trying to focus on Ber’s needs as well as his, but this was
his
time. His dance.

Drawing in a deep breath that held traces of the storm, he captured her hard clit. Her muscles clenched. He picked up his pace. She tightened her grip on his wrist. Her head thrashed, yet she somehow kept her mouth around Ber.

Fire and flames coursed through Songan’s body. He was lost. Gone. Past the point of pulling back. Beyond sanity.

“Now! Now!”

What Rane was doing no longer mattered. He cared nothing about Ber. Diving deep and then deeper still, he threw back his head and bellowed. The awful-wonderful pressure shattered, and he exploded inside his woman.

Chapter Eighteen

Arching as far off the bed as she could, Rane concentrated on Songan’s shuddering release. God but she loved the feel of his hot gift speeding through her! Some had slipped past their locked bodies and was undoubtedly soaking the spread, but she didn’t care.

Her lover—one of her lovers—had just blessed her in the most intimate way. His cock still pulsed inside her, and his fingers against her clit spasmed.

Any other time, she probably would have climaxed with him. She hadn’t, because Ber’s cock distracted her. She reveled in the feel of the newcomer to her world against her tongue, teeth and the insides of her cheeks.

When she turned her head to the side, Ber pulled back and leaned left and then right. Maybe he wanted her to focus on him, but Songan had been part of her world for years.

Still holding on to Ber, she managed to lock eyes with Songan. He looked, as she knew he would, like a man who’d lost touch with reality. His eyes were slightly glazed, and his mouth sagged. The fingers on her clit no longer moved. Releasing one of his wrists, she pushed against his belly to let him know she wanted him to back away. Take his cock with him.

To her surprise, he didn’t resist, and as he withdrew, their shared juices dribbled down her crack. Wet heat reached her rear opening. Songan wiped his hand on her belly. Dizzy and lost, she tried to close her hand around Songan’s cock, but it was so wet her fingers slid off. Her clit felt abandoned, discarded, unwanted.

Barely aware of what she was doing, she cupped Songan’s balls and lifted. His cock glided over the space between her pussy and ass. What a fool she’d been to think he no longer had a use for her. Songan cared for her as much as he was capable of.

Ber. She still had him in her mouth and he was waiting for her to—to what?

She swallowed. Grunting, Ber pushed into her, his tip touching the back of her throat. She felt the sweet, rounded end of Songan’s cock at her rear entrance.

Float. Yes, that’s what she’d do. Just be. Exist. Let the men take care of all her needs. Embrace desire full on.

Thoughts of what she most needed spun through her. She couldn’t drift after all. Her aching, demanding body wouldn’t allow it.

Cool air touched her inner thighs. Songan had backed away so their bodies no longer touched. Telegraphing nothing of his intentions, he ran two fingers inside her. At the same time, he pressed down on her mons so she was trapped between the two sensations.

Wonderfully trapped.

Ber was at cross-purposes to her with his arms on one side of her head and his legs on the other. Keeping her in place. Offering her no freedom. He wasn’t near her lower body, but Songan was.

Her jaw muscles started to ache, prompting her to push against Ber’s belly much as she’d recently done to Songan. Rounding his spine, the bear shifter lifted himself so she could turn her head to the side. She opened her mouth, and his cock slipped out.

Songan’s fingers in her curled, causing the pressure on her mons to increase. If he kept that up, would his hands touch? Could he break her in two?

Not broken. More like coming together and becoming complete.

Reaching, she reclaimed Ber’s cock and sucked it into her. She struggled to bring her legs together so she could acknowledge Songan.

Open and vulnerable, she tried to grab hold of Ber, but her arms had become heavy. Her ability to focus was shot. It was easier to cradle her breasts while Ber’s shaft claimed her mouth and her lips slid over his length and Songan’s fingers grazed her trigger.

One moment she knew who was doing what to whom. The next she was being sucked into a swirling vortex. Her jaw muscles tightened around Ber, her fingers captured her nipples, and Songan’s knowing fingers fucked her. All three sensations collided, and she flew off in countless directions.

Crouched above Rane, Ber held his breath. He’d seen a few women climax, but it hadn’t been like this. Rane trembled as if she’d stepped onto a downed electrical line. Despite his cock plugging her mouth, she whimpered repeatedly. Positioned as he was, he couldn’t see her expression. Besides, her teeth raking his length nearly sent him on the same journey. The way her throat worked made him think she was trying to swallow him. Alert but not alarmed, he waited for her to relax a little before reluctantly drawing free.

This was her time.

Rocking back on his heels, he sat near her head and studied what was happening to her. Her fingers continued to clutch her breasts, and her eyes had all but rolled back in her head. He didn’t ask if she was all right because she probably couldn’t hear, let alone answer.

Just as he wondered if she’d passed out, she sighed. She let go of her breasts, and her arms floated to her sides. After moistening his forefinger by putting it in his mouth, he lightly touched the base of her throat. She gave no indication she was aware of what he was doing. Moments ago her lips had been around his now lonely and air-cooling erection. Not giving himself time to question what he was doing, he kissed her. She sighed again.

“She’s done,” Songan said. “Give her time.”

Reluctantly straightening, Ber looked at the kneeling elk shifter. Songan was stroking her thighs. If what glistened on the fingers of his right hand spoke the truth, they’d recently been inside her. No wonder she was done.

“I’m—all right. Just shaky.”

Ber had spent his human time near Inuit women whose lives revolved around the basics of shelter, food and safety. They enjoyed sex, he knew that from personal experience, but he couldn’t imagine any of them looking as used up as Rane did.

“Shit.” She laboriously sat up. “I know you’re both waiting for me to say something, but I’m said out.”

She’d sagged so much he wondered if he’d have to grab her to keep her from falling forward. Glancing at Songan, he concluded the elk shifter was having the same thoughts.

Suddenly he understood why she’d said what she had. It wasn’t finding words that was beyond her, it was saying the right things to the right man.

If she had to choose one over the other, which would it be?

Looking unsteady, she stood and walked over to the water jug. Picking it up with both hands, she drank. When she was done, she handed it to Songan, who did the same. After wiping the opening, Songan extended the jug to him. The water was stale but satisfied his thirst. By the time Ber had finished, Rane had picked up her panties and was stepping into them.

“I need a shower.” She didn’t sound as if she cared. “But it’ll have to wait. Where’s the flashlight?”

“Rane,” Songan said. “We can’t go outside.”

Just like that, she was fully alert. “Why not?”

“It’s snowing.”

“So?” Not bothering with her bra, she yanked her top over her head.

“If there’s anything left, any signs, the snow has covered them.”

“No. Damn it, no.”

Rushing her movements, she hauled her jeans into place.

“Listen to me,” Ber said. His own nudity didn’t bother him, but if Rane was determined to go outside, he needed to be ready, which was why he reached for his briefs. “We can’t change the weather. I’m sorry, believe me I am. I know you wanted to try to find where—”

“It’s not just that,” she shot back. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy for trying to retrace my mother’s last steps. Maybe I am. All I know is that might be the only chance I have to—there might be something, some clue the police missed.”

“And if there isn’t?”

His question hit her hard, but much as Ber wished he could take back his words, he’d said what he’d had to. Rane no longer resembled a woman who’d just been repeatedly fucked. Instead she looked as if she was being ripped apart.

Whimpering, she sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands. “You don’t understand.”

“Tell me.”

Silence. Then: “I blame myself.”

He’d been about to put on his jeans, but with her words, that no longer mattered. Like him, Songan’s attention was locked on her.

“Why?” he asked. Should he try to comfort her or give her some space?

“We’d argued,” she whispered, not looking up. “Maybe the worst disagreement we’ve ever had. She tried to get me to admit that these mountains are in my blood and I was being a fool for trying to stay away. I told her it was my life. She’d done her job. Now it was my turn to make my decisions.”

“You were right,” he ventured, though he wasn’t sure about such things. “It is your life.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Barely able to hear her, he waited her out by turning his attention to getting dressed. Songan was doing the same.

“The thing is,” she said at length, “Mom was right. I was a fool for not admitting she knew what she was talking about.”

“Why not?”

She tried to blow a lock of hair off her face. “I was so damn sure I was doing the right thing when I left Chinook. That finding myself could only happen if I was living somewhere else. I didn’t want to admit I’d wasted all that time.”

“It wasn’t wasted. You have a career.”

“Yeah, the same one Mom did. Doesn’t that say something? She and I are so much alike—were so much alike.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “This forest never let her go. It kept her here. I think—maybe part of her envied me for getting away, but she absolutely believed I’d return. She wanted to spare me all that struggling.”

Rane hadn’t looked up during her speech. He wasn’t sure how aware she was of his and Songan’s presence.

“What are you saying?” he asked. Much as he wanted to spare her more pain, he didn’t believe he had a choice but had to continue. “You think the argument made it impossible for her to concentrate on where she was or what she was doing? It made her careless?”

He didn’t know how to comfort women, had never been shown how such things were done, and yet he had no doubt he was doing the right thing when he walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. At least she wasn’t crying. Tears undid him.

“Rane, your mother was murdered. Shot. We’ll never know if anything she did or didn’t do would have prevented that from happening.”

When Rane looked up at him with agony-filled eyes, it took all he had not to apologize.

“She shouldn’t have died.”

“I agree. But you feeling guilty doesn’t change anything. You can’t bring her back to life. She wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”

“Easier said than done.”

Much as he hated hearing that, at least her spark was back. “Were
you
able to function after that argument? You didn’t take to bed and pull the covers over your head.”

“Of course not.”

“Then?”

When she shrugged, he reluctantly took his hands off her.

“I lost the most important person in my life under horrific circumstances,” she said after a moment. “Don’t blame me because my thinking’s messed up.”

“We don’t,” Songan said. “We never will.”

Rane looked at where she’d left her socks and boots. Much as he preferred her naked, Ber picked them up and handed them to her. She didn’t seem as devastated as when she’d made her confession, but his guess was she still had a long way to go before she was at peace with herself. From the moment she’d learned of her mother’s death, she’d harbored the hope that she could somehow redeem herself by coming here. A snowstorm would stop most people, but not only was she still determined, she wasn’t alone. Songan and he were here.

“What do you think?” he asked Songan, who was tying his boots but hadn’t yet put on his shirt. “There’s more wind than snow. If we take off right now—”

Songan held up a hand and jerked his head at the window. “What was that?”

“The wind?” Rane asked softly.

“Maybe.” Songan didn’t look convinced.

Uneasy, Ber slipped over to the small window. The close-growing trees made studying their surroundings all but impossible. It was far from a whiteout out there but cold enough that the snow was sticking. He hated the idea of letting Rane go outside, but if the snow kept up, the ground might stay covered until spring.

I don’t see anything,
he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t form. Something had him on alert.

“What if it’s
them
?” Rane whispered. “Whoever killed my mother.”

Why anyone would come here in this weather made no sense—unless there was evidence to hide. As another possibility struck, he turned toward Songan.

“People knew she was coming up here,” he said. “What if someone followed us?”

Songan shook his head. “We would have heard, sensed. But if they were already up here—”

“Doing what?” Rane interrupted.

Feeling his way, Ber voiced his theory that whoever had shot her mother and dragged her away from the kill spot must have been concerned he’d left clues behind. “You told some folks you were going to check out Wolverine,” he told her. “If I’m right, and I don’t know if I am, maybe they were already here when we arrived.”