She was so gorgeous, with all that coppery hair spilled out across the chair behind her, leaving her beautiful, heart-shaped face unframed. Cole traced the lines of that face, lingering on a beauty mark on her upper right cheek bone for a moment, then moving downward to her cupid’s bow lips, which he couldn’t seem to get enough of.
“I want to stay inside you all night.”
She smiled shyly up at him, another blush staining her cheeks. “I don’t think I could handle your cock for much longer… it’s so damn big…perfect.” She pulled him in for another kiss, soft and slow at first, and then she grew more demanding, nipping and sucking at his lips and tongue, as she grinded her hips furiously against his. He answered her unspoken request, increasing the pace, until he could hear the wet slap of his flesh against hers. She met him thrust for thrust, holding on tightly until the tremors wracked her body again, and she arched her back, crying out his name again.
Suddenly, her body arched against him in that way that told him she was seconds from flying over the edge with reckless abandon. She grinded against him, desperate to reach that place, wanting him to give her exactly what she needed to get there. He reached out and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the bed. She was now under his control, and she loved it, as she squirmed under him, her hips meeting his, in a steady, relentless rhythm.
Within minutes, she was coming, her cries muffled by his hard, passionate kisses. He growled in response at the sound of his name on her lips, her groans of satisfaction, urging him on.
Cole couldn’t hold back any longer. The sensation of being inside of her was too intense, the curve of her body was driving him crazy with desire. He thrusted wildly, every ounce of tension spilling out of him, as waves of pleasure rushed through his body, leaving him breathless and weak. Gasping, he collapsed against her, completely spent and satiated for the first time in… well, he wasn’t sure how long it had been. But he didn’t care. This woman was different…special, in a way. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to forget her so easily, when the time came. And that terrified him.
* * *
“Umm, Cole? Mind giving me some breathing room?” Angela giggled.
“Huh?” he asked groggily, his warm breath tickling her neck.
Groaning, Angela tapped her fingers insistently against his chest. “Need. To. Breathe. Now.”
“Oh, sorry.” He rolled off of her, chuckling. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”
Angela took a deep breath, and stretched. “No worries. You didn’t do me any lasting harm.”
A wicked glint lit his gorgeous eyes, and before she could react, he’d grabbed her hand, and pulled her close to him. Giggles erupted from her chest, as he rolled on top of her, and started tickling her mercilessly, his powerful fingers gentle, as they found all of her tickle spots, and took full advantage.
“Stop! STOP!” she shrieked breathlessly, her abs aching as tears of laughter streamed out of the corners of her eyes. “I swear I’m going to scream, if you don’t stop. I can’t take it!”
He pulled back instantly. “Am I hurting you?” Concerned filled his eyes, and he tilted his head to the side, as though he was analyzing her.
Angela frowned, as she sat up, cupping his face, as she turned his head so he would look at her. “No, not at all. I know you’d never hurt me.”
His eyes darkened then, a sneer curling his lip. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you know that?”
Angela sucked in a breath. “Because I’ve just spent the last hour naked, in bed with you, and you haven’t taken advantage of me yet?”
“Oh, I’ve taken advantage, alright.” His jaw flexed, a sexy smile curving his lips. “And I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.”
He kissed a path down her neck, to nibble near her collarbone, and she shivered. He crushed her in his arms, his mouth coming down on hers, bruising her lips in a kiss that seared her down to her bare toes. She reacted instantly, instinctively, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to meet him fully. “You can take advantage of me again right now, if you want,” she whispered, breathlessly.
“You read my mind, woman,” he growled.
Chapter Six
The aroma of coffee, and pastries woke Angela, long before she was ready to open her eyes. Groaning, she turned her face into the pillow, and tried to block out the scent, but the sounds of Cole moving around in the kitchen caught her attention. Thoughts like, What the hell is he doing out there? prodded at her consciousness, until she was firmly pulled from the sinking pool of darkness that was sleep, and back into the light again.
“Shit,” she muttered, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was 10:00am, which meant she’d only gotten four hours of sleep. Sitting up, she came face to face with her reflection in the mirror on the wall, and debated whether or not to splash some water over her make-up streaked face, or run a brush through her tangled hair, before shuffling off to find the source of the aroma that had woken her up.
Lifting her chin, she dragged her eyes away from the mirror, and strolled into the kitchen, as if she didn’t look like the latest reject from an episode of The Walking Dead. Cole was standing behind the kitchen counter, pouring a cup of coffee, his actions largely obscured by the ginormous white paper bag at his elbow. Angela squinted at it, trying to determine the contents.
Cole glanced up at her with a smile, then raised an eyebrow. “You can look inside the bag, you know.”
He pushed the bag toward her, then plucked a second cup of coffee from the counter, and placed it up on the countertop. “I went out, and grabbed some breakfast while you were snoring away in there. Figured we should fuel up, before we head out.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she replied, hopping up onto one of the cherry red barstools. “But I don’t snore.” She gulped down the entire cup of coffee, then pulled out an apple fritter and an egg and cheese croissant. Holy Jesus, thank God, her body seemed to cry, out as the food hit her stomach. She was starving, and because of the sleep deprivation, she was going to need a hell of a lot more fuel.
She worked her way through two croissants and an apple fritter, and tried to ignore the fact that Cole’s eyes were on her the whole time. Unfortunately, her subconscious had better ideas. Is he staring at the rat’s nest on my head? Do I have apple filling on my cheek?
“You got the directions to the race track?” she asked, as she slipped off the stool, wiping croissant flakes from her cheeks, and feeling marginally normal again.
“Already programmed it into the GPS, beautiful.”
“Great. I’m grabbing a quick shower. Be ready to leave in half hour, okay?” She turned away.
“You got it, boss,” he said sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes, fighting the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
* * *
Cole tried to focus on the GPS’s directions, as he drove the car through mildly hellish San Francisco traffic, but the guilt he’d been carrying since last night was still burning a hole through his chest, and it was making it much more difficult to concentrate, than expected. He’d lain in bed all night, staring up at the ceiling. and wondering why the fuck he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. Sleeping with her only brought on more complications, and his life was already far too complicated, as it was.
Really, what was wrong with him that he felt compelled to sleep with the sexy shifter?
“Hey! Turn right!” Angela rapped him on the arm.
Cole cussed under his breath, as he realized he was in the wrong lane. He jerked the steering wheel, cutting off a white car, and earning himself a barrage of one-fingered salutes, and a cacophony of blaring horns. Ignoring it all, he turned the corner and floored the gas, effectively putting some distance between him and the car, before he was forced to switch lanes again.
“Hey,” Angela hissed. “What the hell just happened back there? Do you need me to drive?”
“No,” Cole growled, through clenched teeth. “We’re good.”
<
br /> Except, of course, that wasn’t true, he thought, as he turned down another street, and headed onto the Bay Bridge. He knew it wasn’t good, as he caught a glimpse of the hurt and confusion in Angela’s eyes, before she turned her gaze to the glistening waters of the San Francisco Bay racing past them, as they crossed over into Oakland. He’d been reserved with her all morning, and had intentionally fractured whatever tentative tie had been forming between them, but he knew he had to fix it, if he wanted them to be able to work together smoothly.
But part of the problem was that he wasn’t sure that he actually wanted to fix it. A hybrid developing ties with a full-blooded shifter? Such things were unheard of, for a reason. Hybrids were considered volatile and dangerous by supernatural beings as a whole, since the merging of genes from different races, resulted in unpredictable powers and abilities, as well as occasional mental instability, depending on the pairing.
As far as he knew, a mage-and-shifter hybrid wasn’t one of the more unstable match-up’s, but because both sides felt so strongly about preserving bloodlines, hybrids tended to be hunted and destroyed. Her family would never welcome him with open arms, which meant there was no future for them, since for a shifter, pack or clan approval meant everything.
If he did try to patch things up with her, it would only bring them closer together, and what was the point if, in the end, they would have to part separate ways? Why did he need to cause himself the needless pain of having to leave behind something he wanted, needed, craved? If it wasn’t available to him in the first place, there was nothing to miss.
If you wanted to make sure you had nothing to miss, you shouldn’t have had sex with her last night because she’s not a girl easily forgotten, you idiot. Even to a drifter, like you.
Cole growled at the voices in his head. He really didn’t know what he had been thinking last night, but it couldn’t be undone, and the truth of it was inescapable. Every time he looked at Angela, he thought about how she’d looked spread out on the bed beneath him, how her curves had felt in his hands, as if they were made specifically to be molded against his body, how sweet she’d smelled, and tasted. He knew her essence would haunt him for many years after he left, and that he’d wake up with the sound of her voice in his ears, and the phantom of her taste on his tongue, aching for her.
That’s pretty pathetic, the mage part of him sneered.
Maybe, but it was also part of his genetic make-up. Once the shifter half of him met a potential mate, resisting the intense attraction, was nothing short of torture. He’d already been through that once, and he had no desire to repeat the experience. The best cure for his affliction, was for him to get as far away from Angela, as physically possible, which meant getting this mission done and over with, so he could be on his way.
With that matter settled in his mind, he parked in the lot outside the Golden Gate Fields, and made their way into the track. The Fields were huge, spanning one hundred and forty acres, and Cole stood for a moment just inside the entrance after they’d paid admission, taking in the sprawling greenery and the enormity of the stadium. Though the seats were only half-filled, the buzz and excitement of the crowd still filled the air, infecting him with enthusiasm, as he watched the jockeys and their horses lining up at their gates.
“If you think this is amazing, you ought to try coming here during one of the more popular races,” Angela said quietly. He looked down at her, and his pulse picked up a little, as he caught the sparkle in her stunningly green eyes. “It’s so much more impressive when the rows are filled with screaming horse racing fans.”
Cole couldn’t help, but snort a little. “Sounds like I’d just end up with a case of bleeding ear drums.”
Angela smirked. “I didn’t realize you were so damn sensitive.” She brushed past him, as she stepped into the aisle, her eyes flat and all-business as she scanned the crowds. Cole laughed, as he followed her out there, and returned his attention to the same objective – finding the werewolf.
It didn’t end up taking too long to locate him – a few discreet questions led them to the far left of the stadium, where they found Marcus weaving his way discreetly between the seats, with a small black book, taking bets from spectators. He bore little resemblance to the fierce brawler who’d nearly ripped out the vampire’s throat last night, dressed in a white polo shirt, tucked into tan slacks, his black hair slicked back, and liberally coated with gel. He didn’t even notice, when Angela sidled up behind him, too busy chattering away.
“Okay, so you’re doing fifty for the chestnut, is that right?” He made a note down in his book, as he accepted the money from a woman in a red and white polka dotted dress and a wide-brimmed hat. “Good, good, now is the gentleman looking at the roan over there? Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Definitely a good choice – ”
“Excuse me.” Angela tapped him on the shoulder. “Can we have a word, Mr. Lopez?”
He turned around, and it was almost comical the way his million-watt smile evaporated, at the sight of Angela. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re doing here bothering me like this, but it’s not necessary,” he began, sidling away from her. “Dimitri and I both agreed not to press charges – ”
“Oh, so you’re on a first-name basis with the vampire who tried to rip your throat out last night?” There was no question as to the suspicion in Cole’s voice.
Marcus paled, and the two humans behind him broke out into a flurry of whispers, eyeing him nervously. “Jesus Christ, could you say that any louder?” he hissed, ushering them both forward. “You’re gonna ruin my business!”
“Yeah, I feel really bad about putting a wrench in your illegal venture,” Angela snarled, clamping a hand around his upper arm, and dragging him off into the corner, away from prying eyes.
“Please,” he begged, sounding a hell of a lot more like a naughty five-year-old than a hulking werewolf who could probably crush Angela’s skull, if he really wanted to. “Don’t bust my balls over this. This is how I pay my rent!”
Angela’s face reddened, and she slammed Marcus into the wall, knocking his head against the concrete. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to aid and abet someone in kidnapping a Protector!” she growled.
Marcus’s face paled. “A what?”
Angela bared her teeth. “My partner. She was taken last night by a pack of rebel shifters, while you and your vampire friend were distracting everyone.” She leaned in close. “If she is dead, or harmed in any way by the time I find her, I will come back here, rip your testicles off with my bare hands, and force-feed them to you.”
Cole winced, at the suggestion. Note to self – do not threaten her loved ones.
Marcus sputtered. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t know that I was involved with any kidnapping – we were just being paid to stir up a ruckus in the bar to try and drive away some of the Crazy Horse’s business.”
Cole narrowed his eyes. “And who exactly told you to do this?”
Marcus pressed his lips together. “Well, Dimitri’s the one who gave me all the details. He’s the one who got the job, and brought me in on it. I haven’t been doing so hot with the bookie business, so I needed some extra cash, and – ”
Cole waved his hand impatiently. “Yeah, yeah. We don’t need your sob story. So you’re telling me that your vampire friend Dimitri told you this little stunt was to damage the Crazy Horse’s reputation?”
The werewolf nodded.
Angela rolled her eyes. “Did your friend Dimitri also mention just how many fucking bar fights occur in the Crazy Horse on a monthly basis?” She shook her head. “That’s got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
Marcus’s face flushed. “Hey, I wasn’t about to ask questions. I was just there for the money.”
“Right,” Angela sneered. She looked like she wanted to say a hell of a lot more, but Cole interjected, trying to get things back on track.
“Did you ever meet, or speak, to the man who hired you and
Dimitri?”
Marcus shook his head. “His name is Bran, that’s all I know.” He swallowed hard, his eyes darting back and forth. “I can get you the address to Dimitri’s coterie, if that helps any. I’m really sorry about your partner. But I really don’t know anything else.” He sounded defeated.
Angela sighed, then pulled out a pad and paper from her jacket pocket. “If this turns out to be a dud, I’m coming back for you. And if I do, I’m taking you down to the station.”
Marcus nodded vigorously. “If you need anything, call me,” he said, scribbling his number down next to the address. “I’ll do what I can to help you out.”
“Well that was interesting,” Cole remarked, as they walked back out to the parking lot. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, fingering the sharp edges of the keys he kept nestled into the fabric. “I’m surprised you went so easy on him.”
Angela sighed, looking down at the ground, as she kicked a rock across the asphalt, trying not to lose it. “He’s harmless enough, and he gave us some decent info.” Her shoulders tightened. “I’m going to run this address in the system, make sure he isn’t sending us into a death trap.”
“Good idea.” They climbed into the car, and Cole sat back in his seat, and waited as she called the precinct and had someone run the address. As she chattered on the phone, he studied her, his thoughts going back to how she’d handled Marcus. Though she’d initially been furious at the werewolf, in the end she’d shown him leniency, even refraining from busting his illegal (though admittedly relatively harmless) operation, despite the fact that he was partially responsible for her partner’s capture. It seemed to be in her nature to forgive, which explained why she’d so readily accepted him into her home last night, and offered her body to him, despite knowing who and what he was.
It suddenly made him feel like a total ass for taking advantage of that, and worse, for distancing himself from her, after he’d been done with her.
Bearly Magic: (Bear Meets Girl: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Werebear Romance) Page 6
