by Sennah Tate
But that wasn’t in the cards for him. Never had been.
The SUV pulled to a stop in front of his house and he winced and groaned as he tried to get out of the car.
He looked back at the car — at Monica if he was being truthful — and he wanted to say something, but what? He still didn’t know why he’d saved her. He didn’t know why he’d thrown himself between her and Cherry and it bothered him. He shouldn’t have. He should have… what? Let her die?
His bear roared at that thought.
Nope, that was out of the question.
But he should’ve stayed out of it. Left her to—
“Wait,” she said.
Callan and Ashley both turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.
“Um…” she paused, “I just want to make sure he’s going to be all right.”
“I’ll be fine,” Reed grumbled, clutching at the wound on his chest that still seeped blood through his fingers.
“Well, I’d feel better if I saw it for myself.”
Ashley opened her mouth to speak up, but then seemed to think better of it.
“That’s really not necess—” Reed protested, but then his eyes landed on Monica and her unruly mane of fiery hair and the familiar stirring inside him made him pause.
“Uh, I guess if you really want to? You can get cleaned up, too.”
Ashley raised her eyebrows but only said. “I can come pick you up later, if you want?”
Monica nodded and scooted her way out of the vehicle and onto the pavement.
Callan pulled away and left them both standing on the sidewalk that led to Reed’s bachelor pad home.
This should be interesting.
Chapter 7
MONICA
As Callan pulled away, it hit Monica what she’d actually just done.
She turned to Reed, trepidation in her eyes, but he only shuffled toward his front door.
“So, are you going to tell me what this is really about? Because I don’t think you give two shits about my well-being.”
She bit her lip, wondering how to answer him. He was right – but he wasn’t. She knew she shouldn’t care about his well-being, but something inside her did. And more than that, she needed to know why he protected her. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it was stupid and foolish for her to dwell on it, but she had to know. As surely as she had to breathe.
“Are you going to tell me why you attacked another bear to protect me?”
He shoved the key into the lock and opened the door on squeaky hinges.
“Touché,” he said, leading her inside his sparsely-furnished ranch-style home.
She frowned, glad that he acknowledged her question, but angry that he hadn’t answered her.
“Well, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said.
He led her to the closest bathroom and sat on the edge of the bathtub with jerky painful movements.
She set to work right away turning the shower on and gathering cloths to clean him with.
“I’ll heal in no time,” he said with a wince as she wiped dried blood from around his wounds.
“I’m sure, but that’s not going to make you clean.”
“What can I say? I’m a dirty boy.”
Monica felt a rush of heat to her face at his implications. She remembered the way his body felt pressed against hers and longed for more of that close contact, no matter how forbidden.
Having such a close call… Being so close to… Well, it made her grateful for the present.
And for the warm body under her fingers, reminding her how very alive she still was.
She couldn’t stop thinking about their flirtation at work earlier — had that been today? It felt like ages ago. Or the way his deep rumbling voice brought her magic to life in an instant.
Simmer down.
Reed seemed to be able to sense her arousal and Monica clenched her jaw at the cocky grin that spread on his face. Even battered and bloodied he could make her wet and the bastard knew it.
But he wasn’t just any cocky bastard. He was a bear. And not just any bear; he was the bear that lit her on fire inside. Each gentle swipe of the washcloth uncovered more of his dark swirling tattoos and tightly corded muscles. Monica’s magic itched with the need to touch him without the cloth. Skin to skin.
She felt hot and flustered and knew without a doubt that this was a monumentally stupid idea.
Her eyes caught Reed’s, nearly amber with the warmth beneath the green-gold. Her breath hitched and she watched his gaze slide down to her lips.
He’s going to kiss you. Do something.
“So, do you always jump in to rescue helpless witches?” She said, dragging the wet rag over the hard lines of his body, trying to forget the simmering desire bubbling just under her skin.
“Do you always come home with strange bears?”
“Touché,” she said with a grin, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
After another ten minutes of silence, with only the washcloth between Reed’s heated flesh and her twitchy fingers, Monica decided it was a job well done.
“Well, under all that blood, it’s actually not too bad,” she said, eyeing the shallow red lines that covered his torso.
“I tried to tell you.”
“Well, witches are stubborn, I just wanted to make sure that the man that saved me was okay…”
Reed picked up a fresh cloth and wetted it before raking it down Monica’s arms, sending shivers through her. How could such a simple act be made into something so sensual? The rough terrycloth woke her skin and sent tremors of desire to her core. She felt the heat of his hand through the thin fabric and longed for skin-to-skin contact, though she’d never be able to ask for it while held spellbound by his hungry gaze.
“Your turn,” he said, standing to tower over her.
Instead of feeling intimidated, Monica loved that he was so much taller than her. She loved that he cast a shadow over her and made her feel small. She’d always been a big girl, despite her short stature. To have a big brawny man make her feel small made her womanhood quiver with excitement.
He washed away the blood of his fallen comrades and watched in rapturous wonder at each new inch of pale creamy skin revealed to him. Her dress was stiff and stuck to her body as he lifted the hem slowly, sliding his hands up her thighs, waiting for her protest.
Monica’s magic pinged restlessly and she wanted to tell him to hurry up. Get on with it. She felt like she was on fire and the only extinguisher was his touch, his lips on her skin… But that would only lead to so many complications. They shouldn’t. They couldn’t.
His hands slid higher and Monica bit back the protest she’d been trying to force out.
Her slinky dress went over her shoulders and puddled on the floor.
To hell with complications.
His mouth trailed hot kisses along her collarbone, up her neck and across her jawline until their foreheads met and they were eye-to-eye.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly with shuddering breaths.
“Reed…I…”
He grunted, refusing to hear any more reasons for why they couldn’t be. She didn’t know if she was dealing with the man or the beast anymore, but she knew she wanted him. All of him.
His lips fell on hers. Hard and demanding, rough and full of pent up passion. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and plundered her until her knees buckled beneath them.
Monica felt his arm snake around her waist to catch her and she melted into him. It was so wrong and she knew how much trouble she could get in, but good God this man was delicious.
Steam from the shower filled the bathroom and made everything feel more urgent. He tried to kiss her everywhere at once, moving quickly between her lips, her breasts and her neck. Her fingers dug into his scalp, reveling in the torrent of blissful sensations he sent throughout her body.
After shedding her bra, she was stripped bare before him. She wasn’t typically ashamed of her curves, per se, but she much preferred the warm
romantic glow of candlelight to the harsh fluorescents that cast ugly shadows over her body now. Then she saw Reed and the hungry look in his eyes. He didn’t see the too-big thighs or the extra jiggle in her arms. He looked past the dimples in her ass and the soft swell of her belly. The look in his eyes — so appreciative and uncriticizing — only made her more eager for him.
He pushed her back until her ass hit the countertop and he helped her up on it. She wrapped her legs around his chiseled waist and pulled him close.
She’d known from the minute she set eyes on him that she wanted him and had to have him.
Monica never expected that he would be this incredible, this irresistible. She never expected for him to be a bear either. But Reed spoke to something inside her. He made her magic more alive than ever. He soothed her restless powers and egged them on at the same time.
Spreading her legs wide, Reed got down on his knees before her and nibbled his way up her thighs. His calloused hands rubbed her legs, sliding up over her hips and back down her sides in a sensuous rhythm.
He had no idea how crazy he was making her, but her fingers clamped around the edges of the bathroom counter as she tried to rein in her magic.
Reed leaned forward and blew a soft breath over her heated sex and a sheen of sweat formed on her forehead.
“Please,” she whimpered, surprised to hear the sound come from her. Monica was not the begging type. Or the whimpering type. But this man… His touch… The way her magic just exploded around him. She craved him and he still hadn’t even touched her there.
He chuckled. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.” He spread her folds and licked her as if she were the treat he’d been thinking about for weeks on end.
The thrill of his tongue against her most sensitive place was electric. Monica moaned, her back arching, thrusting herself toward his mouth as her nails dug into his shoulders and the bathroom lights flickered.
Where her fingers met his shoulders, magic crackled, spurring them both to new heights. Monica looked between them and saw the thick bulge in Reed’s jeans. She groaned, imagining him thrusting inside of her. She’d dealt with her magic interacting with sex more times than she could count, but never like this. Never so raw and deep.
He did something to her magic. He made it more and somehow different. Was this the mate bond that Ashley had told her about?
She didn’t have time to think about it. His tongue delved into her depths, each curl of the dexterous muscle pulling out strangled cries of pleasure as she wrapped her legs around his face.
“You’re so fucking delicious,” he growled, his thumb circling her clit with frenzied movements.
She moaned and threw her head back in ecstasy, her legs trembling with the force of pleasure washing through her limbs.
His thumb rolled over her clit, over and over. His tongue plunged deep within her. He was merciless. Determined. And…
“Oh god,” she cried, her toes curling, lights flickering overhead.
His lips closed around her clit and sucked as he plunged two fingers into her welcoming depth.
“Fuck, oh god— Oh!” The entire world shattered into a billion pieces. Monica didn’t know if the flashing lights were real or a product of every pleasure point in her brain lighting up like the fourth of July.
She trembled and shook, her breaths coming ragged as his fingers slowed, coaxing her down from the highest of highs.
Reed rose from the ground, trailing kisses up her body until they were level again. He leaned in, planting another firm kiss on her lips and Monica could taste her own juices on his tongue. It only drove her wilder.
“Please, Reed,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist once more.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, slipping his hands under her ass, lifting her from the counter.
Just as he said it, his phone burst to life in his pocket.
Reed growled.
“Ignore it,” Monica pled, grinding her hips against him.
He kissed her again, his tongue plunging into her mouth as she worked at his jeans. Her hands slipped past his zipper and closed around his bulging shaft, and he sucked in a breath.
“Damn it, that feels good,” he groaned as his phone continued ringing. It paused briefly, the call finally going to voicemail, but then the tune started up again.
Monica sighed. “You’re going to answer it, aren’t you?”
Reed closed his eyes in a pained expression. “I’m a fucking idiot.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket and showed her the caller ID: Callan. “But yes, I have to answer it.”
Monica pouted and slipped off the counter, leaving his hands empty.
“Go ahead, then.”
“Yo, what’s the word?” Reed answered.
And then, Monica dropped to her knees.
Chapter 8
REED
Callan was talking fast, his voice sounded frantic and frazzled, not at all like himself, but then Monica was on her knees and the phone call faded into the background.
She leaned over his straining cock, her breath barely caressing his sensitive skin and Reed tensed in anticipation. Then Monica licked her lips and it took all of Reed’s willpower to not put his hand on the back of her head and push her down on him.
Callan was still saying something, but then Monica’s lips closed around the crown of Reed’s cock and he sucked in a breath, letting out a strangled groan he meant to hold in.
“Everything alright over there?” Callan asked, sounding worried.
Reed nodded, knowing the gesture couldn’t be seen through the phone. “Yeah,” he hissed as she took more of his length into her welcoming mouth, “it’s great,” he half-sighed, twining his fingers in Monica’s hair as she bobbed up and down his shaft.
He could feel the crackle of her magic driving his bear crazy in the best possible way, and when their eyes locked, Reed’s knees went a little weak.
What the hell was that about?
Callan started to ramble again and Reed realized he hadn’t heard a single word of his best friend’s litany.
“Wait, slow down, what’s going on now?”
Callan grunted in frustration. “The clan is out for your blood.”
Monica gave him a sly little smile and enveloped his entire cock in the warm wetness of her mouth.
Reed nearly jumped out of his skin it felt so damn incredible. “Jesus christ,” he muttered, feeling his balls tighten as his release grew closer.
“Are you fucking listening to me? You’re not safe at your place, the rest of the bears will be there any minute.”
It all hit Reed then, like he slammed into a wall. “Shit,” he exhaled. As much as he didn’t want to, as much as he’d be perfectly content defiling Monica’s gorgeous body in every way he could possibly think of, he had to pull her off of him.
Monica looked up at him, pouty, her lips plump and reddened, her face flushed with a question in her eyes.
He frowned and cupped the side of her face, bringing her up for a quick kiss. “We’ve got to go. We’re not safe here,” he told her.
She frowned, then leaned in. “We can go to my place?”
His blood nearly boiled at the seductive tone in her voice and Reed nodded, covering the phone. “We should get dressed…” then he remembered the frantic tone of Callan’s voice and added “quickly.”
Monica frowned at the blood-stained remnants of her dress and Reed dragged her into his bedroom, throwing gym shorts and a t-shirt her way while Callan continued on his end of the phone.
“There’s more to it,” Callan said, his voice tenser than Reed could ever remember it being. “They attempted a hit on every Clan leader tonight.”
Reed’s heart stopped for two reasons; one: a hit on every Clan leader in Palm Haven was a big move with big consequences, and two: Monica looked sexy as fuck wearing just his t-shirt as she bent over to pull up the shorts. He was stuck staring at her with this bewitched look, so tempted to ju
st rip all those clothes right off of her again.
Later.
“We gotta go, they could be here any time,” he said, finally coming to his senses and ushering her out the back door. By the time they were in Reed’s backyard, the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood came from the front of his house.
Callan seemed to sense they were moving because he stayed on the line, completely silent.
Reed could hear the bears crashing through his house and knew it was only a matter of time before they came out the back looking for them. He grabbed Monica by the wrist and yanked her along with him as he ran for his neighbor’s garage.
He opened the back door to the garage and pulled her through with him, flipping the light switch which illuminated only one bare flickering bulb.
Monica was looking at him like he’d just escaped an insane asylum, but he held a finger to his lips to shush her.
“Okay, continue,” he said into the phone, barely above a whisper.
“The only leader left standing is José and that only makes the case worse for his wolves.”
Reed blew out a breath. “Fuck, yeah it does.” Neither the tigers nor the bears would be willing to hear a theory about a rogue wolf pack in their midst when the pack they knew about still had their leader intact. It was damning evidence.
A perfect frame job.
Reed fished the spare keys for the wood-paneled hatchback from a hook by the door that led into the house and climbed into the car.
He gestured for Monica to get in, but she crossed her arms and shook her head.
Reed sighed and Callan was still talking about casualties and bits of information he’d picked up, but Reed was stuck in a stand-off with Monica. He muted the call, letting Callan talk to himself.
“Will you get in?”
“No,” she said.
“Can you trust me?”
“We are not stealing your neighbor’s car!”
Reed nearly growled, but then he got a good look at her all fired up and felt some other rush of emotion flood him. “I know we’re not. He’s not going to mind if I borrow it.”
