by Diana Seere
No longer running, he was huddled behind the splintered remains of a tree that seemed to have been broken in half. A low growl from his throat didn’t scare her away; she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. From the look of the tree, he was in far more risk of hurting himself.
He cried out, his voice more like a man’s, and then began to change. Hand trembling, she held the phone over her head to see it all.
The shift into his human form was swift but seemed painful. He shouted and gasped, arching his back, shaking his fists at the sky. Then he doubled over. Broad human shoulders strained outward, leading to bicep and elbow and forearm. Bunching quadriceps appeared. Knees, calves. Paws became arches and toes.
Fur and claw had faded into dream. Now there was only a man.
Him.
He was magnificent. She didn’t know how he did it, how he could survive such a change, but she didn’t care. Later, maybe, her scientific brain would obsess over it, but at that moment in the forest, all she wanted was to touch him. It had hurt him, going through that. It hurt to watch.
She climbed over the fallen tree and captured his face in her hands. The phone was in her pocket now, so she couldn’t see him. The touch of his warm skin was enough.
“Are you all right?” she asked again. Maybe this time he would answer.
He pulled his face out of her grasp. “What are you doing here?” He straightened so that he was looming over her. “You—you—you saw. Me.” His voice was shaking with anger.
“I did. I’m glad I did.”
“You’re not upset.” It sounded like an accusation.
She held up her trembling arms. “I wouldn’t say that. If you could see how I’m shaking—”
“I can see.” His voice was gravelly.
“You can?” She tried to move closer, but her foot caught on a branch.
“Easy,” he said, gripping her upper arms.
His touch, even through the thick parka, made her suck in a breath. All she wanted was to be close to him.
Without the parka. Without anything. Pulse tripping over itself, she reached out a hand and rested it on his chest, searching to see if his heart pounded as hard as her own. Then she began to trace the muscles of his chest, stroke the curls down the middle, over his navel…
“Hey,” he said, grabbing her hand. He held it in the air between them.
She smiled. “Hey,” she said seductively.
“I need to get dressed.” Dropping her hand, he twisted away. She heard the crunch of sticks and dried leaves. They grew fainter.
He was leaving her there.
“Hey!” she called out. “Where are you going?”
His voice shot through the dark. “Not so missish now, are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What kind of innocent virgin would see a bear change into a fully naked man without screaming and running away in terror?”
“What does being a virgin have to do with it?” She climbed over the fallen tree trunk and followed his voice into the woods. “Are you telling me everyone who has sex turns into an animal? Because that I can believe.”
“I’m telling you I know you’re not what you seem.”
“You’re one to talk!” she cried. “You were just lumbering around here on all fours, Yogi!”
His crunching footsteps stopped. His voice lowered another half octave. “I am Ursus arctos horribilis. Otherwise known—in this vulgar English language—as a grizzly bear. And while I am smarter than the average bear, don’t call me Yogi.”
“Better than being called a liar. And did you say ‘horrible’? Because that sounds about right.”
“I only said you’re not what you seem. But as you’ve pointed out, I’m the bear calling the virgin a—well—I concede your point and most humbly request you excuse me. I prefer the pleasure of my company and my company alone right now.”
She ran after him, incensed. “I never said I was a virgin.”
“Then you admit your scheme?”
“To what, sleep with you? Fine, yes. That’s my scheme. Now slow down so I can get what I came here for, you big idiot.”
He’d led them to a path, finally, and the ground underfoot was flat and clear. Dark, but at least there weren’t any torn-up trees strewn about. She watched him storm down the path, clearly ignoring her request, his glutes moving with a fluid motion, liquid grace and primal power all rolling and animated before her, his naked body a mountain she wished she could climb. As her eyes roved over his enormous, nude limbs, taking in the coordination, determination, and completely uninhibited way he moved, she felt her core begin to throb, her body aroused, her pussy wet and wanting, an ache that only he could satisfy.
I was already attracted to him before I knew he was a bear, she thought to herself. I’m not attracted to him because he’s a bear.
The birthmark on her neck stopped hurting abruptly, a warm, pleasant sensation replacing the annoying rawness that had nagged her for weeks.
“Derry!” she called out. “Please stop!”
He halted, shoulders so broad she wasn’t sure her arm span was wide enough to touch both tips of his shoulders, his chest moving with a breathlessness not caused by exertion. Long black hair rolled down his back like a raven’s feather, pieces of leaf caught in his wavy locks. His shoulder muscles moved, a constant kinetic symphony that she swore she could hear in her bones.
A long, measured inhale made his back rise up, his skin swell, the artistic perfection of coiled strength so beautiful to watch she forgot what she was going to say.
“I stopped,” he finally said in a low, clipped voice, that damned British accent so intimidating. “What do you want?”
“You.”
Chapter 13
She knew.
She’d seen him. Caught him. Viewed him in bear form.
And she still wanted him.
Derry resumed walking, needing the sanctuary of his cabin even more as her words became increasingly ridiculous. She might as well have just admitted that she was the charlatan Gillian had described. While Derry was all for using people in a bid to gain pleasure, a hedonistic abandon that left everyone satisfied, he turned stone cold at the idea that Jess, of all people, should have a piece of him.
Too late.
The man he’d once been was no more.
And now she’d seen the animal.
Why wasn’t she horrified? Eyes wide, mouth open, face flushed with terror, limbs numb and shaking? Screaming at him, telling him he was an abomination, a freak, something to be eradicated and destroyed, caged and contained at best?
He’d only heard the rumors about the many ways humans responded to seeing a shifter make the transition from one form to another. Discreet to the point of obsessiveness when it came to his changes, Derry had never exposed himself to that most intimate of moments when he put his DNA on display. Although he was young and fortunate enough to be born in a more enlightened era, he was still so careful.
Every shifter, from childhood, was told the stories about the old days. The witch hunts and the torches, the stabbings and hangings, how the townspeople in cities and rural villages would gather in hunting parties and kill, heedless of the shifter’s age, mammal, or state.
They killed shifters when they were in human form sometimes.
Who was the dangerous animal again?
Asher would have to be told about Jess’s knowledge. All of his brothers, and Sophia, of course. Any breach must be reported and dealt with. Perhaps Jess already knew, he mused, his heartbeat picking up speed. Gavin had assured him that Lilah would never reveal their secret, but the bonds of sisterhood were strong.
Just how strong?
Lilah. Her words came back to him, all the ways she’d tried to dissuade him from thinking Jess would ever truly be with him. Her truth.
The truth.
Jessica didn’t really want him. Not after what she’d just witnessed. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he chided himself. How had she crept up on him? He c
ould hear a chipmunk on bare ground. In bear form, his senses were sharper than usual, yet she’d gotten so close undetected.
How?
He reached the edge of his private courtyard, the stone-lined ground making it easier to walk barefoot. Steam rose up from the hot springs-fed pool each individual cottage possessed, and the lights embedded beneath the water gave off a supernatural glow.
Supernatural.
He snorted.
Her touch seared him. Halted him in his tracks, her palm laid slowly at the base of his shoulder blade. She must have been on tiptoes to reach even that high. The ends of his hair brushed against her hand, the strands catching. He felt the resistance.
Go.
He knew that walking away was the safest approach.
His toes gripped the stone beneath them, unwilling to move.
“Derry, I’ve never done this before.” A second hand joined the first, electrifying the nerves in his back, sending hot current through the base of his cock.
“I should hope not,” he said tightly, fighting his arousal, enraged at the idea of her chasing a naked man who wasn’t him to his private home in the woods.
“Don’t reject me. I couldn’t bear it.” Suddenly she giggled. “So to speak.”
She was hysterical. He couldn’t abandon her like this. Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t safe for her to be so far from the house in the dark. The route between his cabin and the main building was, as he’d insisted, hidden from the main path. When he came out to Montana to spend time at the family compound, he came to be alone. A literal and figurative hibernation. Having women stumble into his sanctuary was the last thing he’d wanted.
But now, after what she’d seen—he could hardly just leave her here. He’d have to get dressed and call for a servant to lead her back.
“You’ve caught me at a disadvantage, my dear. For all my skills, seducing women when I’m in this state isn’t one of them.”
“You’ve already accomplished the seducing part. Now you can reap the rewards.” Maneuvering around him, she lifted her shirt, grabbed his hand, and crushed it over her breast, loosely contained in a soft bra. “Don’t you want to?”
Trying to ignore the feel of her plump, silky flesh under his fingers, he gaped at her, speechless. She was so insecure. Clumsy. Ridiculous.
Her voice shriveled to a peep. “Please?”
Sincere.
His blood heated. And the depths of his soul sang out in triumph, in recognition.
Her.
She was no charlatan. This bright angel of his dreams really was a virgin, as impossible as it was. Meryl Streep wouldn’t have been able to fake this. She was smashing his hand to her other breast now, kneading it around like a baker with a ball of dough. An unlikely laugh began to build in his chest, one that he certainly couldn’t let her hear, for it would hurt her, this lonely girl, his love.
For the first time since their meeting in the elevator, he felt completely in control of his body. The overwhelming compulsion to shift into his animal form was gone. She’d seen him as a bear and accepted him. She’d opened herself to him, exposing her own vulnerabilities, and her honesty and humility and bravery humbled him.
I have to make this good for her. He cursed himself for the setting. Out here at his cabin, he didn’t have any of the usual props he enjoyed using during a seduction—vibrators, costumes, feathers, ticklers, crops, oils, clamps, blindfolds, chocolate syrup, chocolate truffles, chocolate ice cream, chocolate lube—honestly, chocolate was usually all any woman wanted…
How he would love to introduce her to such pleasures, her sweet body flushing under his ministrations, her ruby lips learning to touch him just the way he liked, her climax coming again and again, at his command, during hours, days, weeks of teasing and erotic play.
But he had none of his toys here. Only himself.
Slowly he looked down her body and dragged a thumb across her full, round, luscious breast.
He’d just have to make the best of it.
Jess’s face was hot with shame. She was making a fool of herself. After all these weeks, all these years, she’d finally decided to go for it—and the man who’d famously fucked his way across New England every weekend wasn’t interested. He was even naked, for God’s sake. And erect! The degree of not wanting her was so extreme, he wouldn’t even relieve himself on her. In her. With her.
“Jess,” he said apologetically.
Apologetically! She could hear the regret in his voice. The pity.
“Just kidding,” she said, trying to step back, but his hand was clamped over her breast, caught under her shirt, right where she’d shoved it. How unbearably awful. “I can find my way back.”
His hand slid around her waist and hauled her up against him, his hard cock digging into her belly. “You’re not going back.”
Now she was confused. Damn it. “Why not?”
“Do you want me or don’t you?” he asked.
“Is that a trick question?”
Arm tightening, he lifted her off the ground and regarded her eye to eye as her feet dangled in the air. “Maybe we should stop talking. It ruins things.” And then he bent his head and kissed her.
Ah.
The kiss was gentle, but when she snaked her arms around his neck and parted her lips, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and made her forget everything that had ever separated them.
He was right. They really should stop talking.
Hungry to get closer, she spread her legs and hooked them around his hips. His hands grabbed her ass and held her, stroked her, inflamed her.
The kiss stopped being gentle. They feasted, moaning into each other’s mouths, nipping and sucking. She rode him, squeezed him between her thighs, desperate to satisfy a million fantasies of all those miserable nights.
“Unzip my jeans,” she gasped.
His hand wiggled between their bodies, finding the button as easily as if it were his own. No doubt he’d had some experience with that maneuver. “Are you a good swimmer?” he asked.
“What?”
“I wouldn’t want you to drown.” His huge hands pushed under the waistband of her jeans and shoved them down her thighs. “You can be on top.”
Just as easily as the button removal, he popped off her shoes one by one and then flung the jeans, with panties, into the forest.
Distracted by his fingers now stroking her wet folds, she clung to him and nodded. Whatever. Whatever he wanted.
“Jess,” he whispered, carrying her across the courtyard. The bouncing footsteps only heightened her pleasure. His thumb was right below her clit, rubbing in rhythm to his steps.
Oh God. She might come right here.
“I do have a bed, but this is more fun.” He held her under the arms and set her gently on the ground near a bubbling, steaming pool. A mountain hot springs. “You should enjoy your first time.”
Lilah must’ve told him about her inexperience. She was too excited to be angry right now, but later, she and her sister would have a word. Before she found a way to get even.
He was already gloriously naked, but she still wore the parka of all things. As she reached up to remove it, he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Aren’t we getting in the water?” she asked.
Nodding, he stepped back and dragged his burning gaze over her. “I want to remember you like this.”
“Naked from the waist down, wearing a ski jacket?”
He didn’t smile. “So beautiful,” he said hoarsely.
Breathing fast, she wriggled out of the parka and lifted her shirt over her head. Then she pulled off the bra and let it all fall at her feet.
Now they were even. Both naked, both exposed.
Letting him look at her like this, even after the night in the cellar, even in the weak starlight, made her tremble. He’d seen so many women. No man had seen her, not like this.
Did it make it easier knowing he had his own secrets? His own vulnerabilities?
; Holding his gaze, she licked her finger, then dragged it across her own nipple, making it pucker more tightly.
Yes, it did make it easier. They both had to tear down sturdy, well-guarded walls.
She drew her finger into her mouth again. This time, she brought its wet tip over to his chest. When she began circle his nipple, he sucked in a breath and captured her wrist in his powerful grasp.
“I must beg you to be more careful,” he said tightly. “Too much improvisation on your part will make it impossible for me to, ah, extend your pleasure. As much as every strand of my unusual DNA is screaming for me to drive my cock into your lovely pussy while you gasp and beg for more, I mustn’t.”
“You mustn’t?” she teased, thrilled again by the accent. Smiling, she leaned forward and licked the bunching muscles of his abs like a kitten tasting her first saucer of cream.
He hauled her up into his arms and smashed his lips against hers. He plundered her mouth, drove his tongue deep inside, claiming every inch as his own.
But then he drew his head back and pinned her with that midnight-blue gaze. “Not the first time,” he said. “That needs to be gentle.”
“How about the second time?” She wasn’t teasing. She really wanted to know. Moving her hands around his waist, she explored the contours of his hips and ass, wild with the feel of their bare flesh making contact from chin to toe. His erection rose between them, hard and ready.
“The second time will be for me,” he said, devouring her mouth again for a moment before releasing her to the ground. He inhaled raggedly, rubbing his hands over his face, and then pivoted to face the pool.
My God, he had a beautiful backside. Each cheek of his ass demanded its own moment of worship. Or an hour. She reached out to feel the right one, but he flexed and stepped into the water, his muscled arms held to either side like a testosterone airplane.
Or a god. Could he be a god? What normal man could transform himself into a bear with blue eyes?
Her knees trembled with desire. Tonight was going to be like a pagan ritual, with the moon, stars, and mountains silently watching her give her hot, aching, hungry flesh over to the unknown. To Derry, a man as massive as the mystery of his nature.
