by Diana Seere
His.
She was his, now and forever.
And God help him, that was all he ever wanted. The choice had been made for him.
Jess sat up and kissed him, her tongue seeking the forbidden taste of her own juices. She began to kiss his neck, his shoulders, coming around to his back and tracing fine lines along his shoulder blades, making him shiver. She delighted in his body, as if it were a new playground to inhabit.
Let her tour the grounds.
As she touched him, leaving his shivers and groans in her wake, Derry understood that he’d thought himself a free man, one who could roam the buffet of life and sample from hundreds of dishes at whim, but in the end his gentle teasing of his brother for settling for Lilah—“Only one woman? That’s like eating only one food for the rest of your life. Better make it a good one”—could come back to bite him in the ass.
Which, at this very moment, was exactly what Jess was doing.
“That’s new,” he growled as he spun around and pinned her to the mussed bed, her wrists captive, his body looming, her legs opening and wrapping about his waist with a surprising agility.
“Again?” he asked, clearing his throat to remove the incredulity.
“More,” she whispered, angling just so. He sank into her, warm velvet embracing his pulsing erection, the world deepening yet again, layer by layer, into the divine.
She was sleek and silky, so wet and ready for him, primed by his mouth and the unbridled enthusiasm of repression unleashed. He thrust into her, gentle but deep, rooting himself in her. Over and over, stroke by stroke, the concert of flesh and fire crescendoed, their scents mingling to form a new identity, one he could find in a crowd of thousands.
One that would haunt him to his dying day, centuries from now.
Old and new fused as she let go, screaming his name, calling to him for more, to the point where he had no more to give, and it was only then that he felt it, too—the burning cry of the ancients, a mark like no other, a third voice between them that called out to him without words, without sound, without form.
It just was.
Just them.
He thrust one last time as her heels dug into his ass, her fingernails clawing him until he bled, her neck muscles tight as she thrashed and arched up against him, begging for him to go deeper, until he made love to her soul with a body whose limits he only found now, in this very moment, his seed spilling into her and filling her with the heat of a thousand dying suns. He was her moon, in orbit about her, and as he kissed her neck, the shudders and twitches of the last attempts to cling to pleasure wracking their conjoined bodies, he paused, puzzled.
As he pulled back a few inches, his eyes focusing, he saw it.
Or, rather, saw nothing.
For Jess’s birthmark on her neck was gone.
Jess kissed him good-bye at the door of his cabin for the tenth time. He was adorable in sweats and a T-shirt, an outfit he’d of course never worn to the club.
“I really need to go,” she said again, loving the way his morning whiskers felt against her cheek. And the way his neck felt under her fingers. And the way all the beautiful things he’d said felt in her heart. “They’ll ask me why I’m late.”
In less than an hour, she had to attend a private bridal luncheon with Lilah and—this was the scary part—Derry’s twin sister, Sophia.
“Tell them you were in bed,” Derry said, smiling against her cheekbone as his hand explored her ass.
“Mmm.” Her mind splintered again, paralyzed by the sensation of being touched with so much strength and passion after a lifetime of none at all. The things they’d done together…
And all the things they hadn’t and would as soon as they were alone again.
“What if they guess the truth?” he asked.
“Truth about what?” She slipped her hands under the elastic waistband of his sweatpants, remembering she’d done the same thing to herself just the night before, a lifetime ago.
He nibbled the tip of her nose and gently removed her hand from his cock. How was it he didn’t sit around playing with himself all day? Seriously, she would if it were hers. But it was hers now, wasn’t it? Grinning, she reached for him again.
But he caught her by the shoulders, stopping her at arm’s length. “Who’s ‘they’?” he asked. “I thought it was just your sister.”
“And yours,” she said with a sigh.
His grip tightened. “My sister?”
“Sophia. You’ve only got one, right?”
A scowl darkened his face. “But why?”
“The sisters of both families. Bridal thing, you know how it goes.”
“I do not know. Since when is this a requirement?”
“Since women love weddings and do things to draw it out in every way they can,” she said. “My mother suggested it, even though she won’t be here until tonight.”
“But surely,” he said, rubbing his jaw, “you can’t include my sister in those activities. She’s not—she’s—Sophia isn’t—”
“She is your sister, is she not?”
“Look at her,” he said. “Can there be any doubt?” Sophia’s build was almost as impressive as Derry’s, and her affection for sexual pleasures just as infamous.
“And the groom is your brother. We have to invite her.” She was glad to finally have the strength to open the door and step out of the range of his kisses. “And we want to. We’re going to be family.” And she would be sleeping with family. Not to mention sleeping with a member of the club where she worked, which could cost her a job.
She’d lost her mind. Losing her job along with her mind would be too much.
Maybe he was also thinking about complications, because he fell silent. They both stared at the heavy planks of his front step under their feet. With a start, she realized the gashes in the wood were claw marks.
On that bright, sunny morning, her memory of seeing his other form seemed dreamlike, insubstantial, unreal. But there were the claw marks to prove it. This man, so human and articulate, lived part of his life as a bear. A fucking bear. Oh, just because he did. Who knew why? She certainly didn’t. And hadn’t even asked him.
In her defense, she’d been busy.
If he was a bear, then his sister might be something too. God, it was crazy, but she’d seen it and, somehow, felt it. The explanations would have to come later. “Is Sophia…”
“Like me. In every way.”
“A bear?”
He held her gaze. “Yes. And she’ll—well, she won’t be supportive of us and our entertainments.”
“So I shouldn’t tell her?”
“Were you planning on making an announcement?” he asked dryly.
She smacked him in the chest, smiling, and turned away. Again. “I’m out of here, funny guy. I’ve got hair to wash. The minerals in that hot springs are giving me split ends, I can feel it.”
“Next time you should use the lovely conditioner Eva gave me,” he said. “She’d seemed to feel I should stop stealing it from the Platinum Club during my longer visits.”
With a pang, she realized what he meant: longer visits where he found a private room to have sex with a woman, or several, touching them the way he’d touched her, perhaps even saying some of the same beautiful, romantic things he’d said to her.
It shouldn’t have hurt—she’d known who he was, what he’d done and how often—but it did hurt, like a broken beer bottle stabbing her in the guts.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, ever perceptive, always watching.
She couldn’t bring up his sordid past and her own insecurities right now. “I’m nervous about meeting your sister, I suppose. And facing Lilah, knowing I probably have major sex-face.”
“It might be helpful to wear a perfume you aren’t presently wearing,” he said, studying his bare toe—so to speak—as he brushed it along the gash on the step.
“I’m not wearing any perfume right now,” she said. “Were you afraid she’d smell it on you? E
ven after you took a shower?”
Not meeting her eyes, he coughed into his fist, shrugged those enormous shoulders, and waved her along. “Don’t want to be late. Remember, just walk back the way you came. It’ll be easier in the daylight.”
Not that she’d had any trouble finding him in the dark. “Right.” Knowing she’d never leave if she touched him again or even lingered another moment, she spun around and jogged down the steps, past the courtyard and pool where he’d changed her forever, and all the way through the woods back to the main house.
Following last night’s steps exactly, she slipped into the rear door facing the lake, a sapphire oval reflecting the mountain peaks like a cheesy oil painting, and got to her room without having to talk to anyone. Keeping Derry’s comment about perfume in mind, she scrubbed her body extra vigorously, lathering up her hair, her underarms, her butt, her toes, everywhere, noting with amusement and alarm how many marks she bore on her skin of their lovemaking. Welts, swelling, scratches, abrasions, love bites, handprints on her hips. It was as if she’d been in battle, except nothing hurt in a bad way, not even the soreness between her legs.
And every brush of the washcloth reminded her of something he’d done to her. The twirly move with his tongue. That thing with his pinkie finger. With a groan, she leaned against the wall of the shower and turned off the water.
She wanted him again. Even more than before. Her legs were weak with wanting him. They had time to be together one more time before lunch, didn’t they? Just a quickie? He didn’t have to do that thing with his pinkie finger…
The sound of her phone ringing broke through her latest lust fever. Dripping on the Italian tile, she walked to the bedroom and picked up her phone, not surprised to see Lilah’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Jess said quickly, staving off her sister’s complaints. “I’ll be right there. Just got out of the shower. I overslept. I’m sorry, don’t hate me.”
“Stop apologizing,” Lilah said. “You’re not late. I just wanted to ask if what I’m wearing says slutty waitress or sexy bride or sophisticated events planner or desperate—”
“Wear whatever you want,” Jess said, patting the towel over her tender privates as she dried herself. “You always look beautiful.”
“Some of these people own their own countries. I heard one guy say he’d bought a planet, that if you give NASA enough money, they’ll send you a deed with a photo shot from a Hawaiian telescope that says, basically, congratulations, you’ve got a planet, Mr. Rich Dude—”
“Sounds like bullshit to me. But even so, what does this have to do with what you’re wearing?”
“I can’t look like a slutty waitress in front of these people!” Lilah cried.
“What if you are a slutty waitress?” Jess grinned, enjoying teasing her sister until she realized that she was the slutty waitress now.
And Lilah didn’t even know it.
Lilah’s voice turned pleading. “Can I come by and show you, and you’ll tell me if it’s OK?”
Jess looked down at herself and flinched. The hot water had made all the scratches and love bites even redder and more pronounced. She couldn’t let Lilah see her right now. “I’m not a good judge. Where’s Gavin? Can’t you ask him?”
“He’s useless. He’ll just say I’m beautiful no matter what I wear.”
“Which is exactly what I said.”
Lilah’s exhaled loudly. “Never mind. Forget it. Who cares what they think? I don’t. I don’t care.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jess said, but her sister had already hung up.
Now it occurred to Jess to worry about her own outfit, which was certainly not the clothing of a woman who owned any planets, or whose father had, or—
Did Derry own any planets? The man could turn into a bear. What else didn’t she know about him?
She pulled on her tight black skirt and turquoise sweater, one of four outfits she’d brought with her back when she’d been thinking about Derry in the abstract, imagining what he might do to her if she sauntered past him in a skirt that hugged her ass, or leaned into him wearing a sweater cut so low she’d had to buy a special bra.
She went over and studied herself in the mirror.
Slutty waitress.
Ah well, she’d own it. That’s what the members thought of her anyway, so she might as well play the part.
Fifteen minutes later, hair still damp after a quick blow-dry, Jess hurried down the hallway to the great room, where she was meeting Lilah and Sophia before they headed down to an enclosed porch over the boathouse. The cocktail party of the night before had dispersed, replaced by a few quiet people here and there sipping coffee and looking at their phones. Jess only vaguely noticed them, however, the majority of her attention fixated immediately on the Amazon—as in legendary female warrior, not free, two-day shipping—who stood, legs hip-width apart, hands on hips, gaping at Jess as she walked in.
Her stunned expression only intensified as Jess drew closer. Jess’s hope that Sophia had been listening to some shocking story, or staring at a bad play in a game on the TV behind her, faded into dust.
“I don’t believe it,” Sophia said, giving Jess a slow head-to-toe once-over that would’ve made a seasoned stripper blush. Tall and physically large, with a rolling curviness that made Jess seem like a toothpick, Sophia was intimidating. The golden-brown eyes that examined her were sharp and searching. Whatever she found was not appealing, either.
Jess could barely get the words out. “Don’t believe what?” There wasn’t any way Sophia could know about her and Derry so soon. Could she? Glancing down at herself, Jess searched for some sign of unbelievable-ness. Maybe the scarf and concealer hadn’t done nearly enough to cover the love bites and scratches. Why hadn’t she packed a turtleneck? Or a nun’s habit?
Just then Lilah popped up from behind a leather club chair, her blond hair pulled up into a messy updo, hourglass figure wrapped in a tight purple sweater and black skirt.
Too funny: they’d worn almost identical outfits. As different as they were from one another, every once in a blue moon they acted like the close sisters that they were.
“You’re both here!” Lilah exclaimed. “Why didn’t you guys say something? I was only playing Candy Crush.” Moving around the chair, she shoved her phone in her pocket and flung her arms around Jess. “Hi, sis,” she said, then moved on to Sophia. “New sis.” Her eyes were bright and smiling again.
For the first time, Jess thought she might understand why her sister was so happy. If Lilah believed this was going to last forever, then maybe she was justified. But how could it? What goes up must come down.
Shoving aside that unwelcome thought, Jess returned the hug and met Sophia’s disapproving stare over Lilah’s shoulder. “Is the boathouse far?”
Sophia crossed her arms over her chest. “Didn’t Derry show it to you? I’d figured he’d given you the full private tour,” she said, drawing out the words. “Or did you run out of time?”
Releasing Jess, Lilah turned to her future sister-in-law with a frown. “Is something wrong?”
Sophia paused, studying Lilah for a long moment before sliding her gaze over to Jess. “Let’s just say I have a nose for trouble.”
Oh God, Jess thought. Derry had anticipated this. And she’d used a gallon of scented products, too.
Well, if Sophia knew, she knew. Nothing to be done about it now but hold her head up high and keep her composure. She and Derry were both adults, and whatever they wanted to do, however long and hard and wet they wanted to do it, with or without pinkie fingers, was their own business. Their own sweaty, sticky, exhausting, delicious business.
Arousal swept over her again. She put a hand over her mouth to cover the sudden panting. Accelerated heart rate, flushed skin, tingling clitoris—all kicked in just from thinking about him. A single thought brought her near the edge of climax.
She couldn’t sit through a bridal luncheon feeling like this. She had to slip away for a moment and get
a grip on herself.
I’ll help you with the gripping.
Jess twirled on one heel, gratified to see Derry was only a few feet away, gulping from a coffee mug and stuffing a bagel into his mouth in two bites.
But if he was eating, how had she heard him?
Lilah’s voice spoke at her ear. “The boathouse isn’t far. We’ll go out the back door. It’s just east of the lake, above the pier.” Lilah tapped her on the arm. “Jess?”
Jess spun back to the two women. Both were staring: Lilah with dawning amusement, Sophia with open hostility.
It was crazy, but she couldn’t wait.
“I need to powder my nose. I’ll meet you there.” Without waiting for permission, or even acknowledgment, Jess strode away from her lunch companions, floating past Derry with her heart thundering in her ears. My room, she thought urgently.
Somehow, she knew he would hear her.
Chapter 15
Every late autumn, Derry’s ritual before hibernation included two steps: eat an extraordinary amount of food and wind down on the wild sex.
Somehow, he’d managed neither this year.
While he didn’t hibernate in the traditional sense that a full bear might go into winter seclusion, he found himself spending his winters in an indolent, sloth-like state, his libido diminished and his waistline enhanced. In childhood, his brothers Gavin, Edward, and Asher had teased him mercilessly, leaving his twin sister alone. While she, too, hibernated in this half-bear, half-human state, she’d always escaped their ridicule.
My room.
Jess’s voice rippled through his mind, and he swallowed his bagel in one final bite, swigging the coffee in spite of its temperature. Last night took a toll on him, and not just emotionally. He’d woken starving for food, and now he shoveled the nourishment in, drinking a second cup of hot, black coffee as fast as possible before following Jess.
Pure, unfiltered desire coursed through him, the scent of her overpowering, drawing him to her like a magnet. She was halfway to her room when he caught up to her, grabbed her by the waist as she yelped, and pulled her into a tiny changing room outside the pool.
