by Amy Star
“What’s what like?” Dylan tilted his head to the side, smiling slightly as if he understood exactly why she was uncomfortable asking the question.
“Being a bear. Being—I guess…a shape-shifter.” Nadine shrugged. “Your life, I guess.”
“Being a bear is hard to describe,” Dylan said slowly. “Just because I don’t really have anything else to compare it to. I’ve never not been a were-bear.” He took a deep breath and glanced away from her face, considering for a moment. “From what I can tell, the way we think about things, the way we experience things…it’s different. I mean—obviously.” Nadine nodded; it would only make sense that it would be a different spectrum, being a mixture of bear and human, than it would be to be a regular human without any other animal characteristics. “You would not believe how important smell is,” Dylan said, giving her a quick smile. There was something in his expression that Nadine both liked and disliked; something like the expression on Matthew’s face before when she had mentioned honey. “Animals put a lot more importance on smells. Pheromones, scent marks…they’re like an additional map, a second way of seeing things.”
“That makes sense,” Nadine said cautiously. “Do you…” She blushed. “What—what do I smell like, I guess is the question?”
Dylan smiled slowly, his gaze intent on her face. “You smell like honey,” he told her, his voice warm. The sound of it, the slight growl in the consonants, sent a crackle of something electric flowing through Nadine’s spine, tingling through her nerves. “Honey and lemon and lavender.”
“That…” She pressed her lips together, feeling her heart beat faster. “Bears…”
“Bears like honey,” Dylan said, his smile turning almost mocking—but still soft, still oddly appealing. “We love it, in fact. You smell—to both Matthew and me—like candy. Like something we could eat in one bite.”
Nadine wondered when her mouth had become so dry; she swallowed, breathing as deeply as her pounding heart would allow.
“Don’t worry,” Dylan said, blinking and glancing away from her face just long enough for Nadine to recover some kind of composure. “We don’t believe in taking any woman against her will—it’s part of that animal thing. Bears have very…” He licked his lips. “Very specific ways of courting a potential mate. Neither of us is going to try and take advantage of you.”
“Who wants beer to go with these steaks?”
Matthew’s voice seemed to cut through the tension in the room, and Nadine felt the tightness in her throat, the heat that had begun to form somewhere between her legs, beginning to dissipate.
“I’ll have a beer,” Dylan called out. “What about you?”
Nadine considered; she had taken half of a pain pill—but just then, she wanted to be a little less acutely aware of her own body. As long as she didn’t take another dose of medication for a while, one beer would surely be okay—wouldn’t it?
“I’ll take a beer,” she said quickly and quietly.
As Matthew came into the room, carrying plates of steak and baked potatoes, Nadine wondered just how much stranger her life could possibly be.
CHAPTER SIX
Dylan stared up at the ceiling in his bedroom as flashes of nerve-tingling heat worked through him, driving out any ability to calm himself and go to sleep. He was almost painfully aware of the fact that Nadine was in the living room, only yards away from where he lay; he was even more aware of the fact that Matthew was across the house, in his own bedroom, possibly just as sleepless as he was. Dylan gritted his teeth, breathing in through his nose slowly until his lungs were full and then exhaling just as deliberately. You didn’t count on how fucking distracting it would be to have that smell in the house. Just everywhere. Painted on your couch, trailing along the rugs, everywhere but where you want it. Dylan shook his head side to side against his pillow, feeling the heat pooling between his hips.
Maybe an hour before, he, Nadine, and Matthew had had their argument. He and Matthew had wanted Nadine to pick a bedroom to sleep in; for both of them, Dylan knew, it was more than just a matter of courtesy. It was a question of which one of them would have a chance to attempt to seduce her first. Neither man would have thought of taking advantage of Nadine—part of growing up in the culture they’d belonged to until their exile included a strict belief in the right of the woman to decide who she wanted to have sex with—but proximity would make for plenty of opportunities to press a suit.
Dylan caught up his bottom lip between his teeth and worried at it, shuddering as he remembered the sight of Nadine fresh out of the shower. She’d managed to grab a few pairs of pajamas at her apartment, along with her other necessities, when they’d made that stop on their way back home from her job; while there was nothing inherently sexy about the camisole and loose pajama pants Nadine had chosen, something about the sight of her with her hair still damp, tumbled around her face, her nipples showing ever so slightly against the fabric of the camisole, the slice of skin showing just above her hip where the waistband of the pajamas clung, was enough to drive Dylan nearly out of his mind.
Nadine had insisted that she wasn’t going to sleep in either bed; she had told both men in no uncertain terms that she wanted to stay on the couch. Neither Dylan nor Matthew had been able to accept that as an option. Dylan had barely been able to keep the animal part of his consciousness in check as her pheromones shifted, painting the air around her with the tones of anger and—he was certain—arousal. She wanted them; Dylan knew it, and Matthew knew it. She was fighting the temptation to have anything to do with them other than the most basic interactions, but her pheromones couldn’t lie. Dylan smiled to himself wryly, ignoring the feeling like hot lead pooling at his hips, the ache of his already throbbing cock. She wants one of you. Maybe both of you. She just doesn’t want to want you.
Dylan couldn’t exactly blame her; thinking about the way they’d met, he suspected that distrust was a large part of why she was so hesitant to give into the hormones raging in her system—either that, or native caution against doing anything that might make things dangerous for her while she was in the care of the two men. Dylan kicked the blankets off of his legs and groaned, closing his eyes as he thought of the little taste of Nadine’s skin he’d had—the rush of that moment, when he’d cleaned the wound she’d gotten to her neck. Dylan had never thought of blood as particularly erotic—but the taste of Nadine’s essence had somehow managed to work its way into the recesses of his brain, making her pheromones even more potent.
“Fuck,” Dylan murmured, reaching down idly and brushing his fingers against the hot, hard bulge of his cock straining at the cotton pajama pants.
He took in a fast, deep breath, resisting the urge to stroke himself. He was so turned on just by the thought of Nadine, just by the awareness of her presence so close to him, that it was almost unbearable. He sat up in his bed, exhaling sharply, closing his eyes to get some control over the arousal that rushed through his system.
“This is going to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” he muttered to himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.
Dylan padded out of his room and down the short hall, stepping into the living room with his heart pounding in his chest. He listened for Nadine’s breathing and after a moment, smiled to himself, sniffing the air quietly to sample her pheromones. She was definitely not asleep.
“Nadine?” Dylan pitched his voice as quietly as possible, little more than a breath; if Matthew was awake, he might hear it—but Dylan was beyond caring.
“What?” In the darkness, Dylan saw Nadine sit up from her oddly elegant sprawl on the couch, her head turning as she tried to find him. He smiled to himself.
“The couch can’t be that comfortable; you weren’t even sleeping,” Dylan told her quietly. “Come sleep in my bed.”
“If it’s not that comfortable, why do you want to sleep on the couch?” Nadine’s voice was a little louder than Dylan’s, but still pitched at a whisper.
&nb
sp; “There’s room enough for both of us,” Dylan murmured in response. “I can smell your pheromones, Nadine.” He smiled more broadly to himself as the scent of Nadine’s arousal intensified. “I know you’re not exactly against the idea of getting laid.”
“I just don’t know if it’s smart,” Nadine whispered back sharply. “I don’t even know you or Matthew that well.”
“Why don’t you try kissing me, and see how you feel about it?” Dylan stepped quickly around the couch, dropping down only inches away from her, crouching so that his face was level with Nadine’s. “If you hate kissing me, I’ll sleep on the couch and you can pretend I never suggested anything at all. Hell—if you want to, you can switch between my bed and Matthew’s for as long as you have to stay with us and if you want to fuck Matt, I’ll never say anything against it.”
Dylan heard the sound of Nadine’s breath catching in her throat, saw the slight tremor that ran through her body at his proximity. Her arousal pheromones intensified, washing over him, almost bathing him in her scent.
“Okay,” Nadine said, her voice breathless.
Dylan closed the tiny distance between them, finding her mouth easily in the darkness. He kissed her lightly at first, barely brushing his lips against hers. His hands reached out as if with a mind of their own, closing on her waist, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her clothes. Dylan deepened the kiss gradually, swiping his tongue against Nadine’s lips once, twice, until she opened her mouth to let him in. He shuddered at the taste of her—an echo of the honey and lemon that made up her pheromones—and gripped her more tightly, lust surging through his veins that he could barely contain. Dylan nipped at Nadine’s bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment, just long enough to make her heart beat faster before he softened his approach, tasting and probing the corners of her mouth, letting his arms wrap around her trim waist to pull her closer to him, to press her body against his.
Dylan broke away from the kiss when he felt the heat rising in Nadine’s body, leaving her breathless and panting slightly.
“What do you think?” he murmured, his lips brushing against her cheek. “Am I sleeping on the couch tonight?”
“You are such an asshole,” Nadine murmured in his ear. “If you have some kind of animal intuition about my emotional state, you know good and damned well that I’m…”
“Incredibly turned on right now? Soaking wet? About to come the minute I touch you?”
Nadine swatted at his shoulder, and Dylan just made out the flush in her cheeks as she turned her head away.
“If I wasn’t so turned on, I would tell you to go back to your own bed and never talk to me again,” Nadine whispered, her voice sharp and tight with desire.
Dylan chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. He picked her up easily, balancing her weight as he rose from his crouch; Dylan smiled to himself, appreciating the solidity of Nadine’s body, the crush of her breasts against his chest, the flex of her muscles as she unconsciously wrapped her legs around his hips to steady herself against him.
“I can feel how wet you are,” Dylan murmured against her ear, almost breathing the words. He shifted her weight against him; his cock throbbed at the sensation of Nadine’s fluids soaking through the cloth that barely separated their bodies. “Fuck, Nadine…can you feel me?”
“How far away is your bed?”
Dylan chuckled softly, pushing the door wider open and carrying Nadine through it. He kicked the door shut as quietly as he could and tightened his hold on Nadine convulsively; he could see his bed, just a few feet away. He wanted nothing more than to throw the woman in his arms onto it, pounce on her, and rip the clothes off of her body. Dylan took a deep breath to suppress the desire and carefully carried her the rest of the way to his bed, reaching over to the wall to switch the light on. He laid Nadine down and covered her body with his own, kissing her hungrily.
Nadine squirmed and writhed underneath him, pushing her hips down against his, and Dylan growled at the heat of her pressed against his already-throbbing, aching cock. He pawed at her camisole, his lips leaving her mouth to trail along the column of her throat—careful to avoid the area where she’d been cut. He tugged the front of her camisole down, exposing her breasts, and Nadine gasped as Dylan first brought one, then the other, to his mouth, claiming each of her nipples in turn. He nuzzled against her hot skin, sucking and licking, each moan from Nadine’s throat sending more heat coursing through his veins. Dylan’s hands dropped down to Nadine’s hips, his fingers curling underneath the waistband of her pajama pants. Her skin felt hot, soft and silken to touch, and as Dylan kissed a path back up to Nadine’s mouth, his mind filled with speculation about what her already-wet pussy would feel like.
He tugged her pajama pants down and breathed in, catching the scent of her fluids, heady and sweet to his nose.
“Christ, Nadine,” Dylan murmured, catching her lips with his own for a quick, hungry kiss. “I could eat you whole.”
Nadine kicked and squirmed underneath him, twisting her body in the impulse to rid herself of the thin fabric, and Dylan pulled and tugged at the pajama pants until he had gotten them down to her ankles. He buried his face against the uninjured side of Nadine’s neck, reaching one hand up slowly between her thighs. Dylan shuddered as his fingers brushed up against the smooth skin of her labia, her hot fluids coating his skin in an instant as he slid his fingers up and down along the folds.
Nadine gasped, her whole body tensing, and her hips pushing down for better contact, and Dylan took a slow, steadying breath to force down the animal impulses dancing through his brain. He worked his fingers slowly up and down, pressing more and more firmly until he found her clitoris by touch. Dylan groaned against Nadine’s shoulder as he teased her pleasure center, stroking and rubbing, swirling his fingertips in tight circles around the cluster of nerves.
“Oh—oh, oh…oh, fuck…” Nadine’s breaths came sharp and shallow, her breasts moving against Dylan’s chest, her hips bucking and twisting.
Dylan growled low in his throat, rubbing himself against Nadine, nipping and nibbling at her neck, her shoulder, and her lips as he felt her becoming more and more turned on.
“I have to taste you,” Dylan murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. “You smell so delicious—so fucking good, Nadine.”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly, nodding her consent.
Dylan kissed her quickly on the lips and then slowly worked his way down her body, trailing his lips along the curve of her breasts, the bumps of her ribcage, the line of her abdomen. He nuzzled her hip, breathing in the scent of her arousal, almost shaking from the self-control it took to go slowly. He nipped sharply at the curve of Nadine’s hip, smiling to himself at her startled gasp of pleasure, and then slid down between her legs, spreading them wider, holding her thighs where he wanted them.
Dylan buried his face against Nadine’s slick folds, moaning against her soaking wet skin as his tongue darted out to taste her. Just as he’d thought, Nadine’s fluids tasted of honey and lemon, a sharper undercurrent flowing over his tongue as he nuzzled against her, sucking her silken skin between his lips. He teased her relentlessly, lapping at her inner labia, bringing the tip of his tongue up to just miss the bead of nerves above it and then delving deeper once more. Dylan held Nadine’s bucking, twisting hips down as he worshiped her with his mouth, listening to her moans, smiling against her skin as he tasted and felt her fluids flowing more freely onto his tongue. Dylan had forgotten all about his friend; all he cared about was hearing more of Nadine’s moans, more of the sharp gasps, feeling her body getting hotter, her muscles tightening in little convulsive spasms as she came closer and closer to orgasm.
Dylan brought the tip of his tongue up to Nadine’s pleasure center, giving the bead of nerves a quick swipe before focusing his efforts on it more steadily. He felt the tension growing stronger in his lower body, the heat building up between his hips as Nadine’s moans and cries of p
leasure became louder and sharper. Her hips bucked under his arms so much that Dylan struggled to keep her pinned down where he wanted her, and he could feel her slickness coating his chin, his lips, as he sucked and licked the tiny cluster of nerves that brought her so much pleasure.
He focused all of his attention on Nadine, worshiping her with lips and tongue as he felt her body moving underneath him, as he read the growing signs of her climax approaching. He knew the moment when she’d tumbled into orgasm—he felt the flex of muscles across her hips, the spasm that jolted through her, and heard the sharp gasp followed by the long, low moan leaving her lips. Dylan kept up his attentions as he rode through Nadine’s orgasm, flicking his tongue against her pleasure center and dipping down to lap up her sweet-sharp fluids hungrily as she shook and writhed underneath him and around him.
He slowed only when he felt the change in Nadine’s body; Dylan focused on her inner labia as her cries began to soften, as the tremors in her body became more and more erratic. As he felt the tension ebb out of her body, Dylan slowly pulled back, licking his lips clean of the last traces of her fluids, smiling to himself as he looked down at her body. Nadine’s head lie against his pillows, her dark hair scattered against the pale green and white, her cheeks still flushed with desire. Her eyes were closed, her face utterly relaxed, her expression showing the contented satisfaction that Dylan had wanted to see on her. She was still breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling, muscles along her abdomen, hips, and thighs occasionally twitching in the aftermath of her climax.
“Thank you,” Dylan murmured, pressing his lips in a sloppy kiss against the curve of her left hip.
“Hm?” Nadine opened her eyes, looking down at him with hazy, dreamy confusion. “You’re thanking me?”
Dylan chuckled, slithering up along her body to kiss her briefly on the lips.
“I told you—bears love honey,” he murmured against her lips.
