Grayslake: More than Mated: Bear Up (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 5

  “You’re an alpha… like an alpha male?”

  The way she flicked her small pink tongue over her lower lip to wet it made him bite back a groan, but it was the sudden scent of her interest and arousal in the air that really tested his control. His bear roared at him, demanding to know why they weren’t claiming their mate when she was…Right. Freaking. There.

  “Oh, yeah… I’m all alpha, sweetheart.” Oh god, touch me again. Lower, that’s it… down the abs… His inner demon started up the monologue as Kacie’s hands began to wander. Before she slid down too far though, he caught her wrists. “And if you carry on like that, baby, you’re gonna find out exactly how much.”

  “Oh, really?” Her eyebrow winged up but she didn’t try and release her wrists from his grasp. Instead she flexed her hand, managing to reach far enough to stroke his skin with her fingertips. “Shouldn’t tease a gal with promises like that.”

  Holy. Shit. He’d just told her he was a werebear, and that… and she…

  Adjusting his position so she couldn’t touch him, he warned her again. “Kacie, stop it. I’m not playing games now. If you carry on I will pin you to this bed, and I won’t let you up until you’re mine in every sense of the word.”

  “Please.”

  The soft word and the look in her eyes pole-axed him. It couldn’t be this easy, surely? He searched her eyes, checking for any tell-tale signs of mania or other indicators of hysteria. Her lips curved in a fond smile, and instantly he felt like he was missing something.

  “Dean, I’ve known there’s something odd about this town for years. The way half of you disappear around the full moon or rush off en-masse randomly? It’s kind of a dead giveaway. And…” The smile became a full-blown grin. “At least you’re not aliens. That would have been just weird. Bears?” She shrugged. “There have always been bears around here. At least now I know that not all of them are sizing me up for a quick snack.”

  He yanked her closer, tumbling her into his lap. “Oh, I plan on eating you alright, sweetheart, but it won’t be a snack…more an all you can eat buffet and I won’t stop until you’re hoarse from screaming my name.”

  With that, he slid a hand into her hair, and, confident of his reception, bent his head to claim her lips.

  She opened for him immediately, granting him access to the soft, warm secrets of her mouth. He groaned as he pushed in, finding her tongue with his. She was soft, sweet and oh-so-addictive. And she was all his… Finally his.

  The groan became a growl as he lifted her, settling her down so she straddled his lap. She wore one of his t-shirts, the fabric sliding up her curvy thighs as she lowered herself. He swallowed her little gasp as she felt his cock for the first time—hard and heavy where it pressed into the groove of her pussy lips. He couldn’t resist a small rock of his hips. The movement, the friction, made them both gasp.

  He did it again, feeling damp heat through the thin layers that separated them. Layers he wanted to rip away so he could bury himself balls deep in her tight pussy. She would feel like heaven. He just knew she would.

  “Oh… that feels good,” she whispered as she rocked her hips in time with his. The feel of her moving against him almost unmanned him there and then. He’d not been so close to coming in his shorts in years. Not since he was a gangly teenager who’d yet to learn control.

  “Real good, and it’s about to feel a whole lot better,” he promised, dropping back to lie on his back on the bed and looking up at her. Color flushed her cheeks, her dark hair a messy cloud around her face, and her lips betrayed the fact she’d been thoroughly kissed. In short, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed… with him.

  And it looked good on her.

  He drank in the sight of her there, straddling his lap, and slid his hands up the sides of her thighs. One hand on his stomach for balance, her eyelids fluttered shut, a soft sound of pleasure escaping her lips.

  He reached the hem of the t-shirt and slid his hands under, the white fabric bunched on his wrists as he explored her skin beneath. Her breathing hitched, breasts moving under the thin fabric with each inhalation. She wasn’t wearing a bra, her tight nipples tempting him as they poked stiffly against the fabric.

  His fingertips found the edges of her panties and he groaned. The strap was the thinnest thing, barely there. Too narrow for anything but…

  “A thong. You’re determined to kill me, aren’t you?”

  He barely recognized his voice, the deep growl thick with lust and dirty thoughts.

  She opened her eyes and shrugged, a look of pure mischief flitting across her face. “Easy access… you just gotta slide them to the side.”

  Fuck. Me.

  As though her words were a command, he traced the line of her panties down and between her legs. She bit her lip as the broad, blunt edges of his fingers brushed against her satin-covered pussy lips. A tiny rock of her hips urged him on. Hand shaking, he dipped a finger beneath the fabric and swept it through her lower lips. Slick heat welcomed him, her soft moan a treasure he locked away tight in his memory for all time.

  “So wet,” he murmured, pushing the scrap of satin out of the way to stroke again. Easily he found her clit, smoothing the slickness of her arousal over and around the tiny bundle. She whimpered, her eyes closed as she rocked against his hand.

  He pleasured her, teasing her clit with hard strokes and then soft circles. Never enough for her to latch onto a rhythm, but each move designed to feed the fire inside her body. His own roared and demanded he shove his pajama pants down and fill her with his cock, but he held off. He wanted…no, he needed to do this. He needed her to come apart in his arms, screaming his name as he made her come.

  “Oh god, Dean. More… please, more.”

  She was so responsive he couldn’t help wanting to give her everything. Moving without warning, he flipped them over until she was on her back in the middle of the bed. Her squeak was a surprised one that rolled into a moan when he pushed her legs farther apart.

  “You wanted more. More you get,” he breathed against her inner thigh. Her whole body tensed as he kissed his way up toward her pussy. With gentle fingers he pulled her panties aside and lowered his head. He gave her a long lick from her slit right up to her clit.

  Her taste, musky and sweet and perfect, exploded on his tongue and he felt his control slipping. He’d been planning to stop at just making her come but once he’d tasted her… all bets were off now. When he was done eating her out and making her scream, he was going to turn her over, pull her ass up into the air and bury himself balls deep in her tight little pussy.

  “Oh… Ohhhh…”

  That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Sliding his hand up her thigh, he teased the entrance to her body with his fingers, easing the tip of one digit just into her channel and then pulling out again. She gasped, rocking against him in a silent plea for more.

  Rap-rap-rap.

  They both froze at the knock on the door. Dean didn’t move, swirling his tongue over her clit in a way that made her wriggle and whimper. Whoever it was could just fuck off. He had better things to do. Like screw the living daylights out of his little human mate.

  “Itan?” It was Bennett’s voice. “Sorry to bother you when you’re… busy, but we have a problem in the office.”

  Dean lifted his head. With a bear’s sense of smell, there was no way Bennett didn’t know what they were up to. “Can’t it wait?”

  “Sorry, Itan. It’s Anderson.”

  He didn’t need to say anymore. Dean sighed. The sheriff was a recurring pain in the ass, turning up in his office at least once a week to rant about something or other.

  “Okay, give me a minute. I’ll be right down.”

  “As you will, Itan.”

  As Bennett’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Dean gave Kacie’s clit one last little lick and then crawled up to brace himself over her. She looked so sexy, her eyes dark with need and her cheeks so flushed that he almost gave in to the temptation to drop his
pants and take her right then. But a quick, dirty fuck was not the way he wanted to take his fated for the first time.

  “I have to deal with this,” he whispered, by way of apology.

  “Bear stuff?” she whispered back, even though they were the only two in the room and there was no need for silence. It was nice. It felt conspiratorial.

  “Well,” she said with a sexy drawl at his nod. “You’d better go deal with it and then come back so we can finish what we started.”

  Chapter 5

  “What the fuck are you going to do about that skin?”

  Dean sighed as Anderson started yelling demands before his ass had even cleared the frame. One day he was going to put a deadbolt on the door to make all assholes like Anderson book appointments to see him.

  Reason for meeting: whine number seventy billion about how bears are superior and should rule the humans? Check. Round fucking file.

  A pleasant fantasy about dragging Anderson out into the pit and beating the ever-loving crap out of him simmering in the back of his head, Dean gave the man a hard look.

  As usual when dealing with his Itan, Anderson was in full sheriff costume. It was almost as though he thought the symbols of human law enforcement would make one iota of difference in bear territory.

  It didn’t. Instead it made Dean want to laugh and ask where the fancy dress party was. That probably wouldn’t help, so he didn’t. But he didn’t miss the fact that most of Anderson’s little clique wore uniforms where ever they could, be that their leader’s sheriff getup, various veterans’ uniforms, probably down to boy scout uniforms if they didn’t have anything better.

  It would make him chuckle if it wasn’t so pathetic. It was a blatantly transparent attempt to bolster their collective ego by making themselves look meaner and tougher than they really were.

  Hell, if he and Morgan wore their uniforms… But that would never happen. Sure, they had them. Somewhere. He was fairly sure they had a rack of medals apiece as well, but damned if he remembered what they were. Their unit hadn’t been the sort that wore fancy uniforms a lot, and bringing everyone in their unit home after each mission was worth more to them than a whole chest full of medals.

  “Which of the humans put a bug up your ass now?” His answer was a growl as he ran his hand through his hair and suppressed a sigh. He hated that term for humans. It was insulting and racist, two things he’d been brought up not to be. “And you’re the damn sheriff. Why come to me?”

  “Not the humans.” Anderson’s lip curled back into a sneer. He might have been sheriff for the town, but no one in the clan was under any misconception he’d sought the position to protect and serve, or to uphold human laws.

  The guy was a power junkie, pure and simple. When he couldn’t get that power in the clan, refused a position as enforcer by Dean’s father and then Dean himself when he’d become Itan, he’d gone out and gotten it another way.

  “I’m talking about that damn skin, Creed.” He spat the name, his voice dripping with hatred and contempt.

  Dean arched an eyebrow, his expression neutral as he faced down the angry sheriff. “Exactly what do you want me to do about him? And for what reason? As far as I’m aware, he’s broken no clan rules.”

  Anderson had been pacing Dean’s office, but he now whirled on his heel to face Dean. His skin was flushed scarlet with anger, a very unfortunate color that clashed with his ginger hair, and a tiny vein pulsed in his temple.

  “He cheated!” Spittle flew from the corner of his lips, the expression in his eyes almost maniacal. “There’s no way a half-skin like that could take on a full bear like Harrison and win. He cheated. There’s no other explanation for it!”

  “Really now?” Dean folded his arms over his broad chest, his feet shoulder-width apart as though he were back on the parade square. It was almost the at ease posture, but only an idiot would think Dean was relaxed. He was an alpha, an alpha of alphas. He could shift and have his jaws around Anderson’s throat before the other man could blink. “Cheated? In the pit, in front of us all?”

  “Yes! Finally!” Anderson threw his hands in the air. “You’re seeing sense now. There’s no way he could have won that bout.”

  Dean’s voice was low and dangerous. “You mean the bout where Harrison attacked him from behind after he’d been beaten, using poison on his claws?”

  Anderson wasn’t stupid. At least not stupid stupid. At Dean’s words he paused, his expression altering subtly. “That’s got nothing to do with it. That was after. Creed shouldn’t have won at all.”

  “And why is that, Elijah? Because you’d already decided that your man would win? But just to be on the safe side, you and Harrison decided to cook up a Plan B?”

  The sheriff’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. Dean didn’t expect it to. If the guy was sensible, he’d realize that he was a hairsbreadth from incriminating himself. Conspiracy to alter the course of a pit challenge would land him in the thing himself, facing off against Dean. He might have an overinflated sense of his own importance, but he wasn’t suicidal.

  “I suggest you go away and think about your view of reality,” Dean invited softly. “And come back when you’re ready to play with the grown-ups.”

  The growl rumbled up from the center of Anderson’s chest, his eyes suddenly dark. Tension shimmered through the air, fur poking over the top of the sheriff’s collar and on the backs of his hands.

  Dean took a step forward, his bear ready for some action. This asshole had pulled him out of Kacie’s arms and he’d happily channel all that frustration into teaching the guy a lesson.

  “Do it, Elijah,” he invited softly. “Make my day.”

  The silence stretched out between them, the potential for violence thickening the air. Dean curled his lip back, letting a growl trickle between his teeth. If Anderson wanted to end this here and now, he was more than happy to.

  But the sheriff flinched, looking away as he mumbled. “No offense meant, Itan.”

  Fucking little—

  A knock on the door behind dragged Dean’s attention away from the cowering bear in front of him, sudden fear rolling off him in waves.

  “Yes, what is it?” he snapped, turning to find Bennett framed in the doorway. One look set all his alarm bells ringing. The normally laid back man looked agitated, worried even, a hand shoving his hair back as he looked at Dean.

  “It’s the Watson girls, boss. Someone got in, killed the babysitter, and took them.”

  “WHAT?”

  Dean’s roar of rage reverberated through the house, shaking the walls. Kacie stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs and lifted her head, using the sound to work out where he was. After it had become obvious he wasn’t coming back, she’d dressed quickly and headed downstairs to find food.

  But at the sound of him bellowing, her hunger fled and she barreled through the house, no thought in her mind but to get to him. Something was wrong, very wrong. She felt it in her bones.

  What could be more wrong than being attacked by werebears in an alley? The little voice in the back of her head demanded. Or finding out half the damn town get furry every month?

  She ignored it, beating feet through the room where she’d awakened on the dining table, and zeroed in on voices filtering through a partially open door she hadn’t noticed before.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, pushing it open to reveal Dean, Sheriff Anderson and Bennett Allan, a young guy from town who worked in the car shop not far from her house.

  Surprise filled her. If they were here, in this room, it meant they were werebears and she’d never in a million years have picked the sheriff as one. He was the stereotype of the old boys’ network, so set in his ways that you could set your watch by him. They had set their watches by him when they were children… knowing exactly where he’d be on his patrol route at any particular time of day. Made it easy for them to get up to the tricks kids in a backwater town did without getting into trouble. But a bear? That blew her mind.


  “Two kids have been kidnapped.” Dean’s words robbed her of breath for a second.

  “Shit. For real? Who?”

  “Yeah. Two of Jeb Watson’s girls.” Dean turned to the two men in the room. “Anderson, you’ll need to run interference with the humans on this. We can’t let them know it’s bear business. Bennett, tell me everything you know.”

  Even as he rattled off orders with the air of someone accustomed to giving them, Dean had his cell in his hand, punching numbers. Holding a hand up to halt Bennett’s report for a second, he held it up to his ear as Anderson scuttled out of the room.

  “Braun, it’s me. We got problems. Someone killed the Watsons’ babysitter and lifted two of the kids… yeah, might be the rogues. Get teams out, search the town and outlying areas. I’m going to head down to the Watsons’ and check it out.”

  Kacie sagged against the doorframe feeling like the bottom had just dropped out of her stomach. “Someone got killed?”

  “Yeah. Angela Russell, the daughter of one of the Watsons’ neighbors,” Bennett answered her, his deep voice shaking as he paced the room. “She was a good kid, Itan, put up a fight. She didn’t deserve what they did to her.”

  Kacie was swept along with Dean and Bennett as they headed out to the car. Her eyes widened as, on the way, they passed through the rest of the building. Either Dean lived in a damn mansion, or there were a lot more people who lived here.

  She didn’t get the chance to ask. Dean started one call as soon as he’d finished the last, his cell glued to his ear as he threw Bennett his keys. As the other man didn’t lift an eyebrow, she assumed that driving his… his what? his boss’… car was nothing new.

  Sliding into the back seat, she buckled up automatically—a fact she was glad about when Bennett hit the gas and the powerful vehicle sped off down the mountain road. He handled the big SUV like it was a race car, almost taking some corners on two wheels in complete disregard for both their personal safety and road law. All of them.