Bear This Heat (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Last of the Shapeshifters) (20 page)

S
asha leaned back against Dylan’s topless body, feeling the warmth of his skin burn into hers. She was cradled in between his legs that were stretched out around her, and his arms held her around her waist.

Before them, the scene was like that of a travel office’s poster in some metropolitan subway. A sky blazing blue, save for smudges and wisps of both thin and puffy clouds, and a sea with surf, white and frothy ridges on translucent green-blue waves, slapping the sand along the shore again and again and again.

“I’m so glad I did this,” Sasha said. Her voice was barely above a whisper, barely audible over the light breeze that carried on its arm the laughter of other tourists, and the screams and shrieks of children playing. “Because I really,
really
needed this.”

“So am I,” Dylan said. He held her tighter, for just a moment, before loosening his grip, and letting his fingers dance upon her hips. He walked with two fingers an imaginary tightrope along the lip of her sarong, and then pushed a finger underneath both that, and the lip of her panties beneath.

“Don’t,” she whispered, pulling his hand out. She turned in his arms, planted a quick kiss on his lips, and pointed a finger at him. “Not here. Try and be good, okay?”

“I can’t help myself,” he said, grinning at her.

“You’ve already told me that.” Sasha turned back again to look out at the sea. The beach stretched for nearly equal distances to her left and her right, and along the entire beach were other people, mostly tourists.

“Yeah, but I really mean it.”

“Stop being such a sap,” she said, squeezing his thigh right above his knee, and making him jolt. She saw her finger and thumb had left a pale pink imprint on the big glob of the teardrop-shaped muscle that connected to his kneecap.

“Hmm,” she said, and she pinched his skin again, and moved his leg outward so that she could get a glimpse at the inside surface of his right thigh. “You’ve got a scar here.”

She felt Dylan lean over her, and her head was momentarily pushed forward so that her chin was nearly touching her chest before he leaned back.

“Yeah,” he said. “I remember that one.”

“What happened?”

“Scratched it climbing over a fence.”

Sasha laughed. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“I thought it would be because of something more exciting.”

“Why?”

“Because… I guess it’s because you’re a shapeshifter. Now that I think about it, though, I don’t really know why that matters.”

“There is plenty of down-time in my life, Sasha. But living as long as I have… lots of opportunity for excitement, too. Not all of it good, like our run-in with Marcus.”

Sighing, Sasha looked up behind her at Dylan, and touched his face. His hand went to her armpit, and then he stroked the bit of flesh that joined her breast.

“You must have so many stories.”

“None as interesting as the one we’re writing now,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Groan!” She made a face.

“But seriously, most of my memories are ones I don’t cherish, which is sad, now that I think about it.”

“It is.”

“I wasted a lot of my youth. Drugs, drink… you’d be amazed how quickly time goes by when you’re not thinking straight all day, or when you’re asleep all day.”

“You had a lot of youth to waste.”

“I wonder what Marcus is up to?”

“Me, too.”

“Think he’s still in the hospital?”

“Gosh.” Sasha shook her head. “I wouldn’t know, to be honest. He was pretty messed up.”

“Thanks for, uh, saving my behind.”

Sasha grinned. “Yeah, you were about to get your butt kicked.”

“He was so
angry
,” Dylan said, and Sasha heard the waver of his voice as he dipped back into memory.

“You know what?” She sat up, twisted, and gave him another quick peck on the lips. But as she pulled away, he leaned forward, catching her lower lip in his, and he held her head against his for what felt like minutes. The kiss was different from most of the others they’d shared, more than just an explosion of passion.

“What?” he asked as their lips parted.

“Stop thinking about all that for now, and enjoy your time with me.”

“Deal.”

“Because we’ll be able to talk about that later when we find Leon.”

“If we find him.”

“Dylan…”

“I know, I know.”

She nodded, and lay back against his body. “Good.”

He didn’t speak for a while, but he held her tighter, his arms like thick and meaty vines around her waist, his fingers absently flicking at the elastic of her underwear.

“So you really going to try and become like me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re set on it?”

“Yes,” Sasha said, looking up at him again. His stubble was starting to get dangerously long. “You should shave tonight,” she said, running a finger against the hair on his neck. “This is no longer a bad boy shadow, but more of a can’t-be-fucked scabby shadow.”

“There are different kinds?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“I’ll shave tonight. It’s boring shaving every day, you know.”

“Welcome to reality.”

“Actually, I think my hair grows faster than normal people’s.”

She laughed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice fading. “I used to have to get haircuts way more often than the other boys in school did. I boarded at quite a prestigious all-boys school, actually, so we had someone in the school who was in charge of keeping us all groomed well.”

He laughed, and Sasha felt her body rock with his. “I can’t remember his name, but I can remember what he looks like. Nose like a hawk’s beak, a pencil-mustache, and always immaculately-dressed. He was a character. Every boy in the school had the same hair-cut.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Come on, it’s not like kids, especially boys, don’t
choose
to get the same haircuts, anyway.”

“Point taken.”

“So, yeah, I really think it does grow faster.”

A thought struck Sasha that made her laugh, even if it was bottom-of-the-barrel humor. “So how often do you have to trim your pubic hair?”

Dylan laughed again, and he wormed his finger inside her panties again. She pulled it out, tutting at him.

“Quite often,” he finally admitted.

“That’s pretty funny, actually. The life of a shapeshifter. Uncontrolled hair growth and faster clotting of blood. Not quite superhuman.”

She looked out at the sea, saw windsurfers riding the waves, and parasailers riding the wind, tugged by speedboats far off the coast.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I’ve been wondering why I never bothered to travel when I was younger. There are so many places I want to go and haven’t, and I’ve just stayed put, going through the same daily routine. I could have done some traveling, you know? But the idea of savings, of property, of all that stuff, it just anchored me.”

“I’d say that’s pretty normal.”

“Yeah,” Sasha agreed. “I guess so.”

“You getting a taste for traveling, then, small town girl?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. A holiday is nice, but I don’t think I’d ever want to be, like, a professional traveler, you know? Never stopping anywhere for long, never having a home to go back to.”

“I’m with you there.”

“But sure,” she said, and she pushed her head into his chest and shook it, feeling sand in her hair. “We can go on lots of exotic holidays. Expensive ones, too. I could do with a bit of pampering.”

“Oh no,” Dylan groaned.

“What?”

“You’re high maintenance, aren’t you?”

“Like hell I am!” Sasha said, and she balled a fist and hit the inside of his leg. “I’m the one who followed you out here on your little life quest.”

“Come on,” he said. “That’s unfair. You’ve got a horse in this race.”

“Fine,” she conceded. “But that is just an unlikely possibility.”

“Okay,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “When this is all over, we’ll go on a big holiday. All the most expensive locations. We’ll wine and dine as though we were famous. Anywhere you want to go! What do you think?”

“And who is going to pay for all of it?”

“I will,” Dylan said.

“You secretly a millionaire, or something?”

When Dylan didn’t respond, she sat up and turned to look at him. He had a glint in his eye, and his lips were curled into a kind of modest smile.

“Really?” she asked.

“I have some savings,” he said coyly. “I’ve been around a while, you know. Bought some stocks once upon a time that I promptly forgot about. Remembered about them not too long ago. Well, let’s just say that said investments turned out pretty good, and I’m not lacking for cash.”

“Lucky you,” Sasha said. “Then, fine, you can pay. I don’t earn squat on my income, anyway, despite the promotion. You know, being a D.I. is not all that much more money if you don’t put in heaps of overtime?”

“Seems like the expect you to do overtime, then.”

“Yeah,” she said. “So, it’s settled, then. You’re paying.”

Dylan rested his chin on her head. “It’s a deal. Come on. Let’s go back to the hotel room.”

“Do you want to swim again?” Sasha asked him. He had definitely taken well to the warm surf.

“Only if you come in with me this time.”

Sasha broke eye contact for a moment. “Dylan,” she began. “You know it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“I do.” He squeezed her tighter. “But it shouldn’t. Let’s go, then.”

“Let’s go,” Sasha echoed quietly.

It was hot, but not the kind of heat she was used to. Here it was sticky, humid, and though the beach and the sun and the surf was great, it was nearing the end of the day and she’d be grateful to take a shower.

Sasha held his arm as they walked past a row of beachside bars, the vibrant nightlife just starting to rev into gear. And when they got back to their hotel, perched on a low cliff and overlooking a tiny private cove, she relished the feel of the cool conditioned air caressing her body.

“I get the shower first,” she said as they unlocked their door, walking on the cold marble floor. But before she reached the bathroom she felt a large arm wrap around her, and a hot body press into her. Dylan’s hand was at the lip to her tank top, and he pulled it up over her head, before quickly going to her bra. She turned in his arms, grinning at him, and pulled his t-shirt over his head, and ran her hands down his chiseled chest and stomach. She could smell his musk, it drove her wild.

“God, I want you,” he said as she traced the dips and lines of his fit body. He bent down and kissed her, and his fingers were at her the knot to her sarong, untying it until it fell, a puddle of silk on the tiled floor. She stepped out of them, naked but for the panties she still had on, and his hands were roaming her body, loving her body.

She could feel his hardness straining against his bathing suit, and so undid the string and loosened them, pulling them over his manhood so that they fell to the floor, still slightly damp from his brief swim in the sea. She grasped onto him, loved how hard and ready he was for her. Just her.

He guided her wordlessly to the wall, where there he pulled down her panties. His hands were at the insides of her thighs, inching ever closer to her center. His lips were on her neck, his body pressed into her from behind.

And, with her arms up against the wall, she felt his hardness slide into her, and her body thrilled with pleasure. His fingers pulled at her nipples, massaged her breasts, and stimulated her pearl.

It was the perfect end to a perfect day. Sand, sea, and sex. The other s-word. He made her feel better than any man ever had. She reached her crisis three times before their afternoon lovemaking came to an end.

Trembling, shaking in in the aftermath, Sasha climbed into the shower with Dylan, and together they stood in the hot blast of water, and held each onto each other, as though for dear life.

*

Dylan looked at the beautiful figure of his lover, lounging languidly on the bed, naked and sexy as all hell. She was flicking through the channels of the television, idly scanning the airwaves.

“God, I could mount you again right now,” he growled.

She looked at him, seemed to consider it for a moment, before a sly smirk pulled at her lips.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Only because it’s you.” He could already feel his manhood throbbing to life, tenting the bath towel he had wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t you think we should sample the nightlife first?” she asked, putting a hand behind her head, the sight stirring in Dylan’s loins even greater longing. “It is, after all, our first proper night here.”

“Sounds good. But we’ve unfinished business when we get back.”

“Okay,” she said, smirking, and biting her lip. “When we get back.”

“You just can’t say no to me, can you?”

“Want to see?” she asked, eyes wide and smile broad. “Let’s see who can hold out longer.”

“It would be me,” he said, going to the wardrobe and pulling out a thin shirt and pair of jeans. “Want to go posh, or want to slum it tonight?”

“Hmm,” Sasha hummed, and she reached to the bedside table and pulled off it a flimsy guidebook. “Well, we could have a drink and some supper at any number of hotel bars,” she said. “Or even expensive restaurants that serve, ooh, get this, sirloin steak! Or other such exotic delicacies as, dun dun dun! Ceasar salad!”

“What are these strange foreign dishes you speak of, dear?”

“Or we could try something a little more local.”

“Let’s do that,” he said, pointing at her. He put the shirt back in the wardrobe and pulled out a t-shirt instead. “I’d prefer a casual night anyway, and something interesting and new to try.”

He watched as Sasha got dressed, devouring her body with his eyes. He was certain that it was a sight he’d never grow tired of.

The two caught a taxi to district known for its local cuisine, and when they picked a place they liked the look of, absolutely heaving with people and so evidently the most popular, they went inside.

“Wow,” Sasha said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. The large restaurant was packed, and there was not a spare table in sight. “Guess we’re bunking.”