Shift Out of Luck (Bear Bites Book 1) (3 page)

A
fter the last
tour group gets kitted out, I close up shop and head for the Lodge. Eli’s place serves as the meeting ground for most of the tour groups, even if they aren’t headed up by Eli and his crew. He allows it, figuring that doing a solid by the townsfolk will play in our favor should the secret of our otherness get out.

Eli thinks it’d be good to come out. Up here, people are mostly pragmatic and practical and would be less likely to turn us into circus animals than down in the cities. I don’t have an opinion either way. Living with humans doesn’t mean we are humans, though.

I find Eli in his office overlooking one of the many tributaries that make up the Boundary Waters—massive amounts of fresh water that separates the US and Canada.

“Good to see you, Cole,” Eli says absently as he paws through his mail. “What can I do for you?”

“You get my message about the Samson thing?” I ask. There’s a plate of cookies sitting on the edge of the desk, and I sweep up five before Eli can protest. “Jesus. These are fucking amazing,” I mumble around a mouthful of soft gooey heaven. “What’s in them?”

“Honey. Sugar. Butter? Fuck if I know.” He removes the plate from my reach. “You don’t have to worry about Samson’s group. I reviewed the trails he plans to take them on and they’re all baby courses. Even Samson should be able to make it through those hikes without any injuries. There are no night events either. Everyone is either checked in here at the Lodge or one of the cabins.”

“Actually I saw Samson go out today with someone,” chirps Dillon who comes in to steal a few cookies.

“A girl someone?” I ask suspiciously.

“Yeah.” He reaches for more, but Eli growls a low warning, which makes Dillon back off. “I think it’s the lady who runs that girly place in town. The one with pillows on the sign in front of the building.”

I jump out of the chair and glare at Eli. “You said no one was going out until tomorrow and definitely no overnight camping.”

He raises his hands as if to fend off a blow. “This wasn’t on his agenda.”

This time it’s me who does the growling. Eli and Dillon’s ears flatten against their heads in response. Dillon backs up against the door and lowers his head.

I spin on my heel. I don’t want to fight Eli or his cub. It’s Samson that I want and Samson that I’m going to have. “I have to go. What direction did he take?”

“I think he was going toward Bass Lake Trail.”

The Superior National Forest isn’t for amateurs. There are things that live in these dense forested regions that no human should come into contact with.

“If you’re thinking of shifting, there’s a house full of human guests the west side of the Lodge. You’ll probably want to avoid them,” Eli advises. “What will you do if you catch her?”

“
When
I catch her,” I correct him. “I’m going to take her home and make sure she understands the Superior National Forest isn’t safe for her without a guide from here.”

“And that’s all you plan?” he asks. It’s clear he’s been talking to Leo.

“Adelaide is a human,” I remind him, and exit the office. He follows me.

“Just because Eric Christiansen had an unfortunate run-in with his girlfriend doesn’t mean the same thing can happen with you. You’re older and you have a lot more control of your animal.”

“I won’t risk it with Adelaide.”

“Then what does it matter if she’s out with Pat Samson?”

“Because she’s
mine.
” I bare my teeth and take off, ignoring Eli’s hearty chuckle behind me.

It doesn’t take long to shift. The beast is just underneath the skin, and calling him forth takes no more effort than scratching an itch. I pick up Adelaide’s scent along with a putrid male one. I don’t make any effort to quiet my lumbering through the woods. I want Samson to know I’m coming, and if he shits his pants in fear…so much the better.

“
D
on’t be a fucking tease
.” I hear Samson order. “Why else would you want to come up here with me alone if it wasn’t to get laid?”

“Because of nature! And I didn’t want to be alone!” Adelaide exclaims.

The yelp and slap that follow get swallowed by the crashing of my eight-hundred-pound body through the underbrush.

“What the fuck is that?” Samson cries.

“Where are you going? Stop that! Come back here, you asshole!”

When I reach the small clearing, Adelaide is watching Samson’s back retreat down the slope.

“Oh my God!” she screams, and starts to run down the same way Samson took. I lunge past her, chasing after Samson. With a giant grizzly hot on his heels, Samson runs faster than Usain Bolt, and we leave Adelaide far behind us.

The acrid smell of urine wafts up and I veer off the path to avoid stepping in Samson’s piss. Finally, his weak human legs give out and he collapses near the edge of the woods. I crouch down into a lunging motion and that’s enough to spur Samson into gear again. He jumps up and runs to his Jeep. After a couple of false starts, he peels out, spitting up gravel behind him.

Satisfied he’s gone, I hunt for a clan cache—a hidden hold in the ground or around a tree stump that contains clothes and food for the bears and other creatures that shift. I find one halfway back to Adelaide, but the fit is off. The cubs must have stocked this one. The pants don’t zip all the way, and end around my ankles. I pull on the socks and forego the shoes entirely. The T-shirt strains at the seams. If I even stretch, I might rip the thing. I tie the plaid flannel around my waist and position it so my damn cock isn’t dangling in the wind.

I hurry back to where Adelaide was left behind and find her on the trail, holding a twig like a weapon. Tears have dried in streaks on her face, and there are big red welts forming from the mosquitoes. Damn Samson. He didn’t even prepare her.

Her fine breasts are going to be one big bug bite if she doesn’t get out of the woods soon.

“Cole, what are you doing here? Did you see the bear? Oh my God, it was so huge. I thought it was going to eat me,” she half-laughs, half-shudders.

“You have any bug spray?” I ask, ignoring the questions.

She nods. “I lacquered it on, but the bugs are still eating me up.”

“You got to cover up.” I pull the flannel from my waist and drape it over her chest. “Give me your bottle,” I demand.

“It’s in the pack.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder.

I grab her hand and march back to the clearing. I try to ignore the electricity that heats up the minute we make contact, and the fact that my pants are now being held up solely by my fully erect cock. There’s no chance in hell she doesn’t see it.

“What are you doing here?” she presses.

“I think that’s my question,” I shoot back. “I told you not to come out here with Samson.”

“Well, I guess you didn't give me a good enough reason to stay in town,” she replies pertly.

I wish she wasn’t so goddamned irresistible. Why couldn’t her skin be less soft or her hair less pretty? Why does she dress like she’s my wet dream come to fucking life? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of torment?

“There are dangers out here that Samson can’t protect you from.” When we reach her pack, I drop to one knee and pull out her bug repellant. I spray it liberally all over her legs.

“Ouch. That burns.” She flinches when the acid hits the red scratches the branches and underbrush made on her skin.

“Sorry. Fuck.” I lean forward and blow on the tiny wounds.

She freezes, and then her hands drop to my shoulders. I realize then just where I am—on my knees between her legs. If I raise my head, my nose would be right at pussy level. And even over the distinct smell of mosquito repellent, I can smell her.

She smells like fucking heaven.

“Am I in danger now?” she whispers hoarsely.

I force myself to keep my eyes on her legs—although that’s not much better. Her calves, knees, and thighs are just as delicious-looking as any part of her.

“No,” I manage to choke out.

“Then let’s stay here. Just you and I.” Her hands have found their way into my hair, and the gentle scrape of her nails against my scalp is doing things to me. Like rubbing away any resistance I have toward her. Not that I had much to begin with.

“Tonight?” I close my eyes and imagine sliding my hands up her juicy thighs until they meet at the juncture of her legs. I fantasize about tugging down her shorts until all she’s wearing is a pair of tiny panties that are soaked with her desire.

I’d nudge the sopping fabric aside with my nose, and then lay the flat of my tongue against her wet, hot pussy. I’d eat her until her gentle touch turned animalistic. I’d suck and lick and bite her until her nails scored my flesh and she was scaring the birds away with her screams.

“Yes, tonight. I went with Pat Samson because I've been here for three years and never once have I done anything outdoorsy. I thought…” she pauses.

“You thought what?” My voice sounds like my throat has been thoroughly scored with the roughest sandpapermade.

She tenses against me, and then sighs. “I thought maybe you'd see me as something more than just a pampered princess.”

“I do see you,” I say quietly. “You're all I see.”

“Then why?” she cries. “Why did you kiss me today and then run off?”

With a big heave of my own breath, I lean back on my haunches and dangle my hands between my legs. The hurt in her voice calls forth a more honest response than I was prepared to give. “Since you’ve come to town I haven’t looked at another woman.”

“Really?”

I nod miserably. Does that make me less of a male to her? Perhaps she believes a real male is like Samson, nailing every willing body that moves in front of him.

“That’s amazing, but why stay away? I…I want you, too.”

Her honey-filled words are like an aphrodisiac. I muffle a groan of need. “Because I’m too big for you. Look at these hands.”

I raise my big rough palms between us.

“Oh, trust me, I have.” Her cheeks turn rosy and I know it’s not due to the sun. This time my growl is too loud to hide, and it causes her to blush harder. She drops to her knees in front of me and places a small hand on my arm. It takes every ounce of control I have not to maul her then and there.

“Is it because you’re afraid of breaking things?” She strokes the forearm exposed by the too-short sleeves. “Look at this out here. It’s wide open, and if we knock the tent over, it makes for a good story. Nothing is getting destroyed out here.”

My cock is one solid pulsating mass. I could come from her just petting my damn arm.

“It’s not
things
I’m worried about destroying,” I say lowly. This time the heat is in my cheeks. If Leo could see me now, I’d never hear the end of it. Ruddy-faced like some wet-behind-the-ears cub! “It’s you.”

“
M
e
?” She laughs incredulously. “Cole, I’m not a delicate flower. I’m a… meaty girl. I’ve got hips and an ass”—she reaches around and pats that plush bit of flesh—“that are probably big enough to be seen by satellite.”

I force myself to look down at my hands instead of peering over her shoulder. Her generous ass is one of my favorite things to look at. I never leave my window when she’s walking around town.

“You’re beautiful, Adelaide.” I swipe an unsteady hand across the back of my mouth. “Too beautiful for a brute like me.”

“That seems like a really convenient excuse to let me down gently. Gosh, Adelaide, you’re just so pretty that I can’t stand to touch you.” Hurt mars her lovely face.

I don’t have a good answer for her because that’s exactly what I’m saying, only she doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m blowing her off with fake words.

She straightens up and bends over to pick up her pack, her shirt gaping open to reveal the deep shadow of her cleavage.

Plaid has never looked sexy before—but now? Every time I go to my closet, I’m going to be thinking of the pattern wrapping around Adelaide’s gorgeous body and I’ll get hard. I’d like to take her plaid top home and lay it on the pillow and imagine that she’s with me. It might be the closest I’ll ever come to having Adelaide in my bed.

I get to my feet too and try to shove my cock to the side so it isn’t obscenely pointing in her direction. She isn’t paying attention to me anyway.

“How far is it to the road?” She squints down the empty trail. The sun is setting, and with the canopy of trees, there isn’t much light around here.

“Probably a half an hour,” I admit. I could make the distance in ten minutes, but a human would take at least twice as long. “And you’re not going to be happy about it, but Samson took off.”

“You know that how?” She wheels back to me.

“I saw him.”

“You saw him?” she repeats. “You saw him drive off in his car, and showed up down this trail that is a half an hour away only minutes later?”

“I’m pretty fast,” I offer lamely.

Her eyes narrow. I could lead her out of the forest easily. My night vision is damn good, but I kind of like being out here, alone with Adelaide, even if she is pissed off at me.

“This your tent?” Samson had done a halfway decent job of setting up camp. There was a tarp underneath the tent and the stakes were driven in nice and deep.

I toss one flap of the opening aside, and my lip curls when I see the setup. A king-size air mattress covered with two sleeping bags. Maybe I’d misread the situation between her and Samson. Maybe she wanted to be out here alone with him.

“Yes. Pat only brought one. I thought we’d each have a tent or I’d share with one of the other girls, but no one else was out here tonight.” She joins me and peers into the tent. “That asshole!” she spits out when she sees the mattress. “No wonder he had me gathering firewood. He was busy setting this up.” She tsks in disgust.

“So you didn’t want this?” I ask with renewed hope that I have no business feeling.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I wanted to camp.” She sighs. “Dammit. This day has gone to shit. I’ve tried for three years to show you that I’m here for the taking, but you’ve ignored every signal until this morning. And then after you kiss me, you run off. We’re finally alone out here in this gorgeous place and you won’t touch me because I’m too attractive or some dumbshit reason, but you know what?”

I shake my head because I don’t know anything. I’m mesmerized by the fire in her eyes. What does she look like when she’s in the grip of passion? When she orgasms, do her eyes shoot flames? Fuck, to be burned by her would be the pinnacle of my pathetic life.

“I’m camping. You can do what you want, but tonight I’m going to sleep in this stupid tent, and tomorrow, when I wake up, I’m going to look for a place to open a spa that is far away from asinine men. And it’ll be a huge hit because there are probably millions of women just like me who are tired of you and your silly games.”

She steps inside the tent and whips the flap closed, the nylon material slapping me in the face. A thought emerges…if I could show her how much I want her, how true my feelings are for her, maybe she would understand and forgive me.

“Adelaide,” I growl. The word comes out more menacing than I intend. I clear my throat and try again. “Adelaide, may I come in?”

“For what?”

“To apologize.”

“You can apologize out there.”

“Not properly, I can’t.”
I need to be in front of you, Adelaide, on my knees so I can show you exactly how sorry I am.

“Fine,” she huffs. “Come in then. You have five minutes.”

I open the flap and take one step in before falling on my knees.

“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously.

“Showing you how beautiful I think you are. How much I want you. How I spend every night dreaming of you. How no day is complete until I’ve caught just one glimpse of you.”

I place my rough palms on the back of her legs and slide them down to the tops of her socks. With slow deliberate moves, I unlace her boots, giving her every chance to kick me out. She stands there, mute now. I look up and her face is filled with a cautious hope.

I pull one boot off and then the other. I set them in the corner of the tent. Her socks are next. Her cute toes curl into the tent floor, and I hear a deep inhale above me. Still she waits.

I lean down and kiss the tops of her feet and then the indent behind each ankle bone. A swift gasp escapes her. She’s sensitive here. My tongue darts out to lick the hollows. The next moment I feel her slender hands land on my shoulders. I brace for rejection, but when she doesn’t push me away, I reapply myself, kissing my way to her calves.

With each new patch of skin I encounter, her grip on my shoulders becomes stronger and more secure. She isn’t going to turn me away. As I reach the softest part of her legs, the delicate portion that lies just inches away from that honeyed juncture, I take a deep breath and let her arousal fill my lungs.

My trembling hands meet at her waist, and I take a chance to look up. Her blue eyes glow with anticipation. I lick my lips as if I can already taste her.

“You smell amazing,” I tell her.

“Like bug spray and sweat?” she jokes.

I lean forward and place my nose right between her legs. “Like goddamn heaven.”

She flushes adorably. The scent of her arousal is making me drunk with lust. I fumble with the button on her shorts, but manage to push the damn thing out of the buttonhole. She sucks in a breath when I slide down the zipper.

“Goddamn,” I choke out as the delicate lace of her light blue panties is revealed. “Goddamn.”

I let her shorts drop to the ground and reverently shape my hands around those luscious hips. “You’re so fucking beautiful. If I was controlling a satellite, its camera would definitely be pointed at your ass.”

She gurgles with laughter. “Is that right?” she replies flirtatiously.

I grin up at her. The anger and frustration that was there earlier has been replaced by desire and some kind of giddy pleasure. I aim to put an expression of pure ecstasy there by the time I’m done.

“Definitely.” I squeeze her ass cheeks. “This here is a work of art. Don’t ever talk bad about this body of yours. It’s fucking amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so. I don’t believe anyone’s ever said those words in reference to my ass before.”

“Then everyone is a bunch of stupid motherfuckers,” I mumble. “Baby, how much do you like these panties?”

“They’re my favorite pair, why?”

“Where’d you get them?”

“Online. I ordered them off—” She breaks off with a yelp as I slice the sides of the panties in half. My claws retract almost instantaneously.

“I’ll buy you a dozen new pairs,” I promise, and then jerk her forward. I push the palms of my hands against her ass cheeks to hold her steady as I lap my tongue to drink up the juices that coat her swollen pussy lips. Her body is ripe and ready.

The moment I make contact, my taste buds explode. I need more, more, more.

“Oh God,” she cries. Her knees buckle a second before she tells me, “I need to be horizontal for this.”

She tumbles backward onto the air mattress. Her thighs fall open, and despite the dark of the tent, my ursine night vision allows me to see her soft flesh glistening. I drag her toward me until her ass is just at the edge of the mattress.

“I have to have you now.” I kneel between her legs and spread her open. I force myself to take it slow and not devour her in one gulp. I need to make it good for her.

I blow on her heated skin and she shudders. Her fingers dig into the mattress, and her hips arch toward my mouth. I cover her clit with my lips, swirling my tongue around that stiff bud.

I slide one finger inside her tight, hot channel and smile when I hear her gasp and then clench her muscles around me. One finger is followed by a second and then, with a little push, a third finger fits in. She grinds against my mouth, her hips pump furiously against me. I draw out the sensations, curling my fingers against her tender, sensitive, inner flesh.

I love this. I fucking love
her.

I have for so long. She’s sassy, successful, and gorgeous. Her writhing beneath me, calling out my name in breathy sighs and pleas for more is every fantasy I’ve ever had come to life. I never thought these rough, dirty hands of mine would ever be allowed to touch something as fine as her.

“Cole, please, give me…I need…please,” she pants.

I drive my fingers into her at a relentless rhythm. Her body spasms beneath me, but I don’t let up. I want to push her over the edge and make her fly.

She twists and arches beneath me like a wild animal, nearly bucking me off with her own physical need for more contact, more pressure, more
feeling
. It’s as if she’s been on a sexual fast, and her body is trying to make up for all those lost weekends spent alone in front of her television, wishing for someone to take her. Fuck, that’s me.

I’ve been the one lost and alone. I’ve been pining for her. I’ve spent every spare moment wondering what she feels like, what she tastes like. Now that I’m here, though, I realize none of my weak fantasies could have ever lived up to the real thing.

She feels like magic—wet and hot and tight around my plunging fingers. She tastes like tart honey, sweet and tangy. I could do this for hours or days or weeks or however long she’d allow me to kneel between her thighs and fuck her with my tongue and fingers.

The beast inside of me roars with pleasure. It wants out. It wants to feed on her desire, but I beat it back. I can’t lose control now, even though my cock is burrowing a hole in the tent floor.

Beneath my driving fingers, beneath my voracious mouth, she rocks toward that orgasmic high. Her hands fist in my hair and her thighs quiver as she teeters on the edge.

“Come, baby. Come for me,” I urge. “Right now.”

I slap my fingers across her clit and the reaction is immediate. Her cunt clamps down on my fingers and her back bows off the mattress. Her come floods my hand, and I lean forward to lap it all up. I could live off just the honey of her body.

I want to carry her away and into some dark cave in the forest. I’d forage for berries and fish, and feed her only the food that I found. I’d clothe her in the leaves and kelp of the water, and lay her down on a soft bed of foliage where I’d take her like this with my fingers and tongue again and again until she forgot that there was a world beyond that which I could provide for her.

I can’t give her up, but as the blood pounds like thunder in my groin, I know I can’t have her either.