"Miranda-""Bwaka! Bwaka!" I chicken dance in front of him. Not the sexiest way to signal my arousal, but judging by the way his jeans tent and a red flush creeps up his neck, it's working. I flap my arms and bob my head. The mating call of the ecologist PhD. The female approaches the rugged male and shakes her plumage. He is stunned.
A glance down makes me realize his flannel shirt has flapped open again, and I am flashing Caleb over and over.
"Oops." I go to rebutton when a hand grips my wrist.
"Don't bother." He's breathing hard.
"What?" I start, and he twists my arm behind my back, bringing me flush against his body. His rock hard, very aroused body.
"You asked for it," he rasps a second before he drops his head and claims my mouth.
Caleb
I CAN'T STOP MYSELF. The curvy scientist has a long hard fuck coming and someone's got to give it to her. She needs to know that not all men are takers. That sex should feel good. That she's got a body built for pleasure.
The scent of her arousal intoxicates me more than my hooch intoxicated her. I slant my lips over her mouth, taking it. Owning it. My tongue sweeps between her lips, I taste the alcohol and chocolate on her breath.
Stop. Back off.
She's drunk.
You're taking advantage.
Reason attempts to seep in, but my bear's not having it. He claws to the surface and my teeth lengthen.
Christ, bear. Really? A mating bite? My bear is fucking insane.
I force myself to break the kiss and step back. "Doctor, you've had too much to drink to make good decisions."
She twists the fabric of my shirt in her fists and pulls my lips down to hers again. I give in for a moment, tasting her, devouring her.
And the teeth lengthen again.
Fuck. I have no control. I yank back. And then because I don't have the skills to verbally spar with her, I throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the guest room.
Gretchen's room. That quiets my bear.
I ease her down on the bed and back up to the doorway, to remove the urge to climb right on top of her. "Have a little nap, Doctor. Sleep it off. Come see me when you're sober if you still want a lesson in what a real man can do." I'm taunting her like a jackass, maybe half-hoping she'll be so turned off by my arrogance she'll keep her distance.
My cock strains at my jeans, not down with this plan of leaving her on the bed. Alone.
She stares up at me with green eyes. Innocence mingled with intelligence. Drunkenness with desire.
I take another step back. I need to get somewhere I can breathe. Somewhere I can stuff my bear back down.
"You're a patronizing ass."
I grin because I like when she gives it back to me. I like her resistance, her sass. "Not patronizing, just an ass. And you're tipsy. Sleep it off."
I shut the door firmly, like she's an errant child I sent to bed. Maybe I am patronizing. I give my cock a brutal squeeze through my jeans and grind my teeth.
This female will be the death of me.
I don't even know what I was thinking, offering to sex her up. I can't even blame that on the bear. It was all me.
But finding out she's never known pleasure-it just seemed like a goddamn travesty. The gentleman in me had to offer to right that wrong. I swear it was an act of community service, not self-interest.
Oh fuck that, who am I kidding? I've wanted to pound into that woman since the moment I first saw her drive up the mountain. There's just something about her. That fierce determination. Her bond with her dog. The way she looked at my bear like he was a fucking unicorn or something. And that was before I saw her naked. Now I can't stop thinking about those big, beautiful breasts. Her hourglass figure, the child-bearing hips made for me to hold onto as I give it to her hard.
But I'm not doing a relationship. I have no plan to ever replace Jen as my mate, especially not with a human. So I would've just kept my hands off her.
Then she had to go and tell me she hates sex. Now I'm not gonna be able to stop thinking about fixing that problem for her.
But even if she comes out sober and still wants to tango-which I doubt she will-I don't even think I'm capable of fucking her without losing control.
I've got to get the bear locked down. And if I can't, I'd better get the hell out of this cabin. Because if I make a mistake. If I lose control, the consequences will be too great. And then I'll have no choice but to turn myself into the Tucson pack and ask Garrett to put me down for good.
TEST SUBJECT 849
"TIME FOR YOUR TESTS," I crow to the female in the cage.
"No." She huddles against the back of the dog kennel in her filthy bra and panties-the same pair she's been wearing for months. I open the door, reach in and shoot her with a muscle relaxant so she can't fight me before I pull her out.
Not that she's much of a threat against my super-human strength, but you can never be too careful.
I strap her to a gurney and withdraw her blood, mixing it with the serum before I inject it back into her. I slap her cheeks, watching her pupils for changes as the serum takes effect.
Just a few more test subjects and we'll get the right formula. We'll unlock the DNA of all shifters.
The tests on healing abilities have been inconclusive. All of the cuts and bruises I've inflicted on the subjects heal at a normal, human rate.
I require more data. A larger sample size.