by T. S. Joyce
“Oh, I don’t eat raw meat, anyway.”
Jason snorted. “Neither do I, Ranger. You just snuck up on me before I started cooking.”
“Oh.” More blushing. More mortification, and all she wanted to do was flee. Not only because she was losing all semblance of professionalism with this man, but he was so intimidatingly attractive and was staring at her so directly, her tongue felt like it was tripping over itself every time she spoke. Spending an entire meal with him was an infinitely bad idea.
Jason canted his head. “You smell strange. Not scared, but something like that. Do I frighten you?”
“Bears frighten me.” Shoot again. Why had she blurted that out? Stupid mouth shut up.
The corner of his lips lifted slowly in a crooked grin, and she imagined her ovaries were exploding like fireworks.
“Good,” he said in a deep tenor. “You should be.” He gestured to a plastic chair near the grill and gave her his back.
Georgia squeezed her eyes tightly closed and wished she could think up a good enough excuse to bow out of dinner. Nothing came to mind, though, so she was trapped with the scary, sexy bear-man. She zipped up her dark brown puff jacket and sank to the edge of the chair as Jason turned on the grill.
Even from here, she could feel something powerful rolling off him. Some electric current that filled the space between them. Jason kept his face carefully turned away from her as he set the steaks on the grill.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
Jason shot her a suspicious glare and walked away. Okaaay. He was gone for a few minutes, but came back with a couple of beers and a plate of corn and asparagus on foil. He popped the top on one of the drinks and let the cap fall to the ground. He handed the bottle to her before doing the same to his.
“Thanks,” she said on a breath. The nerves were back, all fluttering around in her stomach like a hive of angry bees.
After taking a long sip from the cold glass bottle, she snuggled deeper into her jacket.
“You cold?” Jason asked gruffly without looking at her.
“Uh, a little. I think.”
“You think?”
“I have chills, but maybe it’s because…you’re…” Aw, friggin’ A, her mouth had a mind of its own.
“I’m what?”
Bone-deep terrifying. “Intimidating.” The last of the word wrenched up an octave, and her lion status plummeted to field mouse.
“Hmm,” he rumbled, the sound more a growl than a human word.
Another chill blasted across her skin despite her thick coat.
“Where are you from, Ranger?” Jason asked as he checked the underside of one of the steaks.
“All over. I grew up in Big Canoe, Georgia, though. I moved away from there when I was eighteen and spent a year in Montana, then a year in South Carolina, then Alaska, then another year in Texas, and oh my gosh, you can tell me to stop talking at any time. I’m a rambler, Mr. Trager.”
He didn’t answer. Maybe he wasn’t even listening. He just kept sipping his beer and checking the food as if she wasn’t even there. Okay then.
“It’s just I don’t go on a lot of social calls, and I’m new in town, and I’ve never met a bear shifter. I’m camped out at a ranger station Mr. Daye set up, but I don’t know anyone yet, and I was hoping to make a good impression on you and your clan. Your crew! Sorry.”
“Damon Daye hired you?” Ah, so he was listening.
“Yes. Some animals were shot illegally on his property, so he put out an ad. It took me two weeks of phone interviews to land this job.”
Jason slid her a thoughtful look and nodded his head. “Congrats.” He leaned over and clinked his bottle against hers.
She smiled and ducked her chin so he wouldn’t see the heat in her cheeks. Then she took another swallow. “Thanks.” She bobbed her head back and forth and admitted, “You’re the first person to congratulate me.”
“So your name is Georgia and you’re from Georgia. Who made that decision?”
“My dad.” Before he went to prison. He gave her a name and then busted on out of her life because he couldn’t seem to stop robbing liquor stores like a super-winner. “He wasn’t the brightest apple of the bunch.”
“Mmm. Well, I like your name.”
“You do?” God, why did she sound like a teen with a crush? “I mean, you do. Because my name is awesome.” And she didn’t need the approval of some bear shifter—sexy or not.
Jason flipped the steaks, then shut the grill. He leaned on a sturdy table, one arm locked, the other gripping the neck of his beer. His leg was crossed over the other, and he looked like the epitome of confident male as he lifted his chin and studied her.
“You don’t smell like fear anymore, Ranger. Now you smell like arousal. You like what you see when you look at me?”
Her eyes bugged out of her head, and her heart was pounding so hard it was threatening to eject itself from her chest cavity. “I’m sorry?”
“Do you. Like what you see. When you look at me?” He said it slow in a deep timbre that warmed her middle.
Unable to speak while trapped in his dark gaze like this, she nodded once.
Jason opened his mouth to respond, but froze with his ear to the gravel road that led through the trailer park and into the mountains. He frowned and settled his gaze back on her. “Don’t smell scared around Easton, okay?”
“Who’s Easton?”
“You’ll see, just…don’t be scared. You’ll set him off.”
Wait, she didn’t want to set off anyone. Jason was scary enough, and he was being perfectly cordial. Georgia stood and gripped her beer. “Should I leave?”
“Fuck, Ranger, now you smell terrified.”
“I can’t help it. I worked around grizzlies in Alaska, and it was scary, and when I took this job, I didn’t realize I’d be working closely with brown bears again, and you are practically electric and—”
Jason yanked her arm forward, and his lips crashed onto hers. Pulling her close, he angled his head and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Shocked to stillness, Georgia wondered if any of this was real. The chill had disappeared and was replaced by a staggering warmth that heated her blood. He was like a furnace, pressing a heatwave against her. Jason’s lips softened against hers, and the next stroke of his tongue was gentler. Squaring up to her, his hands slid up her neck and cupped her cheeks.
Melting. She was melting against him. Melting to nothing as she leaned heavily against him. Dang, it had been so long since she’d been kissed, and never in her life like this.
Jason sucked gently on her bottom lip and eased back. “There,” he murmured with a slow smile. “That’s better.”
He pulled away so fast she had to catch herself from falling forward. And then he was removing steaks from the grill as though he hadn’t just kissed her silly. Panting, she fell back into the plastic chair and stared at the set of headlights headed down the mountain toward the trailer park. They flickered through the trees like lightning bugs, growing closer by the second.
Her panic was nowhere to be found. All she could feel was the slightly drunken numbness that only came with several shots of whiskey. Holy moly, that man could kiss. But she’d meant to be professional, and kissing a stranger she was supposed to build a working acquaintance with was definitely not that. She should leave.
“I should go. Thank you for the beer and the…lips.” She fluttered her fingertips in front of her mouth and stumbled away, knocking the chair over as she tripped to escape.
“I thought you were supposed to meet the crew.”
“I am. Was. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Or never again.
Jason followed slowly. “Let me feed you,” he said in a strange, rumbling voice. His eyes were lightening to the color of the moon.
“No, no, I’ve lost my appetite. Stop right there!” She held out her hands. “You’re making me feel funny. Using your werebear magic seduction powers or something. This isn’t me. I don’t just
kiss strangers. I’m dating someone!” Okay, dating was an exaggeration. She’d accepted an invite to grab coffee with one of the locals named Bill Harris, but that seemed much healthier than whatever was happening between her and Jason. Too fast, too fiery hot, and right now she wanted to drop her panties and get laid in his love-shack trailer. Bad ideas all around.
“Seduction powers?” His smile turned flattered. “I’ve still got it then.”
“What? Was I some sort of an experiment? Yeah, I guess you still have the extreme hotness you’ve probably always possessed, so congratulations. You’ve realized your sexpot potential again.” At the expense of her sanity. Because clearly she’d lost her danged mind around this man.
Another flattered smile from him, and she screeched and spun for her Jeep. She wasn’t doing this—feeding Jason’s ego.
But when she reached for the door handle, he was there, leaning against her door as if he’d been there all along. Her heart lurched into her throat, and she let off a scream. Jason hunched into himself as if her shrill shriek had hurt him. He clamped his hand over her mouth, and now he’d really done it. She kicked his shin and bit his hand.
“Shit!” He yanked away from her as she pulled her gun from the holster on her hip.
“Don’t touch me again.”
“Easy there, Ranger,” Jason murmured, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. Put the gun down.”
“What’s going on here?” a man’s voice echoed through the clearing.
Georgia skimmed her gaze to the left where a group of people were gathering near them. She uncocked the gun and slid it back into its place at her hip, then shoved past Jason. Nodding at the crew, four men and two women, she said, “My name’s Georgia Ames, and I came to introduce myself as the new ranger around here. You all have a nice night now.”
Furious and embarrassed, she yanked open the door of her ride and slammed it closed behind her. Jason stood back, looking baffled as she turned the engine and backed away from him and the others. She pulled the Jeep around and sped off, glancing back only once into her rearview.
Jason Trager had his hands linked behind his head as he watched her drive away.
The stabbing pain in her chest told her he was even more dangerous than she’d imagined.
And why was she crying? He’d kissed her, not stabbed her. Sure, Jason was wielding a raw power she couldn’t even begin to understand, but he hadn’t been cruel. He’d just surprised her with that kiss, and his speed. But clamping his hand over her mouth like she was someone to be shushed had crossed a line. She was so mixed up.
As she rounded a bend, a woman stood in the middle of the road, illuminated by Georgia’s headlights. She gasped and slammed on the brake, but she was going too fast. The woman’s red hair was snarled and knotted, and her eyes hollow. She didn’t look afraid, though, as Georgia skidded sideways. She looked angry.
Georgia closed her eyes just as she catapulted into the woman, but there was no impact. There was no noise or vibration that told her she’d hit the woman. There was nothing at all.
The Jeep rocked to a stop, and a sob clawed its way up Georgia’s throat as she gripped the wheel and frantically scanned the road for the body. Besides a cloud of travel dust, the street was empty. Chest heaving, Georgia turned to check the other side of her Jeep where the woods met the gravel.
The woman was sitting in the front seat, staring at her with blazing silver eyes—eyes the same color as Jason’s.
Terror froze Georgia in place as the woman’s lip lifted in a feral snarl.
“Never come back here again,” the woman hissed out in a bone-chilling whisper. “He’s mine.” The last word cracked like lightning and echoed through the Jeep as the woman disappeared in a cloud of gray smoke.
Tears streamed down Georgia’s face as she fumbled her foot onto the gas, then she sped away from the woods of Grayland Mobile Park as fast as her ride would carry her.
Chapter Three
Georgia was beautiful, but that wasn’t what had Jason’s head spinning as she pulled away from the trailer park. When she was there, Tessa had disappeared. For the few minutes he had talked to the curvy, sexy park ranger, he hadn’t been afraid of Tessa showing up. He’d almost felt sane for a little while.
And now she was gone.
“Dude, why was she pointing a gun at you?” Matt asked. It was full dark now, and the outdoor light strands that illuminated the trailer park cast one side of his face in shadows.
“I like her,” Willa quipped with a big grin on her face.
Jason made a ticking sound behind his teeth. “You would,” he muttered.
“Why, Jason?” Creed asked. “What did you do to her?”
“I kissed her, okay? I kissed her, and it pissed her off.” At least he thought so. She’d seemed to be into their little make-out session, but apparently he’d been mistaken. More proof he didn’t know jack about women.
“Do you want me to bring her back here?” Easton asked, his green eyes blazing as he looked at the road Georgia had disappeared down.
“What? No. She doesn’t belong here, and I don’t want anything to do with her.” Lies, and if he could hear the false note in his voice, so could the others.
Frustrated at Willa’s snickering, he blew past them and called over his shoulder. “Someone take the vegetables off the grill. Dinner’s on.”
“Where are you going?” Gia, Creed’s pregnant mate, asked.
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
The Gray Backs hurled questions at him, but he wasn’t answering anything else right now. He needed a minute to wrap his head around what had just happened. He hadn’t connected on an emotional level with a woman since Tessa, so why in the balls had he made a move on the park ranger? Sure, he was trying to get her mind off her fear before she met Beaston, but if he was being honest, that kiss meant more than a distraction to him. Relief at the break she offered from Tessa’s constant hounding perhaps? Or was it more? Maybe it was the way her tan uniform had clung to those big, soft lookin’ tits of hers, or the way her pants hugged those thighs he wanted to grab and wrap around his waist. Fuck, he was hard as a rock right now.
He slammed his trailer door behind him and strode straight for the bathroom where he hit the tap and waited for the shower to heat up. He needed to get his head on straight again before he talked to anyone in his crew about what had just happened. Something inside of him had shifted, and for a minute there, even his bear had drawn up and stopped snarling.
Jason peeled off his clothes and stepped under the battering hot water. Leaning on his elbows, he allowed the stream to slide down his back as he rested his forehead against the shower wall and closed his eyes. She was there—Georgia Ames. With her full lips and freckles. With that wild hair he wanted to grip as he rammed into her from behind. His breath came in short pants as he pulled the first stroke of his dick. Geez, he was hard and throbbing already as if he was ready to come just thinking about her. He tightened his grip and imagined sliding into her. Legs locked around him, begging him to fuck her harder. His hips bucked as he jerked off faster. The water made his skin slick, and he closed his eyes tighter, imagined burying himself in her completely. He groaned as the pressure built. Faster, faster, and he lurched backward until his shoulder blades hit the wall. He gripped himself harder and yelled out as cum shot up on his stomach in warm streams. His breath shook as he milked every thrust until his hips bucked erratically. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes closed and leaned his head back against the cold, plastic shower wall. Usually, this was the part where the guilt over Tessa kicked in. Where masturbating to another woman would make him feel like a cheater because Tessa was still around, filling up his head and making him feel bad about every mistake he’d made when they’d been together.
This time, however, he didn’t feel anything but relief.
Jason showered and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel from the hook near the shower curtain, but startled to a stop as he looked
up to find Tessa standing across the bathroom, watching him.
“You thought about her, didn’t you?”
“Get out,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You said her name.”
Had he said Georgia? Sounded about right, even if he hadn’t meant to. He didn’t have to explain himself to a figment of his psychotic imagination though, so he ignored her observations and toweled off his hair.
Tessa’s eyes narrowed with fury as she whispered, “Go to hell.”
As her skin melted away and her scream rattled his skull in the dramatic way she always left him, Jason muttered, “I’m already there.”
****
Poachers were the worst part of this job.
Most hunters were respectful of hunting seasons and bought the proper licenses. They took the hunter safety courses and practiced on their aim, planned all year to take an animal humanely and fed their families on the meat. And hell, hunters gave more to land conservation than any other organized group. She came from a giving community of hunters and had been raised on grass-fed, hormone-free game meat. It was that or starve because red meat was hard to afford on Mom’s single, small salary when Georgia had lived in Big Canoe.
Poachers weren’t hunters, though. They were disrespectful thieves who took animals illegally, who traveled onto private land without licenses and killed what they wanted when they wanted. Poachers thought they were above the law.
They were also notoriously dangerous, weapon-carrying a-holes trying their best not to get caught. Regular, legal-eagle, respectful hunters would chat with her, sometimes for hours about what animals they’d seen and passed up. She got a lot of helpful information about the land management of an area just from having a good report with the locals during legal hunting seasons. Poachers were different, though. They ran, and when they were cornered, they lashed out like injured predators.
Georgia shook her head sadly at the expired deer that lay across the trail. The decomposition said it had died within the last couple of days. The scavengers hadn’t even found it yet. A bad shot to the back end was the cause of death. It hadn’t gone far, which proved that the animal had been poached on Damon Daye’s private land. There was no way it had traveled a mile west from the public land that surrounded Damon Daye’s mountains. Not with an injury like that.