Filthy Beast

by Liza Street

  Kyle was roaring his victory when another bear came out of nowhere and hit Kyle from the side.

  Lena gasped. “What the hell?”

  The bear latched onto Kyle’s shoulder, just missing his neck, and yanked back. Luckily for Kyle, the bear mostly tore fur, but there was blood, too.

  “That’s not fair,” Lena shouted. Sniffing the air, she tried to make sense of what she was smelling. That second bear was…Carter? Attacking Kyle out of nowhere?

  Mathers, the cruel bastard, just stood on the other side of the ring, laughing.

  “Fuck this,” Lena said, yanking off her shirt and pants. She wasn’t going to let Carter go after her friend. Shifting into her lion, she joined the fight.

  Carter ripped another chunk from Kyle’s hide. Growling, Kyle fought back, swiping his claws at Carter’s face. Carter dodged, just missing a claw to the eye. His counter came so fast, Kyle couldn’t have anticipated it—Carter slashed Kyle’s exposed belly.

  Blood spilled to the ground. Kyle roared in pain.

  She’d wasted too much time watching. Now was the moment to act. With a yowl, she leaped in between them and raked her claws over Carter’s chest. He roared and fell back. She doubted it was from pain; she’d barely grazed him. His eyes were wide with surprise, instead.

  A light surrounded Carter’s bear. Lena stepped back to let him shift. She remained ready to spring at him, standing between him and Kyle.

  “Okay, okay.” Carter stood naked in front of her, his hands up. “I’m sorry. I’m backing off now.”

  She growled again.

  “I told you, I’m done.” He backed up and found his jeans on the ground, then tugged them on.

  Lena refused to take her eyes off him. Not because he was beautiful, although he was. But she didn’t understand why he’d attacked Kyle to begin with.

  He started to say something, but then his eyes widened and he pointed behind her. “Look out—”

  She spun around in time to see that Mathers had shifted into his bear and was charging at Kyle. She roared and leaped to Kyle’s defense. Marcus was at her side, still in his human form. He dragged a limping Kyle toward the edge of the ring.

  Now Mathers faced Lena alone.

  Shit. How’d she get into this mess?

  Oh, that was right. Carter. He’d started this by coming after Kyle, hadn’t he?

  Her heart thundered in her chest, a drum of panic. She inhaled slowly, determined to transform that panic into focus.

  Mathers jumped at her, paw outstretched. Lena slid away, fast on cat-light feet. It had been too easy to dodge. He was toying with her. She knew this on an internal, intelligent level. But intelligence had no part in this fight. He was her adversary, and she would do whatever it took to win against him.

  Something hit the side of her head, rocking her to the ground. Her ears rang. She looked up, confused. Mathers hadn’t hit her—she might not be the best fighter ever, but she would’ve seen him coming.

  Barnum stood above her in his human form, fist raised to hit her again.

  She hissed and poised to strike him first, her back arched. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mathers circling around.

  “Lena! Lena, get out of there!” someone shouted. “I’ll take your spot.”

  Marcus. She vaguely recognized his voice through the haze of blood and rage.

  She and Barnum faced each other. She kept half her attention on Mathers. She’d get them both; she just needed an opening. Give up this fight? She didn’t think so.

  Marcus entered the ring, though, standing at her side in his wolf form once again. He charged Barnum first, so Lena spun around for Mathers.

  Arms wrapped around her body and she felt herself lifted away. Mathers bellowed after her, his roar carrying threats. Barnum spit curses. She didn’t understand why someone was carrying her off. Only an enemy would take her from her fight. Growling, she slashed with her claws.

  The man holding her swore, but he didn’t drop her. He called out, “Toss me her clothes,” and then kept walking.

  It was Carter.

  She scratched him again, pissed beyond reason.

  “Calm down, kitty cat,” he said.

  He held fast to her until the sounds of fighting were far behind them. She didn’t know how far they’d gone—she could measure distance better when she walked it herself. Being carried, well, this was unnatural. Her lion didn’t like it. She thought of scratching him again, but he was making soothing sounds against her neck, speaking right into her fur, and her heartbeat was slowing back to normal. The anger was fading away into a dull throb, no longer at the surface.

  They were approaching a cabin, the one she’d seen with the punching bag dangling from a tree nearby. Not even hesitating, he kicked open the front door and walked inside with Lena in his arms. He shoved the door closed and dropped Lena on the floor, tossing her clothes at her feet.

  “Shift and get dressed,” he said.

  She growled at him.

  “Or you can shift and not get dressed,” he said. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

  How about I scratch your eyes out instead? she thought.

  He laughed. He could probably read her intent in her eyes, and it didn’t scare him.

  Fuckhead.

  She looked away from him, searching for a window or some other way out of this place. The windows were too small. She couldn’t get through the door—her paws couldn’t turn a handle.

  “Look, I wanted to hang out with you tonight,” he said. “We could still do that. If you want.”

  What she wanted was to know why he’d attacked Kyle. She couldn’t ask him while in her lion form. Sighing inwardly, she shifted back into a woman.

  8

  He’d never met a more beautiful woman. Her body was long and lean, with the muscles of a cat shifter, strong and graceful. She pulled on her panties, jeans, and t-shirt. No bra—either it had gotten lost somewhere, or she hadn’t been wearing one. He didn’t stare at the outlines of her nipples, visible beneath her shirt. He didn’t need to stare, because after one glance at them, the image would be forever stamped into his memory.

  She was fucking breathtaking, but she stood in front of him without seeming aware of that fact.

  “Is that what every night is like here?” she said, anger still twisting her features.

  Carter shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “It’s fucked up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re fucked up,” she said.

  “Definitely.”

  She shoved him, her palm flat against his left pec. He rocked back and then forward again, tried to capture her hand under his, but she was already yanking it away.

  “Why’d you go after Kyle?” she asked. “What the hell? You could’ve killed him. I can’t believe you would do something like that.”

  It came rushing back to him, then—Kyle, her friend, had killed his brother. Should he tell her? He didn’t think she’d take the news well. She’d been through a lot in the past two days. Brand new to the Junkyard, still trying to find her place.

  She went on, “Not only did you go after Kyle, then you jumped in like you’re rescuing me or something. You had absolutely no right to do that. I was in my own fight.”

  Pasting a stupid grin on his face, he said, “You’re giving me quite a tongue-lashing.”

  “You deserve it, asshole.”

  “Harsh.” He hooked two fingers into her belt loop and dragged her closer. “How about you use that wicked tongue for something good and kiss me?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Anytime, kitty cat.”

  The look she gave him was pure revulsion, but he could scent her desire in the air. She might not like him right now, but she wanted him.

  He could work with that.

  “You think I’m the same as the other guys here?” he asked. “A violent fighter, ready to kick the shit out of anything that moves?”

  “I know you are. I saw you in the ring,�
�� she said, her blue eyes revealing some of the hurt she felt.

  “That wasn’t me, kitty cat. That was the beast inside, trying to protect you.” He left out the part where he’d gone in search of a fight with Kyle to begin with.

  “I don’t need protecting.”

  He laughed and held up his forearm. The scratches she’d left there while in her cougar form still stung even though they were already starting to heal. “I know that, now.”

  “Sorry I hurt you,” she said, looking down.

  “Sorry I dragged you away from your fight. Now come here.” He kept his fingers in her belt loop and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Her skin was so warm, he felt it through her shirt. “I want that kiss.”

  She was pliant in his arms, her limbs loose. Still, he stopped before touching his lips to hers.

  “You okay with this?” he asked.

  Her gaze was on his mouth, her blue eyes soft. “Yeah.”

  He slanted his mouth over hers. A shock of heat spread through him, starting at his lips and radiating beyond. Tightening his arms around Lena, he kissed her thoroughly. She made a sighing sound into his mouth. He moved his lips and she parted hers. Their breath mingled. She smelled and tasted like strawberry liqueur. Sweet. Potent. Intoxicating.

  She ran her hands over his chest. He groaned, wanting more contact with her.

  Tugging up her shirt, he said, “This comes off. I want all your clothes off.”

  Her arms went up and he pulled off her shirt. Her breasts weren’t large, but he’d never cared about the size of a woman’s tits. More important to him was how much pleasure she got from being touched. Was it here, with her nipples? Or did she gain more pleasure from a different erogenous zone? With Lena, he wanted to find every single one of her pleasure spots.

  He cupped one of her breasts and gently squeezed, felt her nipple grow stiffer. She gasped into his mouth and kissed him harder.

  When he’d invited her to spend time with him tonight, he hadn’t even dared hope to kiss her. Now their lips were tangling, and his bear wanted to roar with victory. Lena in his arms, Lena against his lips, Lena’s scent surrounding him.

  “I want you,” she said, sounding surprised.

  He laughed. “You sure about that? You sound uncertain.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I just…I didn’t see this coming.”

  “Believe me, kitty cat, I didn’t see it coming, either.”

  Her hand came down and she touched his cock through the front of his jeans. He inhaled sharply. Fuck, that felt good. He’d been half hard since she’d shifted into her human form, and now he was ready to go. He imagined bending her over the table, taking down her jeans, and plunging into her from behind while he held tight to her hips. He bet she was warm and tight.

  He kissed her again, running his tongue along her lips until she opened for him once more. Their tongues slid together in a twisting play of wet heat. He couldn’t get enough of her taste and scent. He wanted her essence coating him, slippery on his cock. He’d mark her as his when he came, filling her up…

  Then he realized one missing element to his plan. He stopped kissing her and groaned.

  “What is it?” she asked, pulling back slightly to look at him.

  “No condoms,” he said. Without any women around, contraception hadn’t really factored into anyone’s plans at the Junkyard. “So unless you have an IUD or something…”

  “I don’t,” she said, frowning.

  He definitely didn’t like the disappointed look on her face. He didn’t need to fuck her to make her happy, though. Fumbling with the buttons of her jeans, he got them open and slowly eased his hand inside. Her panties were soft and he stroked his fingers lightly over the fabric.

  “Carter,” she said against his ear.

  He nibbled and kissed her neck, delighted with the quiet gasps she made with every stroke of his fingers over her panties. His cock felt like it was about to explode. She still held onto it, but as an afterthought, it seemed, because she was so focused on the pleasure of his fingers.

  Wanting to do even more for her, he maneuvered his hand into her panties. Fingers on skin. Her folds were slick with arousal and he played in it, coating them both. His fingers, the rigid nub of her clit, the cleft of her folds. Easing a finger down farther, he gently pressed it inside her and watched her eyelids flutter shut. Her pussy rhythmically clenched his finger. He added another one.

  “Carter,” she said, her voice breathy.

  “Mmm?” He gently bit her neck while he stroked his fingers in and out.

  “Oh,” she gasped. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

  He smiled against her neck. “Not stopping, no way.”

  As if finally remembering she held his dick, she unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down, then began stroking him in earnest. Holy fuck, he was gonna blow in about two seconds with her soft hand gliding over him with just the right squeezing pressure.

  All the more reason for him to make sure she came. He wanted to give her the best orgasm of her life. It was their first time together, and for some reason it felt crucial to him that he make a great impression. Something about holding her, listening to her breathy sighs, stroking her tight walls, and inhaling her sweet aroma felt so incredibly right. He didn’t know what that meant, but he never wanted to stop.

  He could tell the exact moment that she reached her peak. She gasped once, a huge inhale. Then she squeezed his dick and stroked it arrhythmically while her pussy tightened on his fingers. Her hips bucked against him. She exhaled, gasping his name.

  Her orgasm was all he needed to reach his. He thrust into her hand and felt the pleasure burst out of him. Her neck was so soft, so tempting. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against it, wishing he could bite down and claim her right here, right now.

  He didn’t know a lot about her, but he knew he was already hers, and she should be his.

  She eased away from him, a dazed expression on her face. Those brilliant blue eyes of hers were half-closed.

  Reluctantly, he took his fingers away from her pussy.

  She had his come all over her hand. Finding a rag next to the little sink he’d set up in his cabin, she wiped away the evidence of his passion.

  “So, that happened,” she said.

  “Fuck yeah, it did.” If he was lucky, it would happen again. He could be hard in a few minutes. He made a mental note to talk to Grant about getting some condoms. He wanted to do everything with Lena—with his fingers, his mouth, and his cock.

  “Well,” she said, “it was a mistake.”

  “A what?”

  “A mistake.” Her voice was firm. Was she trying to convince Carter that it was a mistake, or herself?

  Shaking his head, he could barely hold in a growl as he demanded, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “This was adrenaline,” she said, bending to find her shirt on the floor. “Stress relief.”

  He frowned. It was magic. She hadn’t felt that? “You’re crazy, kitty cat.”

  “Not at all.” She faced him. Gone was the dazed, sex-drunk expression on her face. It had been replaced with a prim, determined look.

  Prim, his ass. He could still smell her pussy on his hand. His dick was already hardening again, eager to please her in more ways than one. She was brushing dust off of her t-shirt, but all he wanted to do was roll around on the ground with her, getting completely filthy.

  “It’s not going to happen again,” she said.

  He opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t in the habit of telling women they meant yes when they said no. So did she really mean this?

  She must mean it, because she was about to leave.

  She went on, gesturing between the two of them as she spoke. “You can’t attack my friend and then think that…that this is okay.”

  He leaned back, stunned. He’d forgotten about Kyle while he’d pleasured Lena. Pleasing her was like fighting—it erased everything else.

&nb
sp; “Can I walk you to your trailer?” he asked.

  “Nah, I’m good.” She straightened her jeans and walked out of his cabin, head high and shoulders back.

  The door banged shut behind her, muffling Carter’s curse.

  9

  Lena dodged one of Marcus’s blows and got behind a pine trunk. He wasn’t as fast as he could be. If he’d been in her old pride, Shaw would’ve eaten him alive.

  “You okay?” Marcus asked, his gray eyes squinched in concern.

  “Me? What about you?” she said. “I’m kicking your ass.”

  He laughed. “You just got this look on your face—pure horror.”

  She’d been thinking of Shaw. “Bad memories.”

  “Bad memories, yeah,” Marcus said. “We all have a few of those.”

  Kyle banged out of the camp trailer and started toward them. His blond hair was flat on one side, sticking up on the other, and his light blue eyes were clouded with fatigue.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” Lena said.

  “Morning.” He walked past her tree and along the gravel line that marked the boundary of the Junkyard.

  Light filtered through the trees, highlighting his slow progress over the pine needles carpeting the forest floor.

  “Where are you off to today?” Marcus called after him.

  Kyle shrugged and didn’t turn around. “Maybe some fishing. I don’t know.”

  Marcus and Lena exchanged a look. Kyle’s mood had been somber the past couple of days. He was barely around, and when he was, he didn’t talk much.

  “Do you want to spar with us?” Lena asked.

  “Nah. Thanks, though.” And he walked away.

  Squaring off with Lena again, Marcus said, “I don’t get it.”

  Lena held her arms up, ready to block his blows in case she couldn’t dodge them. “I get it. We’re trapped in a hundred acres with not only literal garbage, but a bunch of trash fire shifters. I mean, you’ve seen Mathers and Barnum. Total assholes. Yet we were tossed in here with them? What did we do that was so bad?”

  Marcus’s expression closed off.

  “I’m not asking you to tell me,” Lena rushed to say. Marcus was hypersensitive to any kind of discussion about why he’d been sent to the Junkyard. The one time Lena had openly asked him for details on why he was here, he’d carefully set down his plate, as if he was just barely keeping himself from throwing it. Then he’d walked away, not a word spoken.