by Lynn Lorenz
Lust set up a dull roar in his ears as he watched her move toward him. She took strong, confident steps which set her hips to a primal sway. She was magnificent.
“How’s your pie?” Her voice was hardly more than a rough purr, low and sultry.
“Wonderful,” he answered, drinking in the sight of her, forgetting the pie already.
“You seem much calmer now. Are you ready to go to the hospital with Eddie?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He shook his head. “I’m not injured. I’d just woken up, I was groggy. I’m fine.”
Her brows furrowed. “Are you sure? Eddie said … well. He said you freaked out.”
“I’m sure I seem strange to him. I’ve lived a very different sort of life. I didn’t mean to frighten him.”
“Aww, Rip, you didn’t scare me.” Eddie appeared behind Lacey and smiled over her shoulder before easing himself into the seat across from Rip. “But I am concerned about a head injury.”
“I’m not injured.” Rip repeated, not taking his eyes off Lacey. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he wanted nothing more than to find some place he could be alone with this woman. He had a hundred years of leptin-induced celibacy to work off.
“Well—if you’re sure you’re okay—can I give you a ride home?”
Home. My cave. He was certain Eddie wouldn’t take him back to the cave, and explaining his ursine nature to humans…
“I don’t…” His voice trailed off. He felt a flush filling his face.
“You’re homeless?” Lacey, still standing by the table, interrupted. “Rip? Do you have a friend nearby, family, anyone?”
He shook his head, embarrassed. I woke up one hundred years after I should have. I have no family, no friends anymore. I don’t even know where to find others of my kind.
“I’m sorry, I should just go.”
“Wait.” Lacey put her hand over his. Her fingers were warm and soft and her touch made his cock swell even harder. He looked up into her blue eyes. “The nearest shelter is in Burlington. There’s an apartment above the diner. You can stay here.”
“Lace,” Eddie interrupted, “are you sure that’s a good idea?” The other man frowned at Rip as though he were suddenly suspicious. Rip rushed to reassure them both.
“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your hospitality. I’ll get out of your way in the morning.”
* * * *
Stupid. You’re so fucking stupid, Lacey.
She couldn’t believe she’d just offered to let a stranger stay in the apartment upstairs. True, it was vacant after her brother’s visit last month, and it wasn’t like he could get into the diner from there, but she didn’t know this guy, and he was as weird as Eddie had said. But something about him intrigued her. The way he’d looked up at her when she touched his hand? The look he’d given her could melt a nun’s panties. But beyond the raw magnetism, he had a trustworthy air about him. And she’d always been a sucker for a good mystery—she was dying of curiosity.
“It’s fine, Eddie. The guy needs a place to stay and I have an empty apartment. Rip, you’re welcome to stay a few days. Maybe I can help you find some work. I could use a dishwasher, actually.”
Not that she could pay him any more than minimum wage.
Rip smiled at her, and her knees actually got a little weak. Un-fucking-believable. She steadied herself with a hand on the table while she waited for an answer. Under her gaze, he blushed.
“Can we talk about it in the morning? I think I’d really like a bath.”
“Sure. I’ll show you upstairs. I’m just going to get the key.”
Her heart racing, Lacey paced through the kitchen and grabbed the key to the apartment off the hook by the time clock in her office. She took a moment to smooth a few loose hairs back behind her ears. She was going to be alone with the big mysterious stranger. Was she crazy?
“Hey, Carrie, Stanley? I’m going upstairs for a minute,” she called over her shoulder.
“Okay,” Carrie called back. Stanley didn’t say anything, just nodded gruffly from where he stood by the grill when she looked at him.
Back at Eddie and Rip’s table, Rip stood. She took in the sight of him—his clothes looked ragged and worn. Homeless. How long had he been sleeping in the woods? In a cold Vermont winter? She shivered. Amazing he’d survived. Suddenly, giving him a safe, warm place to sleep seemed vitally important. Emboldened by her own generosity, her conviction this wasn’t just a nice thing to do, but the right thing to do, she smiled at him.
“C’mon, big guy.” She gestured toward the door. “We have to go around the back to reach the stairs.”
“Thank you, Eddie.” Rip turned to the ranger. “I’m sorry I was such a burden.”
“That’s okay, Rip. I guess you’re in good hands now.”
Lacey didn’t like the undercurrent of possessiveness in Eddie’s voice. She had known Eddie a long time, but they’d never been more than friends. She looked at Rip again. “Do you have a coat?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Okay, let’s hurry then.”
The apartment was cold, so she turned on the heat, letting the burned-dust smell permeate the air. She showed him the kitchen, the bathroom, and the small, sparsely-furnished bedroom, and watched Rip take in his surroundings with wide eyes.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”
He nodded. “Thank you again, Lacey. For giving me a place to stay. I appreciate it more than I can convey.”
Something in his voice made her study him more carefully. He looked lost, alone. Something in his eyes seemed immeasurably sad and broken. She crossed the room and took his hand in her own. “Shhh,” she crooned. “It’s going to be okay.”
He nodded, looking right into her eyes. Again, she felt an electric shock of expectancy crackle around them. He really was devastatingly good looking.
“You said you wanted a bath, there are towels in the bathroom. I think my brother keeps some clothes here for when he comes up to go skiing. He usually stays here rather than up at the lodge. Check the closet in the bedroom. He’s about your size, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind your borrowing something,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” His gaze dropped to her lips as he spoke, and one huge hand drifted up to rest on that place where her neck met her shoulder. She shivered at the warmth in his hand, the roughness of his fingertips skating ever-so-lightly across her skin. He leaned in close and brushed a kiss over her cheek, his beard scratching gently. Her hand stroked the side of his face, holding that contact close for one electrifying instant before he pulled back and smiled.
“You’re welcome,” she murmured, her hand stealing up to cover the spot on her cheek his lips had touched, now tingling with an awareness of him. An ache throbbed low in her body, her sex clenching in anticipation. She’d gotten wet just at the suggestion of a kiss. She was out of her mind. “I’ll be back to check on you after the diner closes. If you want me to knock, leave the light over the stairs on. If it’s dark, I’ll know you went to sleep and I’ll leave you alone until morning.”
He nodded tightly, studying her carefully. Blushing, she nodded back.
Then, she got the hell out of there before she let her curiosity get the best of her and kissed him for real.
* * * *
The door slammed shut behind Lacey, and Rip groaned. Hell, he’d never been so turned on in his life. The smell of her, soft and close, was like coffee and sugar and the foods from the diner downstairs, but that smell covered something more, some unique pheromone signature which called to him, and him alone. He hadn’t been lying, the pie had been wonderful, but now that the edge had been taken off his hunger, his body ached in a thousand other ways, the most potent being his overarching lust for the woman downstairs.
He made his way to the small bathroom and fiddled with the taps in the bathtub until the water ran hot over his fingers. When the tub was full, he sank into it with a groan of bliss.
Heaven. He’d woken up one hundre
d years late and found an abundance of warmth. Warm food, warm water, and if his luck held out, a warm, warm woman to mate.
Mate. It was a strange word. He had figured himself for a lifelong bachelor when he hadn’t mated by the time he was thirty. It didn’t bother him. He liked women, but the idea of mating with one of them, tying his life to hers? Bah, he’d rather burn. But this woman, she made him burn in a good way.
Thinking of the soft little noise she’d made when he’d bussed her cheek, he stroked his cock, which had been hard since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He squeezed, and liquid heat traveled along his spine, pooling low, filling his balls with tension. His hand traveled up and down as he imagined her crawling to him on all fours, begging him to take her. He could see her blue eyes glazed with pleasure as he sank into her body. He could imagine the way she’d clasp him tight, made for him. What sort of noise would she make if he bit her shoulder while he fucked into her from behind? What if he slapped her ass, making it turn pink under his hand? Excited by the fantasy, he felt the rush to orgasm begin to spike, heat rushing from balls to cock and then spilling out into his hand, a rush of pleasure, released.
* * * *
The light was on. It was nearly two a.m. by the time Lacey and Stanley finished cleaning the kitchen. They’d sent Carrie home at midnight when they closed the doors, and now, Lacey stood behind the restaurant, staring up at the beacon of light outside the apartment door, beckoning her to come upstairs and knock. And then what? Common sense told her to check on him, and then get the hell out of there and hurry home to her own empty bed.
But that part of her which longed for adventure and fantasy burned for him. Twice while serving customers that night, she’d been hit with a rush of longing and lust at the thought of the man upstairs, clean from his bath, waiting for her. Twice, she’d nearly locked herself in the single stall bathroom to masturbate, the need was so fierce. She’d never responded to a man like this before. She needed him. She wanted nothing more than to look him in the eyes and demand he fuck her, hard and fast.
“Whore.” A voice behind her made her jump. She looked over her shoulder and saw Stanley standing by his truck. Startled, she turned and stared at him, no retort coming to her lips. She should say something. Defend herself. Fire his insolent ass.
“What did you say to me?” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears, shaky and nervous. How many nights had she and Stanley locked up together? He’d never been anything but polite. The marriage proposal had been a little weird, but it hadn’t changed their working relationship.
“You’re a whore. You were gonna go upstairs to that thing and spread your legs for him. Unmarried. Unrepentant. Whore.”
She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat, clenching her car keys tight in her shaking fist.
“You’re fired,” she whispered.
“You can’t fire me. Jordan owns the Place now. He asked me to keep an eye on you. What would he say to you whoring yourself out to a stranger?”
Stanley walked closer, filling her field of vision. God, who would hear her if she screamed? Would Rip come to her aid if he heard? She took a step back, fumbling for the small can of pepper spray Jordan had given her. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to use it. As if he sensed her intention, Stanley shot a hand forward, grabbing her wrist and pinning it behind her. Her keys, along with the pepper spray, fell to the ground and pain raced up into her shoulder.
The scream filling the air had to be coming from her, but she didn’t know how she made it. Stanley’s gloved hand wrapped around her face, covering her mouth. She bit, tasting wool and blood, and the pain in her arm intensified.
Then it was over, her arm was free, and Stanley was the one screaming. She tried to make sense of the sight before her but nothing made sense about the big black bear on all fours over Stanley, teeth bared, a low growl wrenching from an ursine throat.
Intelligent brown eyes stared at her, and a low moan issued from the animal. She watched, awestruck, as it raised one big paw. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the huge paw slapping Stanley across the face. His scream cut off suddenly, leaving the air empty except for an echo ringing off the mountain.
Chest heaving, she stared as the animal turned back to her. She reached for the pepper spray, fumbling at her feet, not taking her eyes off the creature in her parking lot. When it straightened, the air crackled and shimmered and the bear seemed to shrink before her eyes.
No.
Her brain simply refused to cooperate anymore. No thirst for adventure could ever have prepared her for seeing a bear turn into the man she’d been lusting after all evening. Nothing could prepare her for sight of his naked body standing in the footprints of a bear. Nausea and dizziness flooded her.
Holy shit. People really did faint from shock.
Chapter 3
“Where am I?”
When she came to, Lacey felt the words rush from her mouth even as her brain filled in the answer. She was in the apartment over the diner. She shivered, looking around. She was stretched out on the sofa in the tiny living room, her feet tucked under a blanket.
“Hey.” Rip stood by the door, unsmiling. He’d pulled on a pair of Jordan’s jeans, but his chest was bare.
Bare. Bear. Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear…
Oh shit. She was fucking delirious from shock. She hadn’t imagined the bear, had she?
“Bear,” she whispered.
He nodded, crossing the room to her. She shrank back a moment, even as he hummed a soft shushing noise. “I won’t hurt you, Lacey. I would never, ever hurt you. Are you okay?”
She nodded, pushing to a sitting position so she could feel her head for bumps.
“You didn’t hit your head when you fell. You fell toward me and I caught you.” His lips quirked up in a smile. “At least for one moment tonight, I was in the right place and the right time. Who is he?”
Fuck. Stanley. Lacey shuddered.
“Stanley. He is … was … my cook. I had just fired him.” Suddenly, she recalled the way Rip, in his bear form, slapped Stanley unconscious. “Is he…?”
“He’s fine. I just knocked him out. He’s in the kitchen. He’s still unconscious. I don’t know what the protocol is for dealing with an unconscious human.”
“I should call…” Who? The police? Stanley’s sister? And tell them what?
“Do you want to just wait until he wakes up to decide?” Rip’s eyes were full of concern. She nodded.
“Yeah. I can do that. Listen, Rip, I’m exhausted. I’m confused. I just fired my cook and I have to open the restaurant in…” she glanced at her watch. “Three hours.” She felt unshed tears sting her nose. “And I don’t even know if Terri is going to show up for her shift. Or Carrie.”
“Shhh. It’s okay. Go ahead and climb into bed. I’ve gotten a lifetime’s worth of sleep over the winter. I’ll watch over Stanley.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Go on.” He smiled at her, making her insides do a weird flip-flopping thing. She was seriously fucking nuts, but she felt pretty certain if he was going to maul her or assault her in any way, he probably could have done it already. She stood up and made her way into the bedroom. She peeled off her tights, and then she slid between the cold sheets, still clothed in her diner uniform, and tugged the blanket up to her chin.
Sleep eluded her. She didn’t know how long she tossed and turned, with the rest she craved just out of reach.
“Hey.” She heard Rip’s voice from the doorway, and she flopped onto her back and stared up at him, dimly lit by moonlight coming through the window.
“I can’t sleep,” she groaned in frustration.
“Let me help,” he whispered, moving toward her in the darkness. He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her in his arms. His bare chest was warm to the touch and she snuggled closer to him. She tangled her fingertips in his beard, craving closeness. A deep guttural noise rattled from his chest, and then his lips crushed down on hers.
His kiss lit her nerves on fire, the softness of his beard tickling her chin as his tongue slid into her mouth. Her desire-laden gasp echoed through the darkened bedroom. Arousal swamped her as she surged up to straddle his lap, rocking her hips into the hard bulge in the front of his jeans. His hands skimmed down the back of her dress, and as the cold air hit her spine, she realized he’d unzipped her to the waist. She pulled back, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth and then burying her face in the warmth where his neck and shoulder met.
“I want you,” she muttered, her voice sounding somehow both muffled and loud in the quiet room. He freed her arms from the dress, pushing it to her waist and cupping her breasts in his hands. Big thumbs flicked rough across her nipples, teasing them to respond, and respond they did. They tightened and pulled, sending a throbbing, aching tension echoing into her core. She arched into his hands, silently begging for more.
She could feel him studying her, gauging her responses to his every move. He dropped her left breast and focused his attention on the right one, covering it with both hands, kneading and pinching, tugging at the nipple. As delicious as that was, the neglected breast began to ache and she bit her lip in frustration.
“Please.”
He dropped the right breast and stared at her for a moment. She met his gaze, unable to remember a time in her life she’d felt this turned on, strung out, ready to beg if he’d just suck her, lick her, make her come and shout and cry.