by Ruby Dixon
But this is Pine Falls, and if I’ve learned something about this place in the last three years or so, it’s that the locals like to be in each other’s business. Which is fine, because the neighbor in question is Mal Standard, and I’ve had a crush on the man ever since I was seventeen years old. So finding out that he’s peeping in my windows and hanging around outside?
I’m stupidly thrilled.
Mal’s the first person I remember meeting when I came to Pine Falls during my senior year of high school. Mom was entering rehab, and Dad was out of the picture, so Aunt Mary offered to take me in. I was lonely, bored, and out of sorts, so I got a job at the local grocery. Mal was there on my first day, and even though I couldn’t seem to ring up anything in his purchase correctly, he’d smiled at me and made me feel like he was the awkward one, not me. I’ve always remembered that.
He’s not a great-looking guy, Mal. He’s enormous and built thick—not fat, but just solid and strong as hell. I’ve seen him without his shirt on, and there’s not an inch to pinch. His face is a little rough around the edges, and his nose has been broken more times than a nose probably should have been, but there’s something about his face that attracts me. Maybe it’s the sheer masculinity he exudes. Maybe it’s the slight blush on his big, manly guy’s face when he talks to me. Maybe it’s the fact that he makes me feel special when he looks at me.
He thinks I don’t notice, but oh boy, do I notice.
So I jabber some offhand information to the sheriff and then hang up the phone quickly, all so I can go back outside and talk to Mal before he runs away again. He’s in his thirties, and I don’t think he likes girls as young as me…except I’m about to turn twenty-one, and I don’t give a crap about our age difference.
I more or less gallop back outside so I can talk to him.
Mal’s still there, the thug at his feet. He’s got the kid by the collar, and he looks so casually lethal that it makes me shiver. God, he’s sexy. I jam my hands in my jean pockets and stroll back out to him. “Sheriff’s on his way.”
“Good.” That’s all Mal says. Just “good.”
“You gonna have this pervert arrested?” the kid yells, gesturing at Mal. “He’s fucking staring in at you. I bet he does that shit every night. Goddamn creep.”
I tilt my head and rock on my heels, the picture of casualness. My heart’s racing at the thought, though. Every night? Really? Mal has a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face that tells me the kid’s comment isn’t that far off from the truth, and a warm flush moves over me.
Does Mal…like me? I smile. “Well, I’m glad you were here tonight, because you kept me safe.”
Mal grunts.
Even though it’s a little chilly due to the late hour, I stay and chat to Mal while we wait for the sheriff to arrive. Or rather, I chat about the weather and football and whatever I can think of, and Mal just gives me an occasional monosyllabic answer that lets me know he’s listening. It’s a little frustrating, but it’s also hard to have a conversation with someone when you’re holding a thug down.
The sheriff arrives, takes our statements, and Mal promises to show up at the police station tomorrow morning for additional paperwork. It’s been an hour, and I’m freezing cold at this point, but I’m also determined to talk to Mal and find out what the situation really is. We watch as the sheriff’s patrol car heads back down the street, and then I turn to Mal. I smile brightly at him. “Wanna come in for some coffee?”
It takes him a moment to respond, but he eventually shakes his head. “I shouldn’t—”
“I’ll feel better if you check out my house to make sure no one else is hiding nearby,” I volunteer quickly. “Please, Mal?”
That gets him. He wavers for a moment, and then gives me an abrupt nod. Success. I reach for his arm and guide him in like he’s my prom date.
My tiny townhouse isn’t much to look at. Most of my furniture is hand-me-downs, and my walls are bare of anything except a wolf poster or two that I got from work. I haven’t had much time or inclination to decorate. This place doesn’t feel like home to me. My lease is up in a few months, and I guess I need to decide if I’m going to stay in Pine Falls or seek out somewhere else.
I wonder…if I told Mal I was thinking about leaving, would he encourage me to stay? Or would he just go silent again and let me walk away?
I’m disturbed at the answer I keep coming to. With a sigh, I push my door open and step in. “I really appreciate you being so neighborly.”
Mal grunts another response and immediately heads for my back door. He checks a closet along the way, and I head into the kitchen to put on my coffee pot. My newly made macaroni and three-meat casserole is cooling on the counter, and I dish him up a generous portion of that as well. I give my rickety dining table a quick swipe with a towel and then light two candles and set the table for two.
Let’s see if he can resist the obvious.
I sit down and place a napkin in my lap, my own plate untouched in front of me. A moment later, Mal strolls in. “Everything seems to be clear—” He cuts off at the sight of the table I’ve set: coffee, hot, cheesy casserole, and candles. His eyes narrow, and I worry I’ve made a mistake.
So I decide to play it casual. I pick up my fork and gesture at his plate. “It’s getting cold. Help yourself.” I take a bite, waiting to see if he’s going to run or if he’s going to sit down and join me.
He thumps into the seat, looks at me, and then begins to shovel food into his mouth. It’s clear he wants to get out of here, and I admit my feelings are a teensy bit hurt by that. “Am I that terrible to be around?” I say, and force a laugh from my throat.
Mal freezes and looks distinctly uncomfortable. He swallows hard and then says, “Food’s good.”
I relax. Maybe he’s just not good with people. Maybe I’m coming on too strong. You wouldn’t think that lighting two fricking candles would make a man panic, but it’s clear that Mal’s uncomfortable. Or maybe it’s me. Maybe he’s not attracted to me and is trying to let me down easy. I bite back my sigh of frustration and give him a smile. “You like it? I figure you can’t go wrong with a lot of meat and cheese.”
He nods and eats another forkful. I toy with mine.
Uncomfortable silence falls. After a moment, Mal clears his throat. “How’s work?”
I shrug. “Slow. One of the grants was recently revoked, and so they’re looking for ways to cut back in the spring.” It also means I might not have a job in a couple of months, but I’m not entirely sure if that’s a bad thing. Pine Falls is great, and I love my Aunt Mary, but I’m lonely. I want to date. Heck, I’d love to date Mal, but I seem to be completely invisible to the world here. I’m starting to think Pine Falls isn’t the fresh start I wanted. I poke at my food again. I’m not sure how to make a guy like Mal want me. No matter what I do, I’m invisible. I could walk out in front of him naked and he’d comment on the weather.
I sigh.
“You okay?”
I look up, startled. Was that out loud? “Just a little antsy.”
“You want me to look around your place again?”
I shake my head and stab a macaroni noodle with my fork. “Nah. It’s okay.”
He grunts and takes a sip of coffee.
“You should probably be careful for bears out there anyhow. I keep thinking I see one in the forest behind the house.” Our townhouses are on the edge of the woods, and sometimes I see deer, sometimes other wildlife.
Mal chokes on his coffee.
“You okay?” I get up from my chair, grab a roll of paper towels, and offer him one.
He slams a big hand against his chest and coughs. I move to his side and give him a polite pat on the back. At my touch, he immediately jumps from his chair. “I should go,” he chokes out. He nods at me and then races toward the door. A moment later, he disappears, and I’m left with the saddest dinner for two ever.
Sigh.
I blow out the candles, clean up my kitchen, and head upstai
rs for bed. It’s warm in my bedroom, and I like the cool night air, so I open the window and pull the curtains aside. The stars are bright, and I wonder if I’ll see the bear lurking in the woods again tonight. For some reason, the sight of it never scares me. I just feel…less alone when it’s around.
Kinda like how I felt when I found out Mal was watching me.
I wonder if he’s still watching me. I hook the curtains behind the stays and then rip off my T-shirt in full view of the window. There’s nothing but forest behind my townhouse, so I’m not worried someone will see me.
Rather, I’m hoping a certain someone will see me.
I strip off the rest of my clothes, and then my hand slides to my pussy. I’m naked and brazen in front of my window.
Maybe I should put on a show in the hopes that Mal’s watching. Maybe then he’ll get the idea.
Chapter Three
Mal
I ate her food. I sat in her house. I was close enough to touch her. Winded, I rest in the woods just beyond her small townhouse. I could feed off this interaction for an entire season.
I wish I was more…polished, like Eli the Lodge owner, or had an easier way with the ladies, like Leo. But I was born with an ugly mug and a big brute of a body, and I have the social charm of an ant.
I’m the sow’s ear, and no amount of finagling will make me into a pretty purse. Being alone suits me. I don’t like a lot of people. Humans smell weird, and bears get my dander up. I keep wanting to fight for dominance even though there’s no point. We don’t really have packs, and I leave the governing to Eli since he appears to enjoy it and has, so far, done a decent job.
I can’t make small talk. I know I made Ryann feel awkward at dinner, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wouldn’t mark me as a complete psychopath. Hey, Ryann, mind if I sweep this all on the floor and set you on the table? Because you smell like honey heaven, and what you’ve got between your legs is going to taste better on my tongue than anything cooked up on that stove.
I stare at my big palms and lick my lips at the thought of sliding them up her thighs and spreading her legs apart until her pussy opens like a bud at the first whistle of spring.
A flicker of white catches my eye. My head jerks up, and I scan the surroundings. The parking lot looks empty. I sniff a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary. Trash to my right. Gasoline from the parked cars. Heated asphalt. Spaghetti sauce. Ryann’s arousal. Iron—
I halt and backtrack mentally. Ryann’s arousal? I sniff again. It’s faint, but there’s something in the area that smells of desire and the warm scent of her skin. The white flickers in the corner of my eye again. I rise and pad closer to Ryann’s window.
The large conifers shield me from the street, but the curtains are open, and I can see directly inside.
The vision that greets me has me staggering to my knees. Ryann. Open. Her fingers. Touch.
I can’t form complete sentences. The white must have been her curtain waving in the breeze. I crawl forward.
Her hand moves up and down slowly as she strokes herself. With her other hand, she touches her bare breasts, squeezing one and then the other.
My mouth waters as the aroma of her want grows stronger. I strain forward, trying to hear the sounds she’s making. Is she moaning? Is her pussy wet enough that there’s a naughty sucking noise when she drives her fingers inside her cunt?
I swipe an unsteady hand across my mouth. I could fill her pussy up with my fingers and lick that little clit with my tongue. Whatever she wants, I could give her.
I’d lap her until her essences coat my throat and my cheeks are bruised by the force of her thighs clenched around my face as I devour her. I creep closer, and her hands move faster. She’s peaking. Her beautiful golden skin is flushed with desire.
Shamelessly, I watch her and imagine doing a dozen dirty things to her. If I were inside I’d move her away from the window and carry her into the bedroom. Once there, I’d put her over my knee and spank her until her ass was rosy red for standing in front of the window, fingering herself where any asshole could see her.
Then I’d slide two fingers inside her cunt and pump her until she came. That’d be her first orgasm. She’d let out a little cry because it’d be a short one. It wouldn’t matter because there would be more. So much more.
After she came, I’d flip her onto her back and stick my face between her legs. I’d spread her wide, holding her open so she couldn’t escape. I’d lash her with my tongue licking from her asshole to her clit and then back again. I’d torment her with just my tongue until she was pulling at my hair and begging me to finish it.
Only then would I harden my tongue and arrow it into her sopping cunt. I’d drink her down until my face was covered with her juices.
And I still wouldn’t be done. Oh no. I’d flip her over then because my cock would be rock hard and aching like a motherfucker, much as it is right now. It’d be huge, pulsing red, and dripping with pre-come.
But first, I’d bend over and spread those ass cheeks. She’d squirm, all innocent, because no one has ever touched her there before. But she’d not breathe a word of protest as I’d rim her puckered skin with my tongue and make shallow stabs until she was weeping with need.
Once she was ready, I’d take my cock in hand and slowly, very carefully because she’s tight and untried, work my shaft inside her virgin pussy.
We’d have to stop and pause every inch or so because I’m so big and she’s so tiny. But all the while, she’d be begging for me to fill her up, fill all her empty spaces.
When I close that last distance, when I’m balls deep in her, I’ll drop my head to the space between her shoulder blades and gather up all my self-control so I won’t go crazy, pounding into her.
Drenched with sweat, lubricated by our mutual wants, I’d start moving, shafting her slowly. She’d grunt into the mattress with every thrust. And as we made love, she’d squirm her ass against my groin and start begging me to fuck her harder, faster. I’d reach around and roll that clit between my fingers until she’d shoot off like a firework on the Fourth of July.
I roar my own desire, loud. A gasp shakes me out of my fantasy. Framed by the window, Ryann is staring at me, open-mouthed. A wetness seeps onto my fingers. I look down and see that I’ve come on my hand.
I’d been so caught up in my damn fantasy, I hadn’t realized that I walked all the way to Ryann’s window, whipped out my dick, and started jacking it right in front of her.
Her hand spreads like a starfish on the window. She may have called my name. I don’t know. Embarrassment is roaring through my ears, and I turn away, shifting into bear form and running toward the woods.
Sheriff Gant is a bear shifter like me, but this even he might not be able to overlook.
I run across the parking lot and then leap into the dark edge of the forest. Shame rides me hard, and I don’t even notice the trap until I’m on top of it.
The metal teeth clamp around my back left paw.
Fuck!
I release an angry yowl and shift back, but the clamp only tightens on my ankle. The metal teeth sink into my skin, breaking through the flesh and tearing at my veins and bones. I try to rip it off with my hands, but the iron is too damn strong.
Naked, I stand there, panting and in pain. I need to get help. Sheriff Gant is the closest, but I might have to avoid him. This late at night, I could get help either at the tavern or the Lodge. I opt for the Lodge.
The sooner I get there, the better chance I have of healing my wound. I start to shift back into a bear when I hear a rustle in the woods.
“Mal? Mal?”
It’s Ryann calling for me.
Shit. I look down at my naked body. Shifting is easy for us bears, but something in the process eats our clothing, and when we shift back, we’re naked as the day we were born.
Most of the shifters in the area contribute to caches in the woods that hold food, water, and clothing. But the shallow part of the forest, just on
the edge of human territory and close to pack quarters, won’t have any of those caches.
And even if there was one, I wouldn’t get to it in time. I struggle to think of an excuse that Ryann will buy, and since I can’t figure one out, I decide to warn her away.
“It’s dangerous back here, Ryann. There’s a trap. Maybe more than one. Stay where you are.”
“I heard you yell.” Her voice is closer now. “Are you hurt? I can help you. I’ve learned some first-aid techniques at the Rescue Center. I mean, it was for wolves, but I want to help.”
“No. I don’t need your help,” I bite out more sharply than I intend.
“Oh.” Her voice is closer still, and there’s a tendril of hurt laced through that small sound. “Are you sure? It sounded really painful.”
“I’m fine. Good, really.” My ankle throbs in mockery of my claim.
“I think I should look at it,” she insists.
And I don’t have it in me to drive her away with more terse and hurtful words. “I’m not…” I struggle to get the words out. “I’m not decent. I don’t think you want to see me like this.”
Her breath hitches. “Like what? Like you were outside my window?”
An agonized groan seeps out of me. “I’m sorry for that. Real sorry. You can talk to the sheriff about it. I won’t…” Won’t what? Come around again? That’d be a lie. Even if Sheriff Gant locked me up, I’d be back the minute I was out. “You won’t see me again,” I finish. At least I could ensure that.
“I—I wanted to see you, Mal.” Her figure breaks through the foliage to stand before me. She gasps at the sight of my nakedness, but I’m too busy devouring her with my eyes to care. She’s wearing tiny shorts and a T-shirt and a pair of boots. The outfit should look ridiculous, but it only makes my mouth run dry and my hands curl into fists. The longing that sweeps over me drowns out any pain from the trap. “I know you’ve been watching me, and I wanted you to know it was okay. I invited you to dinner tonight because I thought…” She bites her lip, and my heart starts racing. “I thought you might want to go out sometime.”