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Bear Naked

Page 24

by Dana Marie Bell


  Temp looked confused. “So it didn’t hurt Glory when you changed her?”

  Ryan’s cheeks flushed. No fucking way he was telling her brother that it had been far from pain his mate had felt. “Nope.”

  “But Hope, she was hurt.”

  “Yeah. And not just by the bite.”

  “Fucker. I am so glad he’s dead.” Temp sighed. “Ryan?”

  “Yeah?”

  Temp took a deep, cleansing breath.

  Ryan prepared himself for what he knew was coming. Glory, he felt, would approve.

  “Bite me.”

  Ryan nodded, and silently gave his brother-in-law his wish.

  Glory closed the curtain as her brother bit back a scream. Ryan would take care of Temp, just like he took care of her.

  She smirked as she made her way to her bed. Their bed.

  Okay, maybe not quite the way her mate took care of her. And when he crawled into bed with her half an hour later, Glory made sure she showed Ryan that she could take very good care of him.

  About the Author

  Dana Marie Bell wrote her first short story when she was thirteen years old. She attended the High School for Creative and Performing Arts for creative writing. When her parents moved out of the city and placed her in a Catholic high school for her senior year she tried desperately to escape, but the nuns held fast. She’s now a USA Today best-selling author.

  Dana lives with her soul mate and husband Dusty, their two maniacal children, an evil ice-cream-stealing cat and a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekinese. She also suffers from a rare inflammatory arthritis and can be seen walking with a cane or tooling around in her mobility scooter. Her condition was the inspiration for Belle’s hip injury in Steel Beauty.

  You can learn more about Dana at: www.danamariebell.com and danamariebell.blogspot.com.

  Look for these titles by Dana Marie Bell

  Now Available:

  Halle Pumas

  The Wallflower

  Sweet Dreams

  Cat of a Different Color

  Steel Beauty

  Only In My Dreams

  Halle Shifters

  Bear Necessities

  Cynful

  The Gray Court

  Dare to Believe

  Noble Blood

  Artistic Vision

  The Hob

  Heart’s Desire

  Shadow of the Wolf

  Hecate’s Own

  Poconos Pack

  Finding Forgiveness

  Mr. Red Riding Hoode

  True Destiny

  Very Much Alive

  Eye of the Beholder

  Howl for Me

  Morgan’s Fate

  Coming Soon:

  Heart’s Desire

  The Wizard King

  The Gray Court

  Siren’s Song

  The better to make you mine, my dear…

  Mr. Red Riding Hoode

  © 2013 Dana Marie Bell

  Poconos Pack, Book 2

  When it came down to saving his best friend Ben’s relationship, Steven Hoode didn’t hesitate to trade his Florida timeshare for a month at Red Wolf Lodge. Cold weather isn’t his favorite thing, but hot snow bunnies are, so he plans to make the most of his vacation.

  Good karma kicks in when he sees a pretty brunette chatting with the lodge owner. All thoughts of nuptials and nookie take a back seat to the heat that flares between them.

  When Graciela “Chela” Mendoza catches sight of the gorgeous man shivering in a red-hooded parka, she realizes why he makes her heart beat faster. He’s her mate. The problem? Steven has no idea his friends are Wolves.

  Chela plans to break it to him gently, but when he accidently witnesses the whole Pack shifting, things get a bit…hairy. He bolts, locking himself in his cabin and refusing to listen, even to Ben.

  Unless she can get him to see that Wolves are people, too, Chela will lose her mate faster than she can say woof.

  Warning: This book contains explicit sex, graphic language, a man packing some nice goodies and a she-Wolf all ready to gobble them up.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Mr. Red Riding Hoode:

  “Do you want Ben kissing your neck?”

  The way his eyes went wide would have made her laugh again if this weren’t the moment she’d been waiting for. She held her breath, praying with everything in her that Steve chose her.

  He stared down at his half-eaten steak, his expression grim. His emotions were all over the place, making her dizzy. But when they finally settled down, when his blue eyes finally met hers again, she nearly sagged in relief. He’d made his decision.

  Steven nodded once. “If you’re telling me the truth, then I’d rather you bite me.”

  Chela stood. She could barely keep the smile off her face. “You won’t regret this.”

  He grimaced. “There’s a lot of questions I still have, but…” He sighed. “Ben has never once hurt me. I have to trust in that, if nothing else.”

  That wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped to hear, but she’d take it. She’d work on winning his heart after he’d accepted the bite.

  She was patient.

  She opened her mouth so he could watch her fangs grow in. She wanted him a part of this, to see everything that was about to happen. Her eyes changed, going over to her wolf’s. Her vision changed as she lost the red-green spectrum. His red shirt now appeared to be deep mustard yellow, but his blue eyes darkened, sharpened. His blond hair appeared lighter, almost white.

  He looked ethereal yet strong, a fairy warrior come to life just for her.

  “Holy shit. What big teeth you have, Grandma.”

  She wasn’t fooled. The sight of her fangs had made him fearful again. “This won’t hurt, I swear.”

  “You can say that, but you aren’t the one facing the fangs.”

  She tried for humor once more. She shook her head and tsked. “Just because you’re a virgin…”

  He glared at her. “I am not.”

  She put her hand on her chest and fluttered her lashes. “Oh, it’s so big. I… I don’t think it will fit.”

  “I hate you right now.”

  Except she knew he didn’t. She could feel it, the uneasiness, but there was no hatred. Hatred burned, was acrid against her senses. Even when his fear had been at its highest point she hadn’t felt that. “At worst, it might sting a little, like getting a shot.”

  “Have I mentioned I hate needles?” He stood, towering over her. “Just…” He sighed, his emotions all over the place again, a jumble of nerves and fear and desire making her head spin. “Let’s get this over with, okay?”

  “You’re so romantic.” She tugged on his shirt, pulling him down so she could reach his neck. “I promise I’ll be gentle, you virgin, you.”

  His laugh had a bite of hysteria to it, but she didn’t give him time to think. She brushed her lips against his skin, the scent of him overwhelming. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her teeth scraping against his skin. Before he could protest, she sank her fangs into him, her joy nearly overwhelming as she released the mating enzyme.

  He was hers, and soon, she would be his.

  Whatever the fuck she’d just done to him, she needed to bottle it, because she’d make a fortune. Heat raced through him, his cock turning so hard he was afraid if he moved it might simply snap off from being confined by his jeans.

  And not even that image did anything to dampen the desire to rip Graciela’s clothes off and fuck her until she walked funny.

  He needed. He’d never needed anything the way he did Graciela. He had to make her squirm, make her want as much as he did. If he didn’t get her out of her clothes and on his cock in the next two seconds, he might just explode in a shower of lust-filled goo.

  He was tugging at her shirt before her teeth left his skin, desperate to feel her golden skin against his, test the weight of her breasts against his palms.

  She licked his neck, right where she’d bitten him, and he nearly dropp
ed to his knees. He shuddered, the feel of her tongue on that mark making him crazy with want.

  This was the result of the mating bite? This unwavering need to sink inside her, make her scream his name? The urge to come and come and come inside her until they didn’t know where she ended and he began?

  Hell. He should have said yes immediately.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He tugged her head back by her ponytail, devouring her mouth with all the savagery of a starving man. Clothes flew off as he pushed and pulled, hauled and yanked until she was naked, barely breaking the hungry kisses long enough to remove her shirt.

  She whimpered as he picked her up and carted her off to the bedroom, his hands tight on her firm, naked ass. And it was a fine ass too. Nicely rounded in all the right places. It fit his hands perfectly.

  She fit his hands perfectly. Part of him was terrified by that. A small, miniscule part that he promptly stomped on with all his might.

  The larger part of him wanted to know if she was a moaner or a screamer. He intended to find out.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. She was driving him crazy, her mouth busy on that fucking bite she’d given him, making him nearly drop her as pleasure raced through him.

  In record time he had her flat on her back on the bed, her legs over his forearms, her body spread for his viewing pleasure. The only problem was he couldn’t get enough of her mouth, of the way she tasted on his tongue. Pulling away to stare at his prize was just too much. He greedily sipped at her lips, drugging himself on her flavor, embedding it into his very soul.

  Eventually he’d want to taste her pussy, see if she was as sweet there, but for now he simply couldn’t make himself leave her lips.

  “Please.” She was tugging on his biceps, begging him, her breasts pressing against his chest as she arched into him, tempting him. His cock nudged her opening, startling him with how wet she already was. Her scent filled the air, warm woman and need captivating his senses.

  But instead of plunging into her, he bent to her breasts, taking one hard nipple in his mouth for a good, long suck that had her gasping under him. God, she tasted good here too, golden and warm as honey. She whimpered, her hands scrabbling against his skin, scoring it with her nails.

  She’d drawn blood, and for just a second he worried about wolf claws. When he glanced out of the corner of his eye, all he saw were the same pretty hands, the same short, clean nails with their deep pink polish.

  “Steven. Please!” She arched against him, an aching cry falling from her lips, her body shuddering as he continued to suckle her.

  Something settled inside him. That was what he’d needed, to feel her shudder in pleasure, to…to come for him.

  He could fuck her now, take her, make her his.

  But not yet. That shuddering, sweet cry had given him more satisfaction than fucking any of his former girlfriends had. He needed to hear it one more time before he finally took her.

  The adventure of a lifetime might just end in turmoil, but when it includes meeting your future mate, who gives a hoot?

  The Wicked

  © 2013 Thea Harrison

  For a librarian with a focus on rare magic books, Olivia’s new job is a dream come true. She has been hired as part of a team to help manage the safe transportation of the collection of books owned by the Vampyre sorceress Carling Severan. The fact that the library is located on a mysterious island in an Other land only heightens the adventure.

  Head of security for the expedition, Sebastian Hale is tired of his rootless life of adventure and finds himself attracted to the calm, beautiful librarian. But he is living a personal nightmare. He has been hit with a curse that is slowly taking away his sight, and he doesn’t know if he will survive the results.

  But the powerful feelings growing between them, along with Sebastian’s inner turmoil, take a backseat when they learn there is a traitor lurking among their expedition team. With Elder Races politics and a priceless library on the line, they’ll have to rely on each other to survive the experience.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Wicked:

  Olivia had already packed her bags, so when the time came to leave she only needed to collect her luggage from the guest bedroom. She had packed as her temporary employer, Carling Severan, had instructed, bringing one full-sized suitcase that could be left behind at either a hotel in San Francisco or a yacht in the Bay, and one water resistant pack that would carry all her essentials and clothing for the length of her stay on the island.

  Taking the instructions as her cue, she had packed sensible, sturdy clothing that would be suitable for field work—jeans, T-shirts, sweaters, a wind-resistant raincoat, hiking boots and sneakers—along with a leather-bound journal for taking notes.

  Mindful of the limited space in her pack, she kept her toiletries focused on the essentials, shampoo, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste and sunscreen, and she didn’t bother to pack any makeup. That morning she wore jeans, a light blue, form-fitting T-shirt and sneakers.

  Slinging the pack onto one shoulder, she wheeled the suitcase to the living room where Grace and Khalil stood with Max and Phaedra.

  As Olivia appeared, Khalil was speaking to his daughter. “It is nonsensical to summon a taxi for Olivia when you are both traveling to the same place. You will transport Olivia and her luggage with you.”

  Phaedra appeared to have no problem whatsoever in facing down her formidable father. She said in a cold voice, “The only reason to transport a human anywhere is to use it as a means to acquire a favor.”

  Khalil said, “You have been away too long, either as a pariah with a bent spirit or resting in an incorporeal state. You are supposed to use this job as a means to reacquaint yourself with the world. Do not attempt to bargain with anyone on this trip. Listen to how people interact with each other, and learn from it. Do as Grace suggested. Make small talk. Don’t kill anyone who does not deserve it.”

  Olivia raised her eyebrows. If ever there was an order based on too much subjectivity, that one was it.

  Grace must have felt the same, because she murmured, “Khalil.”

  Khalil and Phaedra turned to Grace at the same time, their heads tilted in exactly the same way, imperious and inquiring. Grace said to Phaedra, “Don’t kill anybody unless it is in self-defense. Period. Don’t risk making a fatal mistake and possibly becoming a pariah again. You do not have the right to decide if someone else may live or die.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” Phaedra said, eyes narrowed.

  Grace scowled and looked as if she would reply, but Olivia took that moment to step forward. “Excuse me,” she said. “I need to call for a taxi if I’m going to make it to the agency offices in time for the meeting.”

  Khalil folded his arms and looked at his daughter. Phaedra’s eyes narrowed further as she considered his expression. “Fine,” she said between her teeth. “But only for the duration of this job.” The younger Djinn turned to Olivia and gave her a razor sharp smile. “Come, human. We have a meeting to attend.”

  “Really, I don’t mind calling a taxi,” said Olivia. She would rather take a cab than get on Phaedra’s bad side. She set her pack on the floor next to her suitcase and walked toward Grace, intending to hug her goodbye.

  Phaedra’s corporeal form dissolved into a whirlwind of Power that engulfed Olivia and yanked her away from the world.

  A maelstrom surrounded her. There wasn’t anything solid or stable anywhere. She wanted to scream, but some stubborn sense of pride made her swallow it down. She would not give the ornery Djinn the satisfaction of knowing that she had rattled her.

  When the world re-formed, the details of her surroundings were completely different. Olivia stood in a polished hallway, outside double doors made from carved oak and propped open to reveal a conference room filled with several people.

  Phaedra materialized beside her, long blood-red hair whipping around regal white features that were filled with subtle, smug amuseme
nt.

  Everyone in the room turned to stare. They all wore different versions of the same kind of outfit Olivia wore, along with varying expressions of surprise.

  Details blurred in the moment, except for a few standouts. Carling Severan, former Queen of the Nightkind, stood at the head of the conference table. She was a dark-haired, beautiful woman, with honey-colored skin and long, almond-shaped dark eyes.

  Despite the fact that Olivia knew that Carling was one of the most Powerful witches in the world, and she was also one of the oldest and most Powerful Vampyres in the world, Olivia sensed no evidence whatsoever of the other woman’s Power. The fact that Carling could cloak her Power to that extent was more than a little unsettling.

  The Vampyre stood beside a man Olivia had never seen before. Both Carling and the man were the same height, which meant he could not be very tall, perhaps only a few inches taller than Olivia herself. He wore a plain gray T-shirt, jeans and boots, and he was extraordinarily striking, with a hard, boldly planed face half-hidden by sunglasses, short, dark brown hair speckled with flecks of white, and a palpable aura of power that was both physical and magical.

  Along with everybody else, he seemed to be staring at Olivia and Phaedra. With his sunglasses, it was hard to tell where his eyes were trained, but at least his face was turned in their direction.

  Olivia jerked her gaze away. She knew exactly what everybody was thinking. No one in her right mind would bargain away a costly, potentially dangerous favor in return for transportation from a Djinn, not for a trip that could be completed so easily by mundane means. Everyone present would think she was either insane, or insanely important.

  Actually, scratch that thought. Nobody would believe she was insanely important.

  There was probably a worse way to meet the people she would be working with for the next few weeks, but at the moment, she couldn’t think of what it would be.

 

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