by Unknown
Sex—at least the kind that didn’t involve solitary satisfaction with the aid of a battery-operated appliance—was a distant memory. Her last relationship had ended almost ten months ago and lately she hadn’t been in the mood to find herself a candidate for a fling.
Yes siree, a vacation affair was not out of the question. If the candidate in question passed muster. It appeared that Mr. Abominable here had just announced his candidacy.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said with delightful decidedness. How she loved a man who could take control…when she wanted him to. So far, so good. “Not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself, but it’s not good for you to be alone. I have tomorrow off work. I can take you down to Portage Glacier if you want.”
Her previously happy, pitter-pattery heart turned cold. Had she misread his intentions? “Glacier? As in hunk of ice?” Pooh. She’d had such high hopes for some…warmer activities.
His smile broadened. “Did you have something else in mind?” An evil glimmer sparked in his eyes.
Oh no, she hadn’t misunderstood. They were definitely on the same page. Bless Katie, she was getting triplets for her birthday. “Uh…” Her heart set about pitter-pattering again and within seconds her face felt like it had been sitting inches from the roaring blaze in the fireplace. It had been such a long time since she’d come on to a guy. And never had a man who looked as great as this one given her the time of day, let alone a fuck-me look.
Alaska was cool!
She’d heard rumors of a shortage of women here. Maybe Katie hadn’t been such an idiot for suggesting Alaska for their vacation after all. “Maybe,” she said, “though it would be nice knowing your name…um, before we do anything…”
He stood up, conveniently leaving the quilt on the floor in front of the fireplace’s hearth, and sauntered toward her. He moved with the strength and fluidity of an animal stalking prey. His body was absolutely perfect. Like romance-cover-model perfect. Smooth-skinned and suntanned. Muscular.
Big…hands.
By the time he was standing in front of her, she’d worked up a sweat just watching him. The air in the room had become thin and she was lightheaded.
He set one hand on each arm of her chair and leaned down until his nose almost touched hers. “Tarik Evert. Nice to meet you. And you are?”
She promptly forgot her name.
She forgot a lot of other things too.
They were all unimportant at the moment anyway.
“Tarik,” she repeated somehow, even though she was sure her lungs had stopped functioning some time ago.
“Yes, that’s my name but—”
“Nice to meet you too.” Something huge wedged itself in her throat. She swallowed. Hard. Several times. She let her gaze slide south. It followed a bumpy route over some chiseled pecs and a washboard stomach.
My, my, my, did they come nicely packaged in Alaska.
“A couple questions first,” she heard herself say. She was surprised she’d actually been able to speak.
“Sure.” He backed away, reached down, snatched up the quilt and wrapped it around his shoulders.
That was such a bad thing. She couldn’t see a bit of skin, except for above his neck and below his shins. Granted, the lack of exposed suntanned heaven did allow her to gather her thoughts a bit. “Are you married?” she asked, glancing at his left hand. That was always her first question when she met a man. Unlike a few of her friends, she did not do married guys.
“No. Not married. Never have been married. And probably never will be.”
Big check. Never will be? She’d heard that before. “Infected with any diseases?”
“Nope. And I have proof if you need it…uh, at home.”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” Check. “Committed any felonies? Or ever been profiled on America’s Most Wanted?”
“Heck, no. I’m a law-abiding professional.”
Check. “Professional?” Was he saying he was a male prostitute?
“Professional as in genetic researcher,” he clarified. “I’ve worked for Omega Corporation since graduating from U.A.F. with a Doctorate in Microbiology. I’d give you one of my cards but I left them at home.”
Of all the implausible stories. A scientist? Mr. Run-Around-the-Neighborhood-Naked? She giggled. “Imagine that. You left your cards at home. So you have a degree in microbiology? And you do research in genetics? How fascinating.” If only he were telling the truth. She adored men with brains. Although this guy would be overqualified for the position of vacation flame if he had truly been a genetic researcher. But who was she to complain if he wasn’t a genius? Absolutely scrumptious and safe. Willing…and clearly able. What more could a girl want for a short time fling?
You pass!
“So, did I pass?” he asked.
“With flying colors.”
He grinned and resumed his position over top of her. The blanket slid down his body, eventually landing in a heap at his feet. She wasn’t sad to see it there. “I’ve always done well on tests,” he practically purred.
She gave a little whimper as he slowly lowered his head to kiss her. “I’m not surprised,” she whispered against his mouth.
The kiss started out soft and slow and deliberate. He brushed his lips against hers, teasing, tormenting. She arched her back and lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. Anxious to feel his body pressed against hers, she pulled, sighing into their joined mouths when her wish came true and he lowered himself until he’d pinned her into the chair. She parted her legs, welcoming his hips between them. His cock prodded at the front seam of her jeans.
Their bodies smooshed together like that, it was no surprise the kiss deepened in a hurry. His tongue forced its way inside her mouth and wrestled hers into submission. It stroked and tasted and took until she couldn’t breathe. Then it took some more.
Too many clothes. She had on too many clothes. Her blood was sizzling, carrying liquid heat through her body, up to her scalp and down to her toes. She released his neck and ran her hands over his shoulders. She dug her fingernails into his smooth skin and tipped her hips to grind her burning pussy against his cock.
He growled. Literally. The sound made her even hotter. She reclaimed her tongue from his mouth and made a feeble attempt at using it for speech. All she managed to do was whimper again.
As if he’d read her mind, he sat back and ran his hands down the center of her body. He stopped at the hem of her knit top.
Tense and trembling, she watched his face as he slowly lifted the cotton knit to reveal her stomach, bra. She put up a silent cheer of glee at the raw hunger pulling his features into tense lines. The muscles in his jaw visibly clenched, making him look both dangerous and sexy.
That was the world’s perfect combination.
As he unfastened the front clip of her bra, she reached up to his brown-black hair. It was silky smooth, slightly curly. It suited him perfectly. She combed her fingers down the length then fisted her hands and pulled gently.
He had her bra straps pushed off her shoulders, and the cups had fallen to the sides, exposing her breasts. He traced a circle around one of her nipples and out of reflex, she arched her back. Aching need coursed through her body, hot and urgent, like a wildfire burning out of control. He tipped his head to look up at her face as he covered her nipple with his mouth.
Their gazes locked. He suckled her breast hungrily, the sensation sending pulse after pulse of heat down her spine to her belly.
She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations he stirred within her.
“You are so beautiful. So perfect. I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t…” He moved to the other breast. He flicked his tongue over her nipple until it was a tight, ubersensitive peak. Then he pulled it into his mouth. Warm. Wet.
She shuddered, arched her back more and yanked harder on his hair. “Oh, God,” she murmured, over and over and over. It wasn’t like she’d never had a guy fondle her breasts before, but
his expert technique, combined with the low rumble of his voice as he uttered those sexy words…she was in heaven.
She still had her pants on, and she was not happy about that. She released his hair and followed the lines of two perfect arms with her fingertips. When she found his hands, she grabbed them and pulled, placing them on the waistband of her jeans.
She knew he’d take the hint.
“My sweet kitten,” he murmured, kneeling on the floor at her feet. His fingers moved deftly as he unfastened her pants. Then he pulled until they slid down over her hips. Eager to help, she lifted her bottom off the chair. He pushed on the garment, following behind the retreating cotton and trailing little tickly kisses down her legs to her ankles. He lifted one stockinged foot and slid one pant leg off then repeated with the other. As he stood, he let his hands glide up her legs. They stopped on either side of her hips. His thumbs traced the lace running along the low-riding waistband of her black satin panties.
“Mmmm. Sexy. I like,” he said. “A lot.”
She was so very glad she’d decided to wear some decent-looking underwear on her trip. Not a single pair of ugly undies would be found in her luggage. She hadn’t planned on spending her first night in Alaska with a sexy stranger. But if she was honest with herself, she might admit she’d hoped she might meet a guy sometime these two weeks. She made no apologies for her preferences. Unattached sex made sense. A lot less complications that way, as long as a girl was smart about things.
His fingers ran along the narrow band circling one of her legs. Instinctively, she parted her legs to let it explore further down. Only then, as the cool air hit the material, did she realize how wet her panties had become. Her pussy burned to be filled. Her breath caught in her throat when a fingernail grazed the thin, soggy material covering her labia.
He smiled. “I love your scent. It’s so sweet and hot. I can’t get enough.” He licked his lips. “Damn, you’re perfect. I want to taste you.” Not waiting for her to find a way to drag some air into her lungs to respond, he hooked a finger in the crotch of her panties and jerked. The wet material ripped away. She didn’t care that they’d cost a small fortune or that they were her favorite pair because they made her feel sexy. At the moment she was only too happy to have them out of the way.
He set his hands on her knees and audibly inhaled. “Dammit, you smell good.” He roughly pushed her knees apart and lowered his head to cover her pussy with his mouth.
The heat from his intimate touch ignited little blazes all over her body. Her chest. Her cheeks. Deep inside. She dropped her head back, gritted her teeth and gripped the armrests of the chair. Releasing her knees, he lifted his hands to her pussy, parted her folds to expose her clit, which was tingly and sensitive already. Then he dragged his tongue over it in a slow, lazy swipe that made her cry out in agony.
Her vagina clenched closed around painful emptiness.
Just because he wanted to make her suffer—or so she gathered—he then proceeded to run his tongue round and round her clit. With each circle, the tension inside her body coiled tighter, pulling her insides into knots. Then, glory of all glories, he slid a thumb inside her vagina. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her urgent need to be filled, but it eased the agony a bit. He timed the inward thrusts of his finger with the swirls of his tongue. The two together nearly brought her to climax.
Then, just as her body prepared for the first spasm, he stopped.
Frustrated beyond words, she opened her eyes.
He was kneeling on all fours. His skin rippled, like something was crawling beneath it. Then it darkened to almost black. Not deep brown, but the pure black of a panther’s coat. He lifted his head back and let loose with a growl that sounded so foreign and animal-like she scrambled backward, tucking her legs under her bottom to get them out of his reach. Shaking, she wrapped her arms around herself.
What the hell?
There, as she watched, frozen by terror, a coat of brown fur sprang from his skin, covering his body. His limbs changed into four thick legs. His torso lengthened and thickened, his head elongated. A mouthful of sharp teeth sprang from his gums.
A…bear?
A moment later, she leaped backward and lunged for the gun lying forgotten on the floor. The bear smacked the weapon with its huge paw, sending it flying across the room. It struck the front of the stove with a metallic bang then fell to the carpeted floor. The bear’s gaze never left her as she scrambled backward until her spine was pressed against the far wall of the cabin.
What the hell? How had a man turned into a bear?
And then realization struck as she glanced down at the bear’s paws.
That had been the beast that had nearly ripped the door down. She’d inadvertently let it inside.
When it licked its black lips, raised up on its hind legs and took one, two, three steps toward her, she just knew she was a goner. The bear was so huge its head nearly hit the vaulted ceiling as it ambled toward her.
“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. Oh God!”
She’d never called herself a Christian but she decided right then and there it was time to pray.
Chapter Two
The pain.
Unbearable.
Excruciating. His muscles burned. His bones felt like they’d been shattered and glued back together. He was dizzy and confused. Still, one thing drove him. The excruciating hunger for the lush, soft woman cowering before him. He didn’t want to fuck her, he needed to fuck her. The compulsion threatened to take him over, completely. Just as it had earlier when he’d been lying in his bed at home and had caught a whiff of her scent.
That had been the first time he’d felt like this, the first time he’d changed into whatever beast he was now. It had surprised and confused him, both times.
Trying frantically to hold on to his humanity, which seemed to be fading quickly, he looked down. Thick brown fur covered his arms and hands. His fingernails had lengthened into long black claws. What was happening to him? This was impossible.
He looked at his woman. Her eyes. She was terrified. He could smell her fear. The scent was bitter, like burned coffee. It called to the beast, to the predator he had become.
He wanted to chase her.
He wanted to take her.
Abby knew it was futile, that nobody would hear her, but she screamed again. Mid-shriek, though, she realized that her reaction to the animal seemed to be making things a whole lot worse. The louder she screamed, the fiercer the animal’s stance, the more it bared its teeth and the louder it growled.
Somehow, she shut up, smacking her hand over her mouth to make sure she didn’t scream again. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hand, which was still firmly holding back another shriek by some miracle, shook so badly she struggled to keep it in place. But with her silence, the animal’s terrifying growling stopped.
In serious need of oxygen, she choked on a sob of relief and released her mouth to drag in a much-needed deep breath. Her eyes never left the huge animal standing on its hind legs in front of her. It sniffed the air, kind of shuffled back and forth.
It looked…confused.
To think a man lingered inside there somewhere. A man who seemed so normal and level headed. Right now, did the human being—or more specifically the conscience only humans possessed—rule the animal? Or did raw, untamed instinct rule the man? How could she know? She might be safe if it was the former.
And dead if it was the latter.
Her reactions mattered somehow. Why? Hadn’t she read that animals could sense a person’s fear? Was that it? Keeping her eyes on the animal, she consciously tried to slow her breathing, calm her nerves. It was close to impossible with an animal that big and potentially dangerous standing a few feet from her, but she knew she had no choice. More than any other time, she was grateful for the yoga she’d practiced for years. It seemed to be helping both of them. As she calmed, the bear tipped its head, regarding her like a puppy. Yes, it seemed to be true. Somehow t
he bear sensed her terror.
She closed her eyes and concentrated, willing her heart rate to slow. The fear to leave her.
Inside the animal lay hidden the heart and soul of a man. A man who she didn’t know, granted, but a man she’d sensed was not a cold-blooded killer. She rejected the fear. It would do her no good. A tentative peace took its place.
Blinking open her eyes, she checked to see what the bear was doing.
It was on all fours now, its head lowered, its gaze traveling over her. Had she discovered the key to taming the beast? Could it be so simple?
“It’s okay, Tarik. It’s okay,” she murmured in the most soothing voice she could muster.
His mind fought a battle with the blind instinct trying to take over. Caught in the middle of an inner war, Tarik backed away from the woman. She was so beautiful, her full breasts, curvy hips, softly rounded stomach and smooth thighs. His body, this strange new body, wanted to claim her. But what little remained of the man he had once been wouldn’t allow it. He sat back on his rump, raised his head and sniffed the air again. The bitter scent of her fear had faded.
Then she did what he hadn’t expected. Her gaze focused on his face, she slowly stood, lifted her hand and stepped forward, whispering comforting words as she walked. Like magic, her gentle touch released him from the beast’s grip. His roar of agony as the change reshaped his muscles and bones turned to a fading scream.
The room fell silent.
She visibly swallowed. Her eyes were wide as saucers. “Y-you changed. You’re back.”
He wanted to comfort her, to tell her it was okay. He wanted to protect her too. What would have happened if he’d lost the battle with the beast? What would he have done to her? “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“I’ll tell you what’s happening. You turned into a bear. Holy effing shit.”
“That’s impossible. People can’t change into animals. I know that for a fact. I study genetics for a living. There isn’t a genetic disorder known that causes animals to change into other species. It just doesn’t happen.”