Bring On the Heat

by Eden Bradley

  Scott stared at Calla’s upturned face. Her eyelids were partially closed and a fine sheen of sweat dotted her forehead. He wasn’t sure he really saw a flash of reddish-purple encircling her enlarged pupils.

  Her strawberry lips parted, her breathing turning into gasping pants. Sexuality rolled from her in waves. His body tensed, muscles tightening as his cock hardened.

  His hand on her arm twitched as her skin became hot. Burning. “Are you all right?” Scott tried to let go, but their skin seemed fused.

  Fire and lightning, a mix of pain and rampant lust, spread through his body, sending every nerve zinging. He pictured plunging into the wet heat of this woman.

  She whimpered, her breathing fast, and plastered her soft, curvy body to his, rubbing against him like a cat.

  Her hands roamed his sides. Her breasts pushed at his chest, nipples hard peaks. It took all his control not to drag her to the ground and fuck her.

  He tried to think. To control the rampaging lust stomping all over the word caution. Everything else disappeared—the sounds of the band inside the bar, of the insects in the forest—until only the two of them remained. His skin heated where her soft hands ran over his chest, down his thighs, up his hips. His cock pounded every time she came close, but the woman teasingly stayed away from his crotch.

  Her nails finally traced the bulge straining at his jeans. Suddenly, he was able to let go of her arm. Scott fought to step back from the flushed woman who’d changed from a queen of ice to a fire nymph.

  “What—” he began.

  “Love me,” she whispered, her voice husky, raw. She grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and yanked his head down.

  Her soft, warm lips pressed to his. He groaned as the object of his fantasies freely offered herself to him. Her tongue slid into his mouth, tracing his teeth. He pushed back, kissing her with barely restrained passion. She nipped his tongue, drawing it out and sucking.

  Her taste, a combination of Smokey’s whiskey-beer and vanilla, filled him, stoking his desire. Her scent, cherries, curled into his nostrils with every heavy breath he took.

  Control almost shot, Scott’s cock strained against his jeans. He wanted to rip their clothes away and plunge into her heat. Her lithe body bumped against him, her legs sliding between his as she rubbed along his pulsing cock.

  It wasn’t every day a beautiful woman threw herself at him. Just how much had she drank? The thought helped him to find some tiny bit of control. It took every last ounce he could summon, but Scott grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back a little. “Honey, wait. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  She growled deep in her throat and fisted her hands in his T-shirt, then ripped it down the front. Her hands ran over his chest, a finger flicking one of his nipples. One hand slid to his pants and gripped his cock through the jeans.

  Pure electric shocks hit him. He was gonna lose it. Not that he wanted her to stop, but she’d be pissed in the morning. “Calla, we need to—”

  “Fuck me.” Her voice was throaty, animalistic. Calla jerked the button of his jeans undone, then reached for the zipper. She pulled his cock from his boxers and stepped back.

  He almost moaned in despair.

  Calla leaned over, her breath tickling his skin. Her hot little tongue darted out, encircling the head of his cock, enveloping him in wet heat. The woman sucked deep. Beyond normal lust, beyond control, primal urges seized him, unwilling to be denied any longer.

  ~ * ~

  Magic and fire. They burned. Burned deep inside. A combination of pleasure and pain, of urges too powerful to deny.

  The springy hairs on his balls tickled Calla’s palm as she rolled them between her fingers. His cock twitched. Slowly easing her lips over his tip, she licked down the length, paying special attention to the ridge on the underside, loving the way the velvety hardness pulsed beneath her tongue.

  Scott groaned, his hands delving into her hair. Distantly, she felt a clip come out. Her hair spilled forward and she peeked up at him. Scott’s head was thrown back, his pecs and arms bunched.

  Pushing her hair out of the way, she sucked his dick, drawing it deep into her mouth, teasing with teeth and hands, licking with her tongue. His smoothness tasted salty, musky. Needing to touch more of him, she pushed the jeans down his narrow hips and grabbed his ass. His cheeks were smooth, flexing beneath her grip.

  Scott jerked her to her feet. She stared at this man whose touch made her burn beneath the moonlight. In her haze, one thought floated through her mind. The mating fire would not have begun if he was truly, completely, human.

  The fire took control once more and she happily gave into its demands. It was the nature of her beast. They were one in their desire. “Fuck me now,” she demanded.

  With a low growl, Scott backed her to the wall. He jerked her jacket off, then tugged her shirt over her head. Cool air brushed her sweaty skin, catching her between fire and ice. His abrupt movements, full of controlled passion, made her feel small. Not weak, but dominated. As if she didn’t need to stay in control and make sure everything came out perfectly.

  His heated mouth traced her shoulder as he yanked at her bra strap. Then it was gone and his flexing pecs pressed into her chest, the dusting of hair rasping against her sensitive nipples.

  A whimper escaped as she rubbed against him, feeling skin on skin, heat on heat. He ran his hands down her sides, hips, to her thighs. Pushing her skirt up, his mouth descended on hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth.

  He slid his fingertips along the top of her thigh-highs, tickling her skin as he eased her skirt higher. Then they were on the scrap of panties she wore, teasing through the thin, lacey material.

  She groaned, head falling back against the wooden wall. His tongue licked down her throat as his fingers rubbed against her aching clit in tight, hard circles.

  Flashes popped beneath her eyelids. “Yes. Harder,” she whispered huskily.

  His hand delved beneath her panties and the cloth ripped. His tongue traced over the top of one breast, licking up her neck and pushing inside her mouth.

  With his other hand, he kneaded a breast, rolling her tight nipple between his fingers. Then his mouth was gone, to suck her breast, taking a mouthful, his tongue playing with her nipple.

  His dick slipped against her wet pussy. Unable to wait any longer, Calla wrapped her fingers around him, guiding him to her entrance. She pushed her hips to meet his thrust.

  Velvety heat drove into her. Further. Deeper. All consuming. Her moans joined his pleasured groan. His scent, his taste, his body rubbing and grinding against her own. They fit together. Perfectly.

  Slowly, teasingly, he drew out, his hand moving down to her clit. Then he slammed his cock deep inside, his tongue plunging into her mouth at the same time, demanding she take him all.

  Her hips jerked in time to his, rocking and pounding. She grabbed his ass, raking her nails across his skin, pleased when he shuddered.

  Wanting more, she pulled him to her, hard, fast.

  He groaned, nibbling her shoulder and neck. Moving up her jaw and to her lips, Scott kissed her with such intensity she almost came just from the act. But the fire inside her was more demanding. It wanted complete fulfillment. Needed it.

  The pleasure spreading through her nearly drove her crazy. She ran her hands over the smooth skin of his back, pressing her breasts against his chest, biting his shoulder.

  He shouted, from pain or pleasure, she didn’t know.

  The pressure built, his slickness moving in and out, his thumb grinding her clit. Whimpers grew louder, escaping on her heavy pants. He licked her skin wherever he could reach.

  As the orgasm approached, she jerked him harder, urging him on with hands and hips. He slammed into her, moaning each time their sweat-slicked bodies hit.

  He plastered her to the wall. She barely noticed the tiny pinpricks across her back.

  Every inch of her skin sang with sensitivity. Everywhere he touched her built the orgasm until she w
rithed in his arms.

  Then it hit. Spasms wracked her, the exquisite pleasure spreading all the way to her curling toes. She screamed, biting his chest.

  Wave after wave crashed, keeping her high on the peak. Still he fucked her. And still she came, her pussy clenching around him. His harsh cry filled her ears, vibrating against her neck. His mouth bore down, sucking at her skin, his dick pulsing as the heat of his come spilled into her.

  He leaned against her, crushing her close. She loved it. Didn’t want to move. Didn’t know if she could.

  Their heavy breathing combined in the still night air. Then, slowly, sounds of life came back—music inside the bar, cars in the parking lot. A dog barking far away.

  Scott straightened, his eyes no longer a mix of gray, but a dark emerald. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  Calla could only look at him, her heart still racing, her body trembling at all he’d made her feel. She didn’t know what to say. Hey, there. Guess what? My mating just began. With you.

  Not about to happen.

  Luckily, there wasn’t a chance of pregnancy. Not until they sealed the mating. Destiny would not allow it. But it begged the question—what the hell was he?

  Scott slid away and pulled his pants up, then bent down and got her clothes, handing them to her without quite meeting her gaze.

  Did one apologize to a man for jumping him? Keeping her mouth shut, she tugged down her skirt and put on her shirt, moaning when it snagged something painful on her back. Scott turned her around then bit out a curse.

  “You have splinters.” He pulled her out to the parking lot and helped her into his truck. “Where are you staying?”

  “Don’t know. I was planning on checking in at a local motel or something.”

  Scott scowled. “The nearest place is all the way out in Payson.”

  Calla nibbled her lip.

  “Shit.” Scott put the truck into gear and left the bar, driving back toward town.

  ~ * ~

  FOUR

  The drive was tense, silent. The scent of sex lingered heavy in the air, leaving Calla semi-aroused and wanting more. Sometimes her keener-than-human senses could be a pain in the ass.

  Scott passed the fire station and Calla started to ask why, but he glared at her. After another ten minutes, they were once more out of town.

  “Where—”

  “Just be quiet,” Scott growled.

  Well, hell. He wasn’t much for sweet-talking after sex, was he?

  A few minutes later, Scott turned onto a gravel drive leading to a rambling, two-story house. No lights shone, enhancing the sad feeling of emptiness. Scott stopped the truck in front of the wide porch and came around to open her door.

  His gaze seemed to penetrate her skin, as if he was searching for her deepest secrets. Maybe she should apologize. “Scott, I—”

  “We need to get your back taken care of,” he stated, matter-of-fact.

  Damn, he was one touchy male. She followed him up the steps and in through the unlocked door. He flipped lights on as he led her through the house, but she didn’t get a chance to see much of anything. Then they were in a large bathroom, the walls blues and browns and whites.

  Scott pointed to the toilet. “Sit down and lift your shirt.”

  She sat on the lid with her back to him, once more overpowered by his commanding presence. And turned on by it.

  She hated taking orders, refused most of them. But this man seemed to be able to push through the cracks and make her enjoy it.

  His intake of breath warned her it was bad. As if the spreading ache across her skin wasn’t enough.

  “This is going to hurt.”

  “Just do it,” she replied, gritting her teeth.

  Cold metal touched her skin, then a jerk, a sharp pain, and relief in one spot. By the time he finished, Scott had removed over fifteen splinters from her back. Mirth filled her. It was a wonder she hadn’t felt the pain earlier. Did such great sex really make one so mindless? Repressing a snort, she answered her own question. Obviously.

  He applied something cold and creamy, then tapped her shoulder. “Done.”

  She turned as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet, putting tweezers and antibiotic ointment away, taking far longer than he needed.

  Working up the nerve, she hesitantly asked, “Do I owe you an apology?”

  Scott jerked around to face her, his eyes wide, mouth gaping open. “Hell, no.” He raised a brow, his mouth twitching at the corner. “Do I owe you one?”

  “No.”

  He sighed in relief. Calla couldn’t help a giggle. That’s why he’d been cranky? He’d thought…

  Scott took her hand and helped her to her feet. Then he leaned closer, whispering across her ear, “Where are you staying tonight?”

  As the fire roared inside her once more, she replied, “Here.”

  ~ * ~

  Calla woke to sunshine. A warm male lay pressed to her side, one leg thrown across hers. Scott’s face relaxed in sleep, making him look younger. His blond hair stuck out crazily.

  Flashes of all they’d done during the night made the heat of a blush crawl up her face. She’d been out of control, wrenched from humanity to a primitive, animalistic state she’d never experienced before. But she knew exactly what it meant. When times had been happier, her parents loved retelling the story of their mating. Destiny, her mother used to say, could never be diverted or denied.

  Scott stirred, eyelids flickering. Calla resisted the urge to brush the hair from his forehead. Instead, she slid out of bed and almost ran to the bathroom. After showering, she crept back to his room for her clothes. Scott jerked up in bed as soon as a floorboard creaked beneath her feet. He eyed her sleepily, a sensuous, kissable smile on his lips.

  “Morn.” His husky voice spread desire through her once more.

  “Morning,” she mumbled, digging her bra out from under his pants. Quickly dressing, she sat down on the foot of the bed, then stared him straight in the eye. “Look. I don’t usually jump into bed with someone I’ve just met.”

  He met her gaze steadily. “Neither do I.”

  Calla repressed a snort of disbelief. “Sure.”

  His chin jerked. “Lady, it wasn’t me running my hands all over your body while you tried to stop it.”

  The heat constantly rushing to her cheeks around him made her feel like some young girl experiencing her first crush. “Maybe not at first,” she snapped.

  Scott jumped out of bed, standing tall. And naked. She tried not to look as glorious memories of all he’d done to her during the night flashed through her mind. It was all she could do to resist pushing him back onto the covers and nibbling her way along his taut, muscled body. Trying to find the tattered cloth of professionalism, she blinked a few times.

  “I need to get to my truck for some clean clothes, then I need to work,” she said.

  Scott’s eyes slid partially closed, his greenish gaze assessing. “Give me ten minutes.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly, leaving the room to wait on the front porch.

  Calla sat on the swing, pushing to rock just a bit. She heard Scott moving around the house, the creak of pipes as he showered. She locked her knees and clasped her hands, forcing herself to stay outside, rather than join him.

  The burning had been satisfied, and was now only a dim warmth deep inside her. Yet she still wanted him with an almost uncontrollable urgency. It didn’t matter. There was a job to do. It didn’t matter everything was completely complicated—more so than she’d ever expected.

  But how?

  Scott seemed human. While sometimes the burning happened between one of her kind and a mortal, it was so rare as to be considered a myth. Besides, only two supernatural creatures could produce such an intense burn beneath the moonlight.

  Calla had to wonder about that, and the Other. Both here in this tiny town. Had Eric somehow known her destined mate lived in this small town?

  Not possible.

&n
bsp; The only way a shifter knew their mate was in a touch beneath the moonlight. She hadn’t even been actively looking. Scott’s face flitted through her mind. A playboy. A clown. She’d hoped for someone more… steady. Serious and dependable. Someone like herself.

  Again her mother’s voice ran through her head, saying destiny was destiny. Calla’s eyes burned, thinking about the woman.

  She could walk away and ignore this connection with Scott. Nothing permanent would come of it. This playboy was so not the man for her. She dug in her bag and pulled out her cell phone, then punched in the first five numbers to her eldest brother. He’d come and take over for her. All she needed to do was tell him about Eric. As a magical bounty hunter, Garreth’s job was finding those like Eric and bringing them to the council for trial.

  Her finger hovered over the next number. Was she a coward? She didn’t think so, but if she ran now…

  Calla snapped the phone shut and dropped it in her bag. The desire surging inside her wouldn’t go away if she left. It didn’t matter to the burning inside if they were compatible. To destiny, it only mattered they could successfully have children. Some couples fulfilled the burn, even though they couldn’t stand each other. Once a child was conceived, they went their separate ways.

  It was no way for a child to be raised, knowing their parents hated each other. It was no way for a woman to live—a life devoid of love and affection from a man.

  Yet, leaving now smacked of weakness.

  So she’d give it a few days. Do her job. And she’d keep her emotions guarded. Scott wasn’t the man for her, regardless of what stupid destiny thought.

  Besides, if she left now, she’d forever regret not facing Eric. The bastard deserved to pay for all he’d done—before he did more damage to her family or anyone else.

  ~ * ~

  Scott spent a few extra minutes in the icy shower trying to calm his aching balls. He’d woken from the most incredible night of his life to find Calla gone, only the scrap of lacy undershirt and the lingering scent of cherries remaining. Panic came swiftly, a punch to his chest, until he heard her moving around the bathroom.