A Taste of Honey

by Ranae Rose

  A couple heads turned in Ronnie and Hargrove’s direction, but no remarks were made. There were a few other personnel inside the station, and Ronnie could practically read the thought going through their minds – Hargrove. One word that explained everything. Hargrove seemed to only possess an ‘outside voice’, and howling wasn’t exactly out of character.

  “Well, I hope you’ve been gettin’ some action at home,” Hargrove said, still grinning, “’cuz you missed all the action here this morning.”

  “What happened?” Ronnie asked, only half listening as he jotted a final signature down on the last form. Knowing Hargrove, a pretty tourist had probably wandered into the ranger station asking for directions, or something like that.

  “Someone killed a bear inside the park. Shot it three times and left the body by the edge of a hiking trail up on the mountain.” Hargrove hiked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing vaguely to the north. “Several dozen people heard the gunshots and some tourists stumbled upon the body as they were comin’ down the trail.”

  Ronnie’s heart leapt and sped, beginning a war-rhythm and beating it out against his ribs like his bones were drums. Bear down. The crackle of paper and a burst of moisture against his palm told him that he’d gripped his handful of paperwork too tightly. Lowering his gaze, he discovered that he’d snapped his pen right in half. The weak plastic had broken, spilling black ink all over his hand. Code orange.

  “Jesus, Sweetwater, your hands are like bear paws.”

  Ink trickled down his fingertips and dripped onto the desk. “Shot to death?” he asked, working hard to temper his voice so that his question didn’t come out half-growl.

  “Yeah. With a .45. Three bullets – one of them hit the heart and another punctured a lung. The other wasn’t as serious – hit the shoulder or something.”

  “And the bear is dead?”

  “As a doornail. It was a sow, but there aren’t any signs that she was nursing cubs. Nobody knows what happened yet.”

  Jesus. Hargrove’s profanity echoed inside Ronnie’s mind. He had to get back to the mountain – to his people, his bears, his tribe. And Violet. “Call me as soon as you’ve got an update.” He dropped his paperwork on the desk. The forms had been stained by spilled ink, but he didn’t have time to check if they were still legible.

  Hargrove’s voice was loud enough that Ronnie heard it, even over the sound of the door slamming shut behind him. “Don’t break your new girlfriend with those paws of yours, Sweetwater.”

  Chapter 3

  The stream was so clear that the rocks at the bottom were easily visible, rounded by years of submersion, some plain and some speckled. Could this be where Ronnie planned for them to fish?

  Violet scanned the water’s crystalline depths for anything larger than a minnow as she settled on the edge of a rock that jutted out over the bank. For a while, there was nothing. Then a shadow moved beneath the surface, much too quickly to have been caused by a swaying branch overhead. Something was in the stream, lurking under the edge of the rock. A trout, maybe? She lowered herself onto her belly and gripped the edge of the rock, peering straight down and straining to see underneath.

  The stone was so hard against her that it pushed the air out of her lungs and flattened her breasts. She breathed a little harder, her fingers curled around its edge as she waited for the shadow to reappear.

  Meanwhile, it was impossible not to think of how it might feel to lie against Ronnie, to feel his chest against hers, as hard as stone but warmer. For one fleeting moment, she almost thought she caught his scent in the air, a spicy sweetness that complemented the duller smells of autumn. Her nipples pricked against her clothing, against the rock, and her breasts ached. In fact, she ached from head to toe. For him – the bear whose scent screamed that he was meant for a wolf, for her. Could it really be so?

  Willing her whirling mind to slow down, she tried to absorb the coolness of the rock, hoping that it might chill her from the inside. She was getting ahead of herself – taking too much for granted. She and Ronnie might not be meant for each other. There was still the possibility that all of this might come to nothing. After all, so far ‘this’ was really just a handful of meetings, one impromptu date, a hundred pangs of longing and one persistent scent that she just couldn’t resist.

  He was a bear and they didn’t work the same way as wolves – not exactly. And the things she’d heard about how they identified their mates were blush-inducing, to say the least. Could Ronnie be thinking about them, about her in that way?

  Though the thought made her cheeks burn, it made her heart speed, too. There was no way around it – she’d just have to conquer her inhibitions and be ready to discover the truth, however, exactly, she and Ronnie might go about doing that. After all, he wouldn’t have invited her to spend the day alone with him if he didn’t feel at least a spark of attraction, of possibility, would he?

  And there was the distinct possibility that they were meant for each other, for an autumn afternoon like this, and that was enough of an incentive for her to put on a brave face, even if she did feel a little lost when it came to doing anything more than smiling in his direction.

  * * * * *

  “Code orange.” The words might sound like something out of a cheesy action movie, but Ronnie spoke them with complete sincerity, gripping his cell phone so tightly that he barely remembered to stop squeezing it in time to avoid breaking it like he had the pen. He’d developed a color-coded chart of threat-levels years ago and had made sure that everyone in the Roaring Water Tribe had memorized it. It was his responsibility to keep them safe and the code made it possible to convey something very specific with just two words. Code orange meant a suspected threat with a confirmed act of violence. There were only two more severe designations – red and black.

  The tribe had seen red a few weeks ago when shifter hunters had victimized the nearby Half Moon Pack. Black … just once, but that had been long before he’d developed the code.

  “Okay.” His grandmother’s voice echoed through the connection, a little distorted by the questionable reception the mountains caused, but steady enough and all-business as Ronnie gave the agreed-upon signal. “I’ll tell your grandfather right away.”

  “Call me as soon as you find out whether everyone is accounted for. I’ll answer if I can. If not, leave a message on my cell and my home phone. I may have to go out into the woods – I left Violet alone at my cabin and she said something about going for a walk.” His voice came out cool enough, but inside he was burning with the urge to find her, to know she was safe and to keep her that way. He’d already called her cell and his home phone and she hadn’t answered either one.

  He rounded a familiar corner and his heart leapt at the thought of home, the place where he’d left Violet. “I’m almost to my cabin. I’ll give you another call and fill you in as soon as I know she’s safe.”

  His heart kept time, marking each passing second with ferocious beats as he guided his truck off the road and into his driveway. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making them tingle and causing his throat to ache as he exited the cab and firmly closed its door. Maybe it was nothing – it was probably nothing – but it was his job to act as if it might be something and past experience had primed him for this moment, for any moment when it seemed danger might be threatening his tribe.

  Or his mate. He was too intent on his current mission to eschew the thought completely. Violet might not be his mate, but clearly his heart was convinced otherwise. Each heavy beat urged him to find her, to protect her and the longed-for possibility that she embodied. It was impossible to guard his heart or his hopes when he feared for her safety. Twisting the knob and walking through the unlocked front door, he called her name.

  No response.

  He strode quickly into the cabin and checked every room, even his bedroom. It was easy to imagine her there, but she was nowhere to be found. Upon returning to the kitchen, he found a full pot of coffee waiting, untouched. A quick
glance afforded him a glimpse of the worm container, still tucked behind the coffeemaker. Had he really been worried about it? If Violet felt anything like what he felt for her – if they were really meant to be mated – it would take a lot more than a container of earthworms to drive her away.

  He had to find her. The backdoor beckoned. He opened it, imagining her small hand closing around the knob after he’d left. She must have gone for a walk, like she’d mentioned. Why had he left her alone? He should’ve taken her along for the ride to the station, even if it would’ve meant her having to suffer through a meeting with Hargrove.

  Remaining a man was out of the question. He needed to be fast, strong and able to rely on his senses when they were at their best. Without sparing a thought for his clothing, he shifted. His flannel, t-shirt and jeans fluttered to the ground like soft confetti as he assumed his bear form. This way, he could find her quickly and defend her if necessary.

  It probably wouldn’t be necessary – a fact he kept reminding himself of as he entered the red, brown and gold shadowland of the forest and charged through, his heavy paws crushing small branches underfoot and compressing the dense carpet of fallen leaves that had accumulated over the past several months. He inhaled deeply as he ran, scenting the air for any trace of Violet. He’d grown accustomed to her clean, sweet fragrance and his heart leapt when it drifted to him on a breeze.

  He was huge, but his bulk didn’t slow him down. He wasn’t slow in his human form either, but never would’ve been able to race through the forest this way, dodging only the largest of obstacles and flattening all others in his path. Was this what it felt like to race to protect one’s mate? He’d done a lot of defending in the past but the urgency had never felt quite this potent, not even when he’d helped Jack and the rest of the Half Moon pack rescue Mandy when she’d been kidnapped.

  Each breath seared his lungs as he flattened saplings and leapt over boulders. If there really was a danger to bears lurking in the mountains, he was a sizeable, noisy target in his current form, but it didn’t matter. He felt buoyed by the importance of his mission, invincible because he had to be in order to protect Violet.

  When he found her, he almost trampled her. Stretched flat on a rock that hung over his favorite fishing stream, he didn’t see her until he was almost on top of her. He skidded to a violent halt, his claws tearing up the earth and sending it flying along with a spray of pebbles and colorful, papery leaves.

  Violet’s eyes went wide and she curled in on herself, protecting her vital organs by instinct as she threw up a hand in protest and toppled over the edge of the rock, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  A sound of regret tore its way out of Ronnie’s chest as he lunged forward, too late to help. By the time he landed on the edge of the rock, he was a man again and gripped its edge with an ink-stained hand as he threw his other arm out into open space, reaching for her. “Violet!”

  A wolf stared up at him from the stream, chocolate brown and shoulder-deep in running water. Even in her lupine form, her blue eyes were clearly recognizable and there was no mistaking the sweater that clung to her body, torn along most of its seams.

  For a moment, he simply stared, eyes locked with hers. She was a beautiful wolf but he couldn’t take her hand and lift her out of the water in this form.

  “Change,” he said, speaking loudly enough that his voice rumbled clearly over the sound of the stream. “I’ll lift you out.”

  She glanced first at the rocky little overhang he was stretched across, then at the steep, muddy bank on the other side of the stream. Apparently, he was the most appealing option. In the blink of an eye, she became a woman again.

  When she extended a hand, reaching for him, he took it and hoisted her up onto the rock. She was light as a feather, even in her dripping clothes – or what was left of them, anyway.

  Her sweater was loose enough that it hadn’t been completely destroyed during her transformation, but it had torn along most of its seams and now clung to her – just barely – displaying generous views of milky flesh and what looked like the tattered remains of a camisole. Her jeans had fared even worse and floated down the stream in a cluster of dark-blue denim ribbons as she gasped and looked up at him with wide, blue eyes.

  Until that moment, he hadn’t spared a thought for his nudity.

  Water glistened and fell from her lips in tiny drops as their gazes locked and he was suddenly aware of being naked in a way he’d never been before. It wasn’t just a state of being or simple lack of clothing; it was a temptation, a glorious absence of physical barriers between himself and her. The deep ache of desperate desire that had been driving his racing heart and surging through his veins, urging him to find her, finally made its way to his cock. He reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders, gripping her slender arms as a shiver wracked them. He was done waiting – he had to know, now, whether she really was the one.

  He pressed his mouth to hers, too eager to hold back. Her lips were soft and warm beneath the superficial chill her submersion had left them with and she smelled as crisp and clean as a mountain spring, the floral notes of her shampoo sweet highlights in her scent. As she parted her lips, his heart surged ahead and he pressed his tongue inside, past her teeth, in search of one thing – a taste of honey. Just a taste of honey, and she would be his forever.

  * * * * *

  Violet parted her lips wider as Ronnie slid his tongue past them, delving deep inside her mouth. Yielding to him was surprisingly natural; she could hardly spare a thought to wonder why this was happening now or bother to suppress the shivers of cold and surprise that were still coursing through her. It felt so good and so right to let his tongue fill her mouth, sliding against hers as his teeth dented her lips and a low growl rumbled in the pit of his chest, sparking a frisson that zipped down her spine, more violent than any of the trembling she’d experienced since emerging from the icy water.

  He gripped her arms a little more tightly, the pressure of his fingers wrapped so firmly around her flesh inciting an ache between her thighs.

  She leaned closer to him, testing his hold, until her breasts just touched his chest, their tips tingling beneath her disheveled layers of ruined clothing. A split second of contact was all it took for her to begin imagining more – his hands firmly grasping her breasts instead of her arms, his mouth trailing lower to taste them. Those ideas seemed like the most natural thoughts in the world now that their breath and bodies were mingling, their tongues entwined. She would have wished for the kiss to last forever if it hadn’t fueled her cravings for so much more.

  When he finally pulled away, she was breathless. Her lips tingled and stung as the cool air met them, so much less pleasant than the heat and force of his mouth. He maintained his grip on her arms though and it was the only thing that kept her from collapsing against his chest, soggy sweater and all. Sighing as her heart hammered away, she lowered her gaze and promptly stiffened in his grasp.

  Oh, God. She’d forgotten about him being naked.

  Maybe she should’ve diverted her gaze or looked him in the eye again, but she couldn’t. Her attention had already been captured by the sight of his bare body. His muscled hips and thighs glistened faintly with dampness, crisscrossed with rivulets of moisture that must have dripped from her body and clothing. Dark fuzz was lightly dusted across skin that was a little less bronze than his face and arms. The hair grew thicker at his groin, but not as thick as his erection, which jutted in her direction as if reaching for her.

  Her core tightened as she stared and Ronnie gripped her a little more snugly. Still, she didn’t look up. At least, not for a few more moments, during which her fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and touch the hard length of his shaft, the smooth roundness of the head of his cock. The kiss had melted away most of her inhibitions and filled her with an unexplainable, instinctive confidence that a bear and a wolf could be meant for each other. She laid a hand on his thigh as she raised her gaze.

  The hair o
n his leg tickled her fingertips, softer and finer than she’d imagined it being.

  “Violet.” His voice was thick and rough, as if he’d begun to swallow a spoonful of honey but wasn’t quite finished yet.

  “Ronnie?” Her own voice came out a little rougher than usual too, but at least she didn’t feel the urge to giggle. In fact, as she met his dark eyes, the look reflected in them quelled the uncertainty that had plagued her before the kiss they’d shared just moments ago. She no longer felt like laughing or diverting her gaze. She just wanted to look into the eyes of the man who’d set her body on fire, who looked like he wanted her, too. Still, inexperience leant an edge of nervousness to her newfound boldness. She stroked the top of his thigh gently, letting her fingers glide through the soft down that grew there.

  Another shiver shot through her, making her hand falter, turning her sensual stroke into an unsteady jerk that caused her fingertips to graze the soft skin of his balls.

  He sucked in a breath and exhaled with a sound that could have been described as a growl as she retracted her hand instinctively.

  A fresh wave of heat washed over her, brought on by the simple, accidental contact.

  “You’re freezing,” he said, and stood in one quick motion, using his hold on her to bring her to her feet too. “Come on – we need to get you back to the cabin.”

  Her lips were still burning from contact with his and no words came to mind. When she realized that standing had left even less space than before between their bodies and that his cock was still stretching toward her, just a few inches away from brushing her belly, she was rendered absolutely mute. Heat blossomed across her entire body, fighting the chill that her fall into the stream had left her with.

  His dark eyes dipped below and his mouth quirked slightly as his thoughts presumably took the same turn hers just had. “I’ll shift,” he said.