Beauty Dates the Beast(37)
He crushed me against his chest and our mouths melded once more. We fell into bed together, all hands and hot, needing lips. I was all over him, and he reciprocated with hot bites of pleasure. His hand pulled my ponytail free, and my hair poured over both of us. He groaned hard, and I rubbed his erection through his slacks.
He ran his fingernails down the leg of my tights, and they split open.
“Claws.” He grinned and stroked my now-bare leg.
“I can smell you,” he growled against my neck, ripping the last of my tights off. His hand slid between them and he pressed over me, his weight exciting and heavy.
I unzipped his pants and pulled them down, my breath mingling with his in a hot melody. His hand slid under my knee, spreading my leg wide, then his weight settled between my legs, the head of his cock sliding along the wet heat of my apex.
I inhaled sharply, my nails digging into his buttocks.
He froze. “Bathsheba?”
I squirmed underneath him, bucking my hips against his erection. “If you stop now, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”
He chuckled as the head of his cock teased my entrance. “Can’t have that happen,” he whispered, and his cock slid home.
That delicious stretching feeling of him inside me filled my whole body. I gasped as he stroked into me again, and my hands pressed against the sides of his face, drawing him down for another kiss.
I raised my hips to meet his, and his chest brushed against mine, my nipples skimming his flesh as he pumped again, over and over. Faster and faster we collided, his body stroking against mine at just the right spot until I cried his name, and he exploded just after I did.
We collapsed together, my legs. still wrapped around his waist, quivering with aftershocks.
“Hell,” I muttered. So much for turning him away.
A smile curved his mouth. “Is this a breakup? Because if so, I think we’ve already kissed and made up.”
I punched his arm and tried to get up, but I was trapped under him. “Let me go.”
“Do you promise to stay here with me tonight?”
Grudgingly, I nodded, and he released me. I scooted over a few feet on the bed. “Where else would I go tonight?” The obvious answer was back to work, but I didn’t want to hear the third degree on my date with Jason. And if Giselle knew I’d seen Beau again, she’d flip out on me.
“Where else?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. You keep a lot of secrets.”
I ignored him and stared at the blank TV. In the reflection I could see my pale legs sprawled on the bed, and it reminded me of the corpses at the morgue. I shuddered, feeling chills skitter across my skin. “Who would want to eat those girls?”
Who would want to eat me?
“I think it’s a Wendigo. Or a pack of Wendigo.”
“A what?” I slid forward, and the sheets brushed against my sensitive spots. I blushed hard, a quiver rocketing through me again.
Beau turned to stare at me with hot, gold-green eyes and I blushed even harder, knowing what was going through his head. “Sorry, I slid wrong. You were saying? …”
“Wendigo,” he sat up on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, as if he was exhausted from the day.
I watched him with concern. In my mind, Beau was strong and tireless. Seeing the weariness settle around his eyes and mouth made me feel horrible for giving him so much trouble. I knelt behind him, placing my hands at the base of his neck and kneading the tight knot of muscles there.
Beau groaned with pleasure, tilting his head back and leaning into my hands.
It was a pleasure to stroke his neck and feel the fine hairs there, the soft skin behind his ears, the hard muscles below his collar. His shirt was in my way, so I leaned forward and unbuttoned it. “So tell me about the Wendigo.”
He sighed heavily. “They’re … cannibals.”
My hands paused, then pushed his shirt down his arms.
“Have you heard the Native American legends of the Wendigo?”
I kneaded his shoulders, soothing him. “No. What are they?”
“Some of the tribes believed that a man who ate the flesh of another man could steal his power. But if you did so, you became a Wendigo—a terrible creature that needs another creature’s flesh to survive. They smell foul, like the grave. They’re stronger than any other living creature, and thirst for blood.” He paused. “Those legends were mostly wrong. Only a shifter can turn Wendigo.”
“Oh.” I removed my hands so I could wring them in silence. “And of course, everyone we know is a shifter.”
He said nothing.
“Both of those girls at the morgue looked like me. So does this mean that someone’s going to try and eat … me?”
“They shouldn’t. You’re not a shifter.”
“So why are they going after me?”
“I don’t know,” he said darkly. “But I intend to find out.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, my cell phone woke me out of a sound sleep. My head was cushioned against Beau’s broad, warm chest, my legs tangled with his. On his nightstand, my cell phone buzzed, and Sara’s ringtone played.
I jerked up at the sound and winced when I realized my long hair was caught under his head.
He opened his eyes and smiled at me. “Good morning. Sleep well?”
I untangled my legs from his. “I don’t remember going to sleep at all,” I teased.
I wanted to slide underneath him and feel his heavy, wonderful weight over me. I wanted to burrow against his chest and let the world fall away.
As the phone continued to blare my sister’s ringtone, I sighed “I need to get that.”
He reached over and handed the phone to me.
I flipped open my cell phone. “Hey.”
“Hey, Bath!” she said, entirely too chirpy. “You took forever to answer. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t hear the blush in my voice. Beau pulled me back down against him and I squirmed away. “How are you? Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s good. Very quiet. We’ve mostly been playing on the computer. Ramsey’s terrible at it, but I think he keeps trying for my sake.” I could hear her munching on something—probably toast. “How about you? Are you keeping busy?”
I choked. “Uh … yeah, I’m—I’m fine.” A nervous laugh escaped my throat. “Just staying busy with work and all.”
“Mmmhmm.” She paused. “Beau’s right there, isn’t he?”
Oh, God, shoot me now. “No, he’s not. Whatever makes you think that?”
“You have this high-pitched squeak in your voice.” Munch munch. “And Ramsey told me that Beau was crazy about you. You like him, too, don’t you?”
Beau snorted and rubbed his foot against my calf. “I never used the word ‘crazy.’ ”
Of course Beau could hear everything Sara said. What could be more humiliating than that? “Nothing’s going on,” I said, even as Beau’s hand slid to my very naked behind and pinched it, making me squeak.
“Of course something’s going on. You’re dating him. You’re sleeping together.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” I said, stifling the moan that threatened when Beau’s fingers lightly danced along the inside of my thigh. “What’s going on?”
“So, uh, I don’t know how to break this to you,” Sara said slowly, and my heart dropped.
“What is it?” My mind automatically went to panic mode. If we left town tonight, we could still get away. Pack up under the cover of darkness …
“Ramsey knows,” she said.
“He knows what?” My heart pounded in my chest. Maybe we were talking about two different things.
“About the wolf thing?” Beau said lazily. “He’s always known.”
I stopped breathing. I couldn’t think. “I’ll call you back,” I said breathlessly to Sara, then hung up the phone. “What do you mean, you know? What wolf thing?”
“Your sister is the wolf the Anderson pack has been looking for,” he said, following me up the bed, a cat stalking its prey, as I shrank backward.
I was stunned. “How … how did you know?”
He shrugged. “Any shifter with a nose can tell as soon as she walks in the door. I kept smelling wolf on you and thought it was some sort of carryover from work, and when I met Sara it all clicked. That’s why Ramsey’s shadowing her—he’s going to keep her safe until we get Savannah back.”
Tears blurred in my eyes. I felt … I didn’t know how I felt. I was a volcano, ready to explode with rage. I was a balloon that had just been deflated. I repeated Beau’s words, still not comprehending. “He’s going to keep her safe?”