Etienne (The Shifters of Shotgun Row Book 1)(21)

“What’s the deal with bears around here?”

“What do you mean?” A knowing rush of blood sprang to my face and caused my heart to beat overtime.

“Everyone keeps hinting about bears and beasts or some crud. It’s weird. Are there a lot of bears around here or something?”

“Yeah. More than you would think. Who has been talking to you about bears?”

Without warning, that look of spacing out came over her face again. “Um, just people. I can’t remember their names.”

I took enough steps toward her to close the distance. She was almost shaking. I felt the apprehension all around her. “If you have questions about bears or anything else that goes bump in the night, you come see me. Understood?”

I hadn’t meant to be so firm, but if anyone was going to tell Tansy about shifters it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be that overgrown honey-eating mu-fucker. It would be me.

“I-I will,” she stuttered before squaring off her shoulders and starting to walk again. In silence, we reached her home. She let us in, and I watched as she fed the bugs to the little shit lizard one by one, like he was a baby bird.

“You like him?” I asked.

“He’s good when he actually stays in his cage.”

I moved closer to her. “So, you only like beasts when they stay in their cages?”

“No.” Her heart thrummed over every other noise in the room, making mine keep time with hers. “Just this one. I have a feeling you can be a beast when you want to, though.”

No. Fucking. Clue.

“I can. But only when I want to. Only when I need to.”

The sound of her swallowing made my stomach tighten. She was nervous around me, but nervousness wasn’t what permeated her smell. It was desire, pure and passionate.

I couldn’t help what happened next.

And Tansy didn’t want me to.

Before I could be a gentleman, my animal instincts took over, and I grabbed the back of her thighs and shoved her against the nearest wall. Her thick legs wrapped around my waist while her hips rocked, begging for something I wasn’t ready to give—yet. My mouth covered hers, hot and furious, starving for everything she was willing to give me in that moment. She didn’t hesitate—didn’t shut me out for a second. Her lips were pliant and willing as we allowed the passion to take over.

She was one hell of a kisser, but I needed to give her something that would make ole Bruno keep his distance.

Far. The. Fuck. Away.

I made sure my hands covered every inch of skin revealed when her dress rose, and I made sure my lips covered every part of her neck from her earlobes to her collarbones, wishing like hell I could go further. My scent should be on her enough for the big bear to get the message. She was mine.

But Tansy had to know who and what I was before this could go any further.





Tansy

“The bear is watching you,” the ghost slurred.

My body froze. One little sentence effectively sucked all of the yummy goodness from the kiss and left me stiff as a board.

“Too much?” Etienne pulled back slightly while attempting to let me down, something I was far from ready for. I squeezed my legs tight, my arms not loosening.

“No,” I reassured, kissing him quickly on the cheek as I tried to be all stealth, looking for either the ghost or the bear, oh so grateful the man who was holding me was packing more than the pressure I was feeling pressed against my belly.

“Then what is it?” he asked, tilting my chin so my eyes were focused back on his. I was messing all things up in a ginormous way. Arggggg.

“I think I heard a bear.” I heard mention of a bear, and there probably was a bear, so the lie slipped out easily.

“Tell me the truth, Tansy.”

Easily, but without effectiveness, it would seem.

“There’s no one here but you and me, and I can taste your lie. If you don’t tell me what went wrong, it will be bound to happen again.”

Stinks. I thought it was about him, the kiss. The amazingly perfect, toe-curling, I-want-to-do-it-again-and-again kiss. My head fell back and would’ve hit the wall behind us if not for Etienne’s hand magically appearing behind it. Tough, strong, crass, gentle, smexy man. He was so many things, and I repaid him with what? A lie.

“Fine. I didn’t hear a bear, but a bear is watching us.” Or was. Why had the ghost drifted away so quickly when I actually needed him?

“And how would you know this?” He believed me, his words not questioning my truth, but information seeking. He knew something, but could I let him know everything? It’d be easy enough to say I just did, and mosey on my way. Not easy, per se, but I could do it and without lying again. A part of me wanted to, to have more than the dead folks I see and talk to knowing I can do exactly that. Pushing gently on his shoulders, I indicated I needed down, and as I eased to the ground, I grabbed his hand, needing him to know it wasn’t a rejection. That this was somehow more important.

“I sometimes know things,” I confessed, holding his gaze the entire time.

“You are precognizant?”

“Not exactly. More like I hear things.” I was doing it wrong. I knew this, my head anyway, but my heart feared his rejection and blurting out, I see and have convos with dead folk seemed like it would lend itself to exactly that. Rejection. Or a referral to a doctor.