Bear Meets Girl (Pride #7)(36)

“But then wouldn’t you be Mr. Crushek? Or I’d be Mr. Novikov?”
The pair stared at each other until Novikov said, “That was a really bear moment.”
“Yeah. It really was. Sorry.” Unable not to ask the question, though ... “So you shoved a Zamboni at your teammate?” Crush had no idea how much those things weighed, but they were motor vehicles designed to keep the ice on a rink smooth. And since there were few motorized work vehicles that were light, he’d guess there was much poundage involved.
“He annoyed me.”
“Okay.”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal, but then your girlfriend told Blayne.”
“My ... my what?”
“Malone. Your girlfriend, right?”
“She’s not—”
“She always goes for the jugular, that female. She’s lucky she’s a good player.”
“Or you’d throw a Zamboni at her?”
“Nah. Wouldn’t be right. She’s a woman. I was raised better than that.” There was silence for several moments while Novikov finished looking over the menu and placed it on the table. “I did, however, toss her out a five-story window once into a Dumpster, but she’s feline. She cleared the Dumpster and totally landed on her feet. So you wanna stay and have lunch with me or what?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After spending the week chasing down drug-dealing bears and tips on Whitlan, Crush was grateful when the weekend came and he had a whole Saturday to sit at home with Lola, relax, and watch the Islanders game. It was still early and he had no intention of getting up for several more hours, when he heard the purring. No. That wasn’t right. He didn’t hear purring. He felt it. All over his body. And wow! That was kind of amazing. So amazing, he woke up. Unfortunately, as soon as he woke up the wonderful spell was broken and he was forced to face the reality that his house had been broken into—again. 
“Why are you here, Malone?” he asked, even as he reached for her.
“We had a date.”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Ice Party. You’re supposed to come with me as my date.”
“But I specifically told you no.”
“That was before you kissed me.”
“You kissed me. Besides, Islanders game today.”
“You’re saying I am less important than the Islanders?”
“Yes.”
She stroked a finger across his chin. “I think you’re lying,” she purred. “I think you’re absolutely fascinated with me and you’re dying to go to the party.”
“Look, I’m sure there are a lot of guys out there who haven’t gotten to know you who would be really glad to—oh, God, please stop doing that.”
She was licking and grazing her teeth against his jaw, making Crush’s toes curl, his hands clench. But he had to fight it.
But she’d started purring again, her hands sliding up his arms, gripping his shoulders, and her hips rocking back and forth against him. They weren’t even naked! She was fully dressed and Crush had on his sweatpants. And yet he felt like he might come at any second.
Deciding he needed control, he grabbed Malone’s arms and rolled her onto her back. But, Crush quickly realized that only made things worse. Because now he had her right where he really wanted her. On her back, his cock between her legs.
Pinning her to the bed, both of them panting and gaping at each other, Crush was moments from pawing off her clothes with his claws. And the way her fingers tightened on his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist, he got the feeling she really wouldn’t mind.
But before Crush could do anything, a male voice from downstairs bellowed, “Celly! Let’s go!”
“Who’s that?”
“My brother. He drove me here.”
“Your brother is in my house and you’re ...”
“Rubbin’ up on ya? Yeah.”
“And I could totally hear it!”
Malone cringed and yelled, “Shut up, Tommy!” She let out a breath, looked back at Crush. “I didn’t bring him in. I swear. He just—”
“Broke in? Like you?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Crush released the feline and rolled away from her. “Out.”
“Okay, fine.” She sat up. “Don’t come. But my Aunt Deirdre swung at me earlier today.”
Confused, Crush lifted his hands. He felt like he was praying for guidance. “Why is your elderly aunt swinging at you?”
“Because I’m not afraid to tell her that her soda bread sucks.”
“It totally sucks,” Tommy agreed from the first floor.
Ignoring the male cat, Crush asked, “Still, it seems a little overly aggressive. Are you sure she doesn’t have dementia of some kind?”
“No. She just doesn’t like me.”
“I’m not sure I like you.”
The feline slowly got to her knees in front of him and slipped one arm around his neck.
“Do not kiss me,” he told her. But she did it anyway. And before Crush could stop himself, he had his arms around her and her body pulled close to his. They nearly had each other’s pants off when her idiot brother yelled, “Are you two at it again?”
Malone pulled away first and quickly got off the bed.“You want to come with us?”
“I haven’t showered or anything and I need to take care of Lola and—” Crush frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Pouting. Until I get what I want.”
“Dude! Just tell her you’ll meet us there,” Tommy yelled.
“Yeah, but—”
“Dude!”
“All right!” he roared back, and the male tiger laughed at him. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Promise? Because I know you. You won’t break a promise. So promise me.”
“Fine. I promise. I’ll be there.”
“I’ll text you the coordinates so you can find it.”
“Can’t you just give me—?”
“We’re trying to keep out the riffraff so we have it in the middle of nowhere. You’ll need coordinates.” She stretched across the bed and kissed him again. “I’ll see you there.”
Crush fell back on the bed and again wondered what he’d gotten himself into with this crazy feline.
Cella got in the SUV with her brothers. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Where’s the bear?” Liam asked.
“He’ll meet us there.”
“So he’s dumping you already?”
Cella let out a breath. “No. He’s not dumping me.”
“Because I think you should go for the RV dealer in A.C.”
“He’s a cousin, you idiot!”
“What is the deal with you and all these rules?”
Cella made a fist and turned, but Tommy, who was in the driver’s seat, caught her hand. “Would you two cut it out? I’m not going to have all this fuckin’ arguing all the way to the party! Now everybody face forward and be quiet!”
All the siblings faced forward and were quiet—for about five minutes. Then they argued all the way to the party.
Crush followed the directions his GPS gave him based on the coordinates provided by Malone. He ended up in Macon River County. One of the vacation places that only shifters knew about. There were quite a few of these, but Crush had heard a lot about Macon River because it was very bear-friendly. Some places were bear-friendly, some places bear-only, and some places simply didn’t like to have bears around at all. Of course, that was usually anyplace with a lot of wolves, coyotes, or mountain lions. Other cats and wild dogs had more tolerance, but didn’t get too close to bears, either. And wherever there were bears, there were foxes somewhere—stealing shit.
When Crush finally hit the end of the directions, he parked his truck beside a bunch of other trucks, SUVs, vans, and Hummers. Vehicles big enough for all sorts of bears. 
He stepped out and looked around. Beautiful country that no rational human beings would be wandering around with close to zero degree temperatures and hard-packed snow and ice on the ground and covering the trees. Although for Crush, it was kind of pleasant.
He started walking, hearing music off in the distance. He didn’t know what he expected with it so cold out. Maybe the Malones would have a little barbeque. Seemed weird in the middle of an East Coast winter ...
Crush stopped at the top of the rise, gazing out over the area beneath.
During Crush’s time in undercover, he’d gone to more than a few outdoor raves. How could he not? The best drug dealers always showed up to those things. Either to sell or party, but they were there. But those raves clearly had nothing on this.
The first thing Crush could see was the giant dance floor packed with partially dressed shifters. Polar bears, Arctic foxes and wolves, Siberian tigers, snow leopards. Grizzlies and black bears, too, probably from Kamchatka, tough Russian country. Dressed in shorts, T-shirts, fur bikinis, flip-flops, they writhed on the dance floor to what sounded like Caribbean tech music.
A musk oxen—where the hell did they find a musk oxen?—ran behind Crush, two tigers and a leopard chasing him down. Farther down in the trees, Crush could see two polars fighting over a seal. When he looked down and to his left, he could see an ice lake through the trees and a rough hockey game going on.
And when he looked right next to him, Crush could see an Eskimo. Okay. Not really an Eskimo, but Blayne Thorpe dressed in the biggest, warmest parka zipped so high he couldn’t see her mouth, the hood pulled down so low over her forehead, he could barely see her sunglass-covered eyes. Big mittens on her hands, big ski boots on her feet. Honestly, he only recognized her because of her scent.