This was real.
He growled low and lifted his mouth. "Tell me you want this."
Her eyelids opened, but her eyes remained unfocused. Her chest moved against his with each hard breath. A tremble took her, and he felt the full roll against his body. His entire body.
Using his hold on her head, he moved her closer into him, his cock nearly punching through his jeans as it rubbed against her.
Her eyes widened.
His dick hardened even more.
The primal need to take snaked through him, clawing with demand. His nostrils flared, and he inhaled her scent. Woman, roses, and arousal. Sweet and edgy . . . an addictive smell. "Nessa?"
She swallowed. "Wait a minute. I, ah-"
He was too aroused to grin, but he came close. The woman was beyond adorable, all mussed up and confused. "I normally don't like witches," he whispered, his gaze dropping to her slightly swollen lips. He groaned. What she could do with those.
"Y-you don't?"
"No." He could see her pulse hammering in her neck. "Too many secrets and long-held intrigue." He shuddered. "But you're different."
Did she wince? He focused on her entire face, but only curiosity and need crossed her expression. "I am?" she asked.
He nodded. The woman had let her hair down and partied with some serious partiers. Then she'd jumped into action to rescue a human she'd just met. "Yes. You're not like most witches." There was an honesty to her, a clear sense of motivation, that most of those lying jerks didn't have. Oh, he still didn't want to mate a witch. But this one? This one he liked. "I was thinking that while you're here healing me and organizing everything to your heart's content, why not have some fun?"
"By, ah, making love?"
He barely kept from grimacing. "Not exactly."
She huffed out a breath. "Fine. Then by having sexual intercourse."
The words were said like she was reading from a health manual, but they still heated him right up. "Fucking."
Her blush rose from her chest to her face. He tugged on her shirt and tried to look down it.
She slapped his hand. "What are you doing?"
"Seeing if that blush goes all the way down." He couldn't see. It was too dark. "How about you take this off?"
A sharp rap sounded on his door. "Bear?" Lucas called.
"Damn it." Bear released the woman and stomped over to yank the door open. "I might have to kill you, Luke."
Lucas brushed wet hair away from his forehead. "Guards called in. We have two dead near the main road."
Chapter 7
"I really need to return to the hotel for my clothes," Nessa said, once again on Bear's lap in the four-wheeler. She was wearing Bear's ripped gray sweats rolled up way too many times, a huge sweatshirt, and a pair of his thick socks. The idea of putting her feet back into those heels had almost made her cry.
He set a baseball cap on her head, protecting her from the wind and rain. "You don't have to come."
"I may be able to help if they're not dead," she said quietly.
"They're dead," Lucas said, increasing speed. "Humans with burn marks around their mouths, noses, and ears. Oh, and hands."
Bear growled. "How the hell do we have people taking Apollo on our property? I banned the drug a year ago."
"I don't know," Lucas snapped. "With the human prospects, we've had a new group of folks in and out for parties."
"Why are there humans here at all?" Nessa asked.
Bear nodded, his chin bumping her head. "Good question."
"Money," Lucas said simply. "Our accounts are frozen, and we need income. The five prospects are excellent mechanics, and they're bringing in a good income. I had to make them prospects to gain their agreement."
"What about Lars, Brinks, and Duncan? They're the best mechanics around-except for me," Bear said.
Lucas cut him a hard look. "When the DEA started sniffing around so intently, Lars and Brinks headed for Alaska."
Bear winced.
Nessa looked up at him. "I don't understand."
"Lars and Brinks may have robbed a few banks back in the day," Bear said quietly. "They need to lay low and keep off human radar for at least fifty more years."
"Oh." She blinked against the rain. "What about, ah, Duncan?"
"Haven't seen him," Lucas said, taking a turn down the asphalt toward what Nessa thought might be the main road. "He took off when you did, Bear."
Bear frowned. "That doesn't sound like Duncan."
Nessa tried to think through the dossiers she'd read about Bear and his crew. The files were sparse because Bear had tried to stay off the radar himself for so long. But if she remembered right, Duncan was a three-hundred-year-old bear shifter who liked the quiet of the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps he'd just liked hanging out with Bear.