Bear Meets Girl (7 page)

            “That’s
it,” she moaned encouragingly, stroking her hands up and down his back. “Oh,
yeah, you feel so good.” Her words were the sweetest music his ears had ever
heard, so sweet they were almost unreal. No woman had ever complimented him so
highly in bed – the humans had always been too afraid of him, and the
supernaturals had always been too derisive, never looking at him as more than a
quick fuck. But Angela treated him as an equal, neither afraid nor disgusted of
him, and she shared herself completely with him at this moment.

            It
was the greatest gift he’d ever received.

            Determined
to fully immerse himself in the moment while it lasted, he pushed all thoughts
out of his head and just focused on making love to the woman beneath him. She
was so gorgeous, with all that coppery hair spilled out across the chair behind
her, leaving her beautiful, heart-shaped face unframed. He traced the lines of
that face, lingering on a beauty mark on her upper right cheek bone for a
moment, then moving downward to her cupid’s bow lips, which he couldn’t seem to
get enough of.

            “You’re
so beautiful.”

            She
smiled shyly up at him, another blush staining her cheeks. “And you’re so
sweet.” She pulled him in for another kiss, soft and slow at first, and then
she grew more demanding, nipping and sucking at his lips and tongue as she
pressed her hips more insistently against his. He answered her unspoken
request, increasing the pace until he could hear the wet slap of his flesh
against hers. She met him thrust for thrust, holding on tightly until the
tremors wracked her body again and she arched her back, crying out his name
again.

            Cole
groaned as her pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation so intense he
couldn’t hold back anymore. He came inside her, every single ounce of tension
spilling out of him as waves of pleasure rushed through his body, leaving him
breathless and weak as a newborn cub. Gasping, he collapsed against her,
completely spent and satiated for the first time in… well, he wasn’t sure how
long it had been. But he knew he felt damn good, and that was all that
mattered.

* * *

            “Umm,
Cole? Mind giving me some breathing room?”

            “Huh?”
he asked groggily, his warm breath tickling her neck.

            Groaning,
Angela tapped her fingers insistently against his chest. “Need. To. Breathe.
Now.”

            “Oh!”
He scrambled off of her, an embarrassed flush creeping across his cheeks. The
fact that those cheeks looked like they had been carved by angels made it even
more endearing than it should have. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was hurting
you.”

            Angela
took a deep breath and stretched. “No worries. You didn’t do me any lasting
harm.” Smiling, she rose, then sashayed over to him to where he was lying on
the floor, propped up on his elbows. Stepping over him so that her feet were
planted on either side of his hips, she reached down and offered him a hand.
“Here, let me help you up.”

            A
wicked glint lit his gorgeous eyes, and before she could react he’d grasped her
hand and pulled her back on top of him. Giggles erupted from her chest as he
rolled on top of her and started tickling her mercilessly, his powerful fingers
gentle but incredibly accurate as they found all of her tickle spots and took
full advantage.

            “Stop!
STOP!” she shrieked breathlessly, her abs aching as tears of laughter streamed
out of the corners of her eyes. “I swear I’m going to die if you don’t stop.”

            He
pulled back instantly. “I’m sorry.” Shame filled his eyes and he looked away.

            Angela
frowned as she sat up, cupping his face as she turned his head so he would look
at her. “You’ve really got to stop getting upset every time I go and say
something dramatic like that. I don’t actually mean that I think you’re killing
me. I know you’d never hurt me.”

            His
eyes darkened then, a sneer curling his lip. “And how exactly do you know
that?”

            Angela
sucked in a breath. “Because I’ve just spent the last hour naked and vulnerable
around you, and you haven’t taken advantage of me yet?”

            “But
I could.” His jaw tightened. “I could kill you so easily, and even erase all
traces of it so that nobody would ever find out. And yet here you are, still
lying here naked with me.” He laughed bitterly. “You’ve got to be some kind of
fool.”

            Anger
flared bright and hot in Angela’s chest, and she shoved hard at Cole’s chest,
sending him crashing into the love seat. A snarl curled her lips back as she
jumped to her feet, her eyes glowing orange, and it was a miracle she managed
to grasp enough willpower not to pounce on him and start raining punches down
on his gorgeous face.

            “Let’s
get this straight right now,” she spat, her fists clenching and unclenching at
her sides. “I might be a female, and you might be stronger than me, but I’m no
easy kill, and I won’t stand to be called a fool in my own home, especially
after I’ve gone out of my way to give you my hospitality.”  The shock on
his face as he gaped up at her was priceless, but not nearly enough to pacify
her, especially when a healthy dose of humiliation joined the anger burning a
hole through her chest. “I apologize for offending you with my kindness and my
naked body. Good night.”            

            She
stomped past him to the safety of her bedroom, and slammed the door shut behind
her, blinking back hot tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Her
heart ached fiercely at the rejection, and she barely managed to refrain from
snatching a vase off her dresser and throwing it against the wall. He would
hear that and know she was having a temper tantrum, and she wouldn’t give him
the satisfaction.

            Throwing
herself down onto her bed, she closed her eyes against the tears and tried
desperately to fall asleep. Maybe when she woke up, Cole would be gone and
she’d discover that everything that happened tonight had just been one long, horrible
nightmare.

Chapter Six

            The
aroma of coffee and pastries woke Angela long before she was ready to open her
eyes. Groaning, she turned her face into the pillow and tried to block out the
scent, but the sounds of Cole moving around in the kitchen arrested her
attention. Thoughts like,
Dammit, it wasn’t a nightmare,
and
What the
hell is he doing out there?
prodded at her consciousness until she was
firmly pulled from the sinking pool of darkness that was sleep, and back into
the light again.

            “Shit,”
she muttered, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was 10:00am,
which meant she’d only gotten four hours of sleep. Sitting up, she came face to
face with her reflection in the mirror seated atop her dresser, and debated
whether or not to splash some water over her pasty, make-up streaked face or
run a brush through her tangled hair before shuffling outside to find the
source of the aroma that woke her up.

           
What’s
the point?
a bitter voice asked.
It isn’t like you’ve got anyone out
there to impress.

           
Lifting her chin, she dragged
her eyes away from the mirror and strolled into the living room as if she
didn’t look like the latest reject from an episode of
The Walking Dead
.
Cole was standing behind the kitchen counter fixing up a paper cup of coffee,
his actions largely obscured by the ginormous white paper bag at his elbow.
Angela squinted at it, trying to divine the contents and wishing she had laser
vision.

            Cole
glanced up at her, then raised an eyebrow. “You can look inside the bag, you
know.”

            She
crossed her arms. “Didn’t want to make any sudden moves. You know, in case you
thought I was trying to attack you or something.”

            Scowling,
he pushed the bag toward her, then plucked a second cup of coffee from the
counter and placed it up on the bar countertop. “I went out and grabbed some
breakfast while you were snoring away in there. Figured we should fuel up
before we head out.”

            “How
thoughtful of you,” she said flatly, hopping up onto one of the cherry red
barstools. She gulped down the entire cup of coffee in ten seconds flat, then
pulled out an apple fritter and an egg and cheese croissant and went to town.
Holy
Jesus, thank God,
her body seemed to cry out as the food hit her stomach.
She was starved, and because of the sleep deprivation, she was going to need a
hell of a lot more fuel.

            She
worked her way through two croissants and four apple fritters, and tried to
ignore the fact that Cole’s eyes were on her the whole time. Unfortunately her
subconscious had better ideas.
Is he staring at the rat’s nest on my head?
Do I have apple filling on my cheek? Is this his way of apologizing for last
night?

The last one made her blood
heat again. A couple of pastries were
not
going to make her forgive him,
especially since he’d made her feel like a total fool for having sex with him.
And she was
not
going to compromise her integrity by bringing up the
incident from last night in order to get him to apologize. He was either going
to do it himself, or he wasn’t. She refused to beg.

“You got the directions to the
race track?” she asked as she slipped off the bar stool, wiping croissant
flakes from her cheeks and feeling marginally normal again.

“Already programmed it into
the GPS.”

“Great. I’m grabbing a shower.
Be ready to leave in fifteen.” She turned away.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” he said
sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself for having to fight
the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

* * *

           
Cole tried to focus on the GPS’s
directions as he drove the Camaro through mildly hellish San Francisco traffic,
but the guilt he’d been carrying since last night was still burning a hole
through his chest, and it was making it much more difficult to concentrate than
expected. He’d lain on the blow up mattress all night, staring up at the
ceiling and wondering why the fuck he hadn’t been able to just keep his mouth
shut instead of letting all the negativity inside of him spew out.

            Really,
what was wrong with him that he felt compelled to call the first shifter female
who’d ever slept with him a fool, for giving him the very thing he’d craved his
entire life?

           
Your
self-destructive tendencies will be your undoing someday.
Master Enoch’s
voice echoed in his ears, the one mage who had been kind enough to take him in,
and teach him some rudimentary skills to provide a foundation for him. Cole
clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening as his hands tightened on the wheel.
The past was a very,
very
bad place to go, especially when he needed to
concentrate on the mission ahead.

            “Hey!
Turn right!” Angela rapped him on the arm.

            Cole
swore as he realized he was in the wrong lane and jerked the steering wheel,
cutting off a white Escalade and earning himself a barrage of one-fingered
salutes and a cacophony of blaring horns. Ignoring it all, he turned the corner
and floored the gas, effectively putting some distance between him and the
Escalade for at least three feet before he was forced to switch lanes again or
rear-end a grandma driving a beat up Corolla.

            “Jesus
fucking Christ,” Angela hissed. “What the hell just happened back there? Do you
need me to drive?”

            “
No
,”
Cole growled through clenched teeth. “We’re fine now.”

            Except,
of course, that wasn’t true, he thought as they turned down another street and
headed onto the Bay Bridge. He knew it wasn’t, as he caught a glimpse of the
hurt in Angela’s eyes before she turned her gaze to the glistening waters of
the San Francisco Bay racing past them as they crossed over into Oakland. He’d
lashed out at her needlessly last night, and had fractured whatever tentative
tie had been forming between them, and he knew he had to fix it if he wanted
them to be able to work together smoothly.

            But
part of the problem was that he wasn’t sure that he actually
wanted
to
fix it. A hybrid developing ties with a full-blooded shifter? Such things were
unheard of for a reason. Hybrids were considered volatile and dangerous by
supernaturals as a whole, since the merging of genes from different races
resulted in unpredictable powers and abilities, as well as occasional mental
instability depending on the pairing. As far as he knew, a mage-and-shifter
hybrid wasn’t one of the more unstable ones, but because both sides felt so
strongly about preserving bloodlines, hybrids tended to be hunted and
destroyed. Her family would never welcome him with open arms, which meant there
was no future for them since for a shifter, pack or clan approval meant
everything.

            If
he did try to patch things up with her, it would only bring them closer together,
and what was the point if, in the end, they would have to part separate ways?
Why did he need to cause himself the needless pain of having to leave behind
something he wanted, needed, craved? If it wasn’t available to him in the first
place, there was nothing to miss.

           
If
you wanted to make sure you had nothing to miss, you shouldn’t have had sex
with her last night.

           
Cole swallowed a wince. He
really didn’t know what he had been thinking last night, but it couldn’t be
undone, and the truth of it was inescapable. Every time he looked at Angela he
thought about how she’d looked spread out on the beanbag chair beneath him, how
her curves had felt as if they were made specifically to be molded against his
body, how sweet she’d smelled and tasted. He knew her essence would haunt him
for many years after he left, and that he’d wake up with the sound of her voice
in his ears and the phantom of her taste on his tongue, aching for her.

           
That’s
pretty pathetic,
the mage part of him sneered.

           
Maybe, but it was also part of
his genetic make-up. Once the shifter half of him met a compatible mating
prospect, resisting the compulsion to follow through was hell. He’d already
been through that once, thank you very much, and he had no desire to repeat the
experience. The best cure for his affliction was for him to get as far away
from Angela as physically possible, which meant getting this mission done and
over with so he could be on his way.

            With
that matter settled in his mind, he parked in the lot outside the Golden Gate
Fields and made their way into the track. The Fields were huge, spanning one
hundred and forty acres, and Cole stood for a moment just inside the entrance
after they’d paid admission, taking in the sprawling greenery and the enormity
of the stadium. Though the seats were only half-filled, the buzz and excitement
of the crowd still filled the air, infecting him with enthusiasm as he watched
the jockeys and their horses lining up at their gates.

            “If
you think this is amazing, you ought to try coming here during one of the more
popular races,” Angela said quietly. He looked down at her, and his pulse
picked up a little as he caught the sparkle in her stunningly green eyes. “It’s
so much more impressive when the rows are filled with screaming horse racing
fans.”

            Cole
couldn’t help but snort a little. “Sounds like I’d just end up with a case of
bleeding ear drums.”

            Angela
smirked. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.” She brushed past him as she
stepped into the aisle, her eyes flat and all-business as she scanned the
crowds. Cole tried not to be annoyed as he followed her out there and focused
on the same thing – finding the werewolf.

            It
didn’t end up taking too long to locate him – a few discreet questions
led them to the far left of the stadium, where they found Marcus weaving his
way discreetly between the seats with a small black book, taking bets from
spectators. He bore little resemblance to the fierce brawler who’d nearly
ripped out the vampire’s throat last night, dressed in a white polo tucked into
tan slacks, his black hair slicked back, and liberally coated with gel. He
didn’t even notice when Angela sidled up behind him, too busy chattering away.

            “Okay,
so you’re doing fifty for the chestnut, is that right?” He made a note down in
his book as he accepted the money from a woman in a red and white polka dotted
dress and a wide-brimmed hat. “Good, good, now is the gentleman looking at the
roan over there? Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Definitely a good
choice – ”

            “Excuse
me.” Angela tapped him on the shoulder. “Can we have a word, Mr. Lopez?”

            He
turned around, and it was almost comical the way his million-watt smile
evaporated at the sight of Angela. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re doing here
bothering me like this, but it’s not necessary,” he began, sidling away from
her. “Dimitri and I both agreed not to press charges – ”

            “Oh,
so you’re on a first-name basis with the vampire who tried to rip your throat
out last night?” Cole asked conversationally.

            Marcus
paled, and the two humans behind him broke out into a flurry of whispers,
eyeing him nervously. “Jesus Christ, could you say that any louder?” he hissed,
ushering them both forward. “You’re gonna ruin my business!”

            “Yeah,
I feel real bad about putting a wrench in your illegal venture,” Angela
drawled, clamping a hand around his upper arm and dragging him off into the
corner, away from prying eyes.

            “Please,”
he whined, sounding a hell of a lot more like a naughty five year old than a
hulking werewolf who could probably crush Angela’s skull if he really wanted
to. “Don’t bust my balls over this. This is how I pay my rent!”

            Angela’s
face reddened, and she slammed Marcus into the wall, knocking his head against
the concrete. “Maybe you should have thought of that
before
you decided to
aid and abet someone in kidnapping a
Protector
!” she snarled.

            Marcus’s
face paled. “A what?”

            Angela
bared her teeth. “My partner. She was taken last night by a pack of rebel
shifters while you and your vampire friend were distracting everyone.” She leaned
in close. “If she is dead or permanently harmed in any way by the time I find
her, I will come back here, rip your testicles off with my bare hands, and
force-feed them to you.”

            Cole
winced, his own balls shriveling up inside him at the mere suggestion.
Note
to self – do
not
threaten her loved ones.

            Marcus
sputtered. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t know that I was involved with any
kidnapping – we were just being paid to stir up a ruckus in the bar to
try and drive away some of the Crazy Horse’s business.”

            Cole
narrowed his eyes. “And who exactly told you to do this?”