Hunter Bear: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Enforcer Bears Book 2) (9 page)

"There's the lake!" Steven pointed to the stretch of blue before them.

They were close to the shore.

"And there, look!" There was joy in Cleo's voice. "You can't see my house from here, but do you see the pier there to the north?"

"That's maybe an hours walk," Steven said, relief flooding him.

They’d really made it out. All that was left was an hour’s walk, if they walked slowly—but after the adventure they'd just survived, they both deserved a break.

"And then we'll talk." Cleo’s green eyes gleamed dangerously as she stared at him, the wind playing with her red curls.

Steven's mouth went dry. What would he do if she told him that she never wanted to see him again? She was no shifter. Could she even understand about mates?

She'll understand if you explain it right,
his bear grumbled at him.

Steven wasn't so certain he could.

An hour later, Cleo stumbled up the path that led to her house, sweaty, out of breath and still bruised from their fall in the caves. Steven was following right behind, limping a little. She'd checked his wounds again in the sunlight. Although the bite looked bad, it had stopped bleeding. In any case, there had been no choice but to try and make it back to her home as quickly as possible.

"Can you catch rabies from a shifter?" she asked, trying out that unfamiliar word on her tongue. She still couldn't believe it was true.

She'd seen it happen. She'd seen both of them shift right before her eyes—but it still didn't feel real.

Steven chuckled. He was bruised and wounded, and yet Cleo felt the familiar stirring of heat in her belly when she turned to look at him. He was still naked. A light sheen of sweat made his skin gleam in the sunlight. They'd washed off the dust and dirt in the lake, and except for the wounds left by the fight, he looked none the worse for wear.

Worriedly, Cleo bit her lip, watching the muscles of his chest ripple as he stretched to reach past her for the phone. She listened as he rang his brother to tell him about the unconscious shifter tied up in the cave.

Something was niggling on her mind, had been for the entire walk back. She'd been too wrapped up in the mystery of seeing a man turn into a bear right before her eyes—but now, all of a sudden, the pieces started to come together.

"Your brother knows!" she said accusingly, as soon as he ended the call. "That's why he called you. Because he knew that the jaguar wasn't a real jaguar."

Steven took a deep breath. For a moment, he looked very weary, and Cleo felt a stabbing pain in her chest.

Is this the moment when other secrets will come out? Other lies?

But Steven had saved her life. As strange as it was, despite everything, she still trusted him.

She flushed a little as her eyes skimmed along his powerful thighs, up to where his shaft lay nestled.

God, how is every part of him so beautiful?

Need pulsed between her legs once more as she remembered the sensation of him sliding inside her.

"I told you I'd answer all your questions. So. Ask." Steven gave her a small smile, although his eyes were apprehensive.

"Sit down first." Again Cleo's eyes traveled down his body until they rested on his wounds. "You'll talk, and I'll get out the first aid kit."

"I'll be fine tomorrow," Steven said, although he obediently went towards her couch. "It's a shifter thing. We heal very fast."

Cleo made a distracted sound as she dragged the old first aid kit from the highest kitchen shelf. She wrinkled her nose at the dust that rose up.

When she returned to the couch, Steven had sat down, his wounded leg stretched out in front of him.

She gently prodded at the uninjured skin. "So that's where all your scars come from?"

The disinfectant looked very familiar. She hoped that it wasn't actually still the same bottle which her Grandma had used on her scuffed knees long ago.

I should probably look into getting an up-to-date first aid kit the next time I’m in town…

Steven winced when she began to clean his wounds.

“Most of them,” he replied. “The big scars are all from fights with other shifters. It’s what I’ve been doing most of my life.”

“So you’re a shifter cop?” She tilted her head, curious now. “And your brother…”

“My brother is a shifter too.” Something in Steven’s face seemed to tighten. “Both of my brothers are. As is my father. I’m not a cop though. I just… I just hunt.”

“You’re a shifter hunter. A hunter bear?” She stared at him, trying to imagine years of that sort of life.

He shrugged, then winced at the sting of the disinfectant. “Sort of. It’s not actually a real job that comes with a job description.”

Cleo found herself staring at the scars once more. “So you like… the thrill of it? Or the rough life in the wilderness?”

It certainly hadn’t been an easy life. Was he one of those guys who got addicted to danger? Perhaps she’d been wrong about him after all. Perhaps he was addicted to fighting, the way Walter had been addicted to fame...

Steven clenched his jaw. “I like the forest. My bear likes to run. And…” He fell silent.

Cleo watched attentively. Pain had cast a sudden shadow on his face. The lines around his mouth deepened, and for a moment, all warmth disappeared from his eyes.

There was something else. She could sense it.

She felt as though she was watching a drawing take form in her head: from the first few lines drawn with a soft pencil to bolder strokes, filling in details, finally dabbing bursts of bright colors. A canvas filled with a story, highlights and shadows illuminating a complete scene.

Again she felt that itch to get out her pencils and draw him. There was an overwhelming urge to sketch down those muscles that looked even more perfect than the statues her teacher had them copy on museum visits back in college.

But she was so close to seeing the full picture now. It was just like the treasure map she had found. The symbols and lines didn’t make sense yet—but they would, once she found out what connected them.

“And?” she demanded as she smoothed salve over his wound. “I think I deserve the full story now.”

Steven swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “My Dad wasn’t a great Dad. He was too much bear. He’d run, again and again. When he was around, my Mom and he got into fights. And I’m the same as him. My bear is restless. I wander around, and I leave for new forests all the time. Only now…”

“Now?” she repeated softly, a small hope blossoming deep in her heart.

“Only now I don’t want to leave anymore,” he admitted after a tense moment. “But I can’t do to you what my Dad did. I can’t do that to my mate.”

“Mate?” Cleo asked.

What Steven had said sounded a little frightening, although she wasn’t sure she believed him. For as strong as Steven was, a part of him had always seemed as skittish as a wild animal to her. She could believe that he would run, even though the mere thought ached. She couldn’t believe that he’d ever shout at her, like his Dad had.

He’s saved my life. Not only that—he’s given me comfort and hope, down there in the darkness.

“We shifters mate for life. When we find the person meant for us, we know. We just know. And I…” He lifted his head.

His eyes shone like amber, a warm, deep brown with the luminosity of an ancient jewel.

“I knew as soon as I saw you,” he finished. “You’re my mate, Cleo. You’re gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you. But it’s more than that. It’s so much more.”

“Is it?” she asked. Her voice was shaking a little. She felt cruel to keep asking for more—but the words he said came as a shock to her. She needed time to deal with what he’d said.

Mates… Is that why he felt so right from the start? But I’m not even one of them! How can this be real?

“I’m always restless, but with you… I feel at home. You make me laugh. You’re damn sexy, and damn smart. You’re passionate, and so determined.” Steven took a deep breath before he continued. “And down there in the caves, you trusted me. There was only the two of us and the darkness, but every single second down there, I was glad that you were by my side.”

Cleo swallowed. Slowly, she began to wind a clean bandage around his calf.

Everything he’d said sounded like it belonged into a book or a movie. These things didn’t happen to women like her! She was just Cleo, who’d already had her trust betrayed once, who had barely enough money left to scrape by with her little house by the lake.

And still. Every word he’d spoken had ignited warmth in her chest.

Somewhere deep inside her she’d once more felt that strange pull towards him. She might not want to believe what he’d said—but a part of her already knew it was true. The part that had put her hand into his and then followed him into the water.

She’d trusted him with her life. She still trusted him with her life, even though she knew now that he was a bear.

Helplessly, she shook her head. It all began to make a weird sort of sense. Was this why she’d seen that vision of a wild bear in his eyes?

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps mates existed.

She’d felt as if she’d seen a part of his soul. Somehow, she’d known the bear even before she’d seen Steven shift for the first time.

With the deep slashes the claws had left taken care of, she moved on to his shoulder. For this, she settled onto the couch next to him.

Steven was still distractingly naked. She could feel his muscles shift beneath the skin when she began to clean the bite marks.

“How many of you are there?” she asked, as much out of curiosity as to distract him.

“In this town? Just my brother. Outside of this town, probably more than you think.” Steven made a hissing sound at the sting of the disinfectant. “That’s why I stay away from cities. There’s always a werewolf pack or two making trouble.”

“Werewolves?” Cleo nearly dropped the salve. “You mean werewolves are
real
?”

Steven nodded. “They’re wolf shifters, like I’m a bear shifter. There are all sorts of shifters, although some are more rare than others. You don’t want to know about the day I surprised a skunk shifter…”

Cleo wrinkled her nose.

“I still can’t believe this is real, but I saw both of you shift with my own eyes…” She shook her head, then took another look at the wounds the jaguar’s teeth had left.

They looked painful, although they hadn’t bled as much as the slashes torn open by the claws. The skin was swollen and reddened around the area where the jaguar’s fangs had pierced his flesh, but Steven didn’t make a sound when she began to dab the salve onto his wounds.

He was tense beneath her hands. His muscles were hard as stone, his tendons like cords of iron beneath his skin.

He fought to protect me,
she thought.
And he lied to me… but he was prepared to come clean when his shifting could save us.

She sighed. She still didn’t know what to think.

“This is a lot to take in, you know,” she said quietly. “I think I need some time to get used to the idea of werewolves and naked men in my pond who can turn into bears.”

“Hey,” Steven said, his voice rough although he was trying to smile. “I very much hope there are no other naked men bathing in your pond.”

Cleo snorted, then reluctantly returned his smile. “By this point I guess I’ll have to be glad if there are no werewolves in my pond.”

“No werewolves around,” Steven said promptly. “Just the werejaguar, and we took care of that.”

Cleo’s smile widened. “We definitely did.”

She still couldn’t believe what she’d done. She’d knocked out a jaguar. A werejaguar!

Walter’s betrayal had left her feeling worthless. It was good to remember her strengths. She was more than just someone to use and leave behind. She was more than Walter had ever seen in her.

She might not be a bear, but she knew how to defend herself.

And I’m an artist too. Walter can't take that from me.

She looked at the scratches and scars on Steven’s skin. They formed a map of their own. They did not lead to treasure, but to something more precious: they told the story of Steven’s life. They showed what had made Steven into who he was.

She itched to take up a pen or a brush and paint a picture of that map. She could already see it take form in her mind: the shadows there at his collarbone. The square lines of his jaw. The scars that crossed his chest. The firmness of his mouth which could ignite such passion in her…

Once more she felt the familiar breathlessness rise up. She shifted, once more aware of his nakedness and the desire that had sprung up in her.

She was wet for him, aching for his touch. When she rested her hand on his chest, she could feel his heartbeat, the calming rhythm of slow, strong thuds beneath her fingers. When their eyes met at last, it nearly took her breath away.

His pupils were so wide his eyes seemed nearly black. There was a power in his gaze; she’d always felt it. Now, for the first time, she thought she understood it. There was something ancient in his eyes, something powerful.

It was the same sensation she’d felt when she walked deep into the forest. It was the feeling of being hours away from any other living soul, with nothing around her but trees with roots that reached deep into the earth. Trees that might have grown there for centuries. And he was made for these places. He was made to rule the secret places of the forest.

It should have scared her, but instead, it sent a thrill through her.

Slowly, she leaned forward. When her lips touched his, he groaned. His hands came up and slid into her hair, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss.

The heat of his tongue against her own made her moan. He filled all of her senses, overwhelmed her until nothing existed but the ecstasy of his touch.

“I want you,” he breathed against her lips. “My mate.”

He was hard as a rock against her thigh, fully erect. She felt more moisture seep into her already wet panties.